See? Told you I'd be back.
Things change. Some of the ne'er-do-wells and bastards from last year's (and 2009's, for that matter) Dystopian Advent Calendar have faded from memory, which leaves space for a whole new batch of tossers on the run-up to Xmas. Ho ho ho.
Without further ado, let's heave open the creaking hatch and see which reprobate's twitching behind the beige curtains of the first window...
Day 1
Jack Whitehall
What a good start to the proceedings. Unkempt joke thief toff Whitehall has been stinking up panel shows ad nauseum for a few years now. The man's a fucking disgrace. How did his cocaine binging as reported in the papers only a few short years ago get swept under the carpet, or snorted from it, so quickly? And how did he get on the fucking telly in the first place, despite being bereft of talent (swiping a Stewart Lee routine and hoping nobody would notice)? Perhaps being Nigel Havers's godson has something to do with it. Is that right? No. No, it isn't. This is one man who will make me turn my TV over, rather than enduring him and getting angry. I just find his presence tiresome.
More tomorrow!
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