Pedantic twat's hobby is hating films everyone loves

A MAN has admitted his main pastime is despising films that are univerally adored. 

Julian Cook, aged 35, spends his private time watching the films sneeringly and his social time slapping people in the face with his heretical views about their favourite movies.

He said: “Whether it’s classics like Citizen Kane or Apocalypse Now, family favourites like ET or Star Wars, or critically-acclaimed hits like Moonlight or There Will Be Blood, I hate them all.

“I began as a child, when my little brother loved Jurassic Park and to annoy him I called it ‘barely-competent hackwork’. He cried for days, even though neither of us knew what it meant.

“It gave me such a buzz. The same buzz I’m chasing today when I tell cineastes that Scorsese’s a limited director of identikit Mafia crap, or when I break the news to sci-fi freaks that Blade Runner’s nothing but a Duran Duran video with a voiceover.

Other classics that Cook has dismissed for sport include Gone With the Wind, ‘dated and racist’, The Lion King, ‘sentimental patriarchal crap’ and Rocky, ’Three Oscars? For losing a fight?’

He added: “I’ve only once considered giving up this hobby that’s brought me such joy, when my Auntie Jean punched me to the ground at Christmas when I said Mamma Mia! ‘lacked all nuance’.

“I wouldn’t have minded, but that was a totally legitimate opinion.”

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How to change a duvet cover drunk

CHANGING a duvet cover is complicated, but can alcohol make it easier? Try with our step-by-step guide: 

Step one: Assess the situation with a drink

The worst thing anyone can do is rush into changing a duvet cover. Have a couple of drinks while you stand there, considering carefully. This isn’t putting it off, it’s ‘strategising’, just like evil genius and Poundland Mekon Dominic Cummings.

Step two: Remove the old duvet cover

Haul your duvet out of the filthy cover infused with sweat, takeaway sauce and stains you don’t want to think about. Realise this is going to be a ball*che of a task and fortify yourself with another drink.

Step three: Remember the inside-out thing

Everyone dimly remembers the ‘turn the cover inside-out and grasp the corners of the duvet…’ technique. Try it, get your foot caught in the cover, stagger backwards, and think again with another drink while watching something on telly you have no interest in, like American Dad.

Step four: Finally get stuck in

It’s a sodding duvet. It can’t beat you. Desperately try to stuff it in while growling like a 17-year-old attempting sex after six pints. After creating a large lump of duvet inside a mostly empty cover, collapse weeping like that same 17-year-old.

Step five: Return to the fray

After nipping to the off licence to the corner shop for more booze, repeat step four. Realise you’re having as much success as putting an eight-foot octopus into a jam jar. Have more drinks while cursing the Frenchman who invented duvets, even though they are generally excellent.

Step six: Give up

Build a crude hamster-like ‘nest’ from your lumpy duvet, pillows, spare sheets, coats and old newspapers if necessary. Pass out in a drunken stupor, proud to have changed the duvet cover without making a big deal of it.