WAKING up with a hangover so virulent it has developed its own head which protrudes from my neck shouting abuse, I reflect on my correspondence with The Times newspaper this week.
In an article entitled ‘The dangers of AI are real indeed’ a columnist wrote:
‘This week on my social media feed I witnessed frighteningly convincing footage of the Archbishop of Canterbury appearing to run semi-naked through the streets of Westminster clutching two near-empty bottles of rum, headbutting a police constable who attempted to accost him, simulating the sex act with a passing Alsatian and then shinning up a lamppost, pulling down his underwear and defecating with gay abandon.
‘This was clearly AI at its most insidious, convincing in its verisimilitude but calculated to damage the reputation of one our most eminent churchmen.’
I read the piece with interest and penned a letter to the newspaper.
‘Sir – while I share your columnist’s concerns regarding the perils of Artificial Intelligence, my commitment to the truthfulness he holds at heart compels me to point out that this was actual footage, taken, no doubt by some enterprising tourist. I had had a tipple with my friend the Bishop of York and I fear my imbibing got a little out of hand, prompting the high jinks shown in the video. Yours etc…’
Smiling fondly at the look of surprise on the Alsatian owner’s face, I take a light breakfast and peruse a periodical. Therein I read that JK Rowling has called for a boycott of Marks & Spencer following a report in the Daily Telegraph that an employee, possibly trans, approached a mother and daughter and asked if they could be of assistance. M&S have apologised for any ‘distress’ caused to the customer.
Oh, for cunt’s fucking sake, Rowling, are there any fucking depths of insane hatefulness you won’t sink to? Do you ever flinch when you look in the mirror and see fucking Graham Linehan staring back at you? M&S issued a fucking apology? For what, a member of staff doing their job? For existing? If I was gonna boycott M&S, it’d be for spinelessness in the face of Britain’s richest fucking bigot! As for the Telegraph, it’s about time we put the newspaper, its staff and its readership in a giant bathchair and trundled it round the grounds of a fucking care home all day, only letting them get out to shit in a fucking pan!
Ex-Superman actor Dean Cain has announced that he is to join the ICE team to ‘help save America.’ He said it was time for ‘patriots’ to ‘step up’.
Hahahaha, Superman? Supercunt, more like! So, you’re gonna be rounding up aliens, eh? You know who was a fucking alien? Fucking Superman! Arrived, undocumented from outer space, taking up jobs in the newspaper industry real Americans could have taken! You were never fit to wear the blue tights, you twat!
‘Self belief and sex eggs: 10 things we learned about Gwyneth Paltrow from an explosive new biography’ reads a headline in The Guardian USA.
Here’s the fucking thing. I haven’t learned a fucking thing about Gwyneth Paltrow because I haven’t read this book, have no fucking intention of reading this book, and won’t be reading this fucking article about the fucking book! ‘We’! Stop including us in everything! I’m not part of your fucking ‘we’! I’d rather drink a pint of cow’s saliva garnished with nettle leaves than learn a single thing about that streak of grifting wellness piss!
Finally, it seems that this week Donald Trump was spotted, for reasons unclear, walking about on the roof of the White House. He spent nearly 20 minutes surveying the rooftop and the grounds below. Asked by journalists on the ground what he was doing up there, he said he was taking a walk, adding ‘It’s good for your health.’
Oh, my cunted Aunt, another chunk of the fucker’s brain has fallen into the sea like an iceberg during global warming, hasn’t it? Yeah, walking is great for your health, Donnie, so have plenty more walks on the roof. In fact why not keep on walking right over the fucking edge? With luck you’re fat enough to build up a good head of momentum as you fall the 21 metres, landing with a fucking gigantic splat on the lawns below, your exploded carcass sending blubber and orange skin across a 100 square metre area! That’d be the most fucking played video in fucking YouTube history, not to mention the most fucking rejoiced over!
