Jeg fortsetter å more meg noe uutsigelig over Jeremy Clarksons skriverier. Ikke alle mine venner i England er like begeistret, men avstanden over til Norge gjør at jeg ikke trenger å ta hans Stuttum-holdninger helt alvorlig. Jeg tillater meg følgende lange sitat fra The Sunday Times 22. februar 2004. (Artikkelen er også på trykk i samlingen Don't Stop Me Now fra 2007) som er en samling av hans "bilanmeldelser" i nevnte publikasjon:
"Sometimes ... people are bullied for no reason. A friend of mine was at the Edinburgh Festival once, which, so far as I can work out, involved sitting in a pub drinking lots of beer. This meant, inevitably, that pretty soon he rushed off to the lavatory to be sick.
Unfortunately, and I guess we've all been there, stomachular reversal is not an event that can be tamed and timed. So it all started to arrive before he made it to the stalls. At the last moment he shoved the cubicle door open and vomited extravagantly ... all over some poor chap who was there doing, and minding, his own business.
Without a word my friend slammed the door shut, and then he thought: 'Oh no, I have just been sick all over someone who is Scottish. He is bound to come out of there and pull my arms off'. So, confused by drink, he thought he'd better get the first punch in. With that he opened the door again and, before running away, planted a huge fist in the man's startled face.
Now put yourself in the shoes of the man in the loo. What if he wasn't someone who eats piledrivers for relaxation? What if he was simply a poet, up in Edinburgh with his bookish girlfriend for the festival? How do you think he's going to feel, being punched by a man who's just vomited into the Y of his trousers and pants? To get some idea of the bewilderment and the sense of persecution, try driving around Britain in one of the new 6-series BMWs.'
Jeg har prøvd BMWs i-drive ("i" for "idiotisk" tror jeg), men vil nok foretrekke en tur i 6-serien likevel.
"Sometimes ... people are bullied for no reason. A friend of mine was at the Edinburgh Festival once, which, so far as I can work out, involved sitting in a pub drinking lots of beer. This meant, inevitably, that pretty soon he rushed off to the lavatory to be sick.
Unfortunately, and I guess we've all been there, stomachular reversal is not an event that can be tamed and timed. So it all started to arrive before he made it to the stalls. At the last moment he shoved the cubicle door open and vomited extravagantly ... all over some poor chap who was there doing, and minding, his own business.
Without a word my friend slammed the door shut, and then he thought: 'Oh no, I have just been sick all over someone who is Scottish. He is bound to come out of there and pull my arms off'. So, confused by drink, he thought he'd better get the first punch in. With that he opened the door again and, before running away, planted a huge fist in the man's startled face.
Now put yourself in the shoes of the man in the loo. What if he wasn't someone who eats piledrivers for relaxation? What if he was simply a poet, up in Edinburgh with his bookish girlfriend for the festival? How do you think he's going to feel, being punched by a man who's just vomited into the Y of his trousers and pants? To get some idea of the bewilderment and the sense of persecution, try driving around Britain in one of the new 6-series BMWs.'
Jeg har prøvd BMWs i-drive ("i" for "idiotisk" tror jeg), men vil nok foretrekke en tur i 6-serien likevel.
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