British guys are the best movie villains. They are, with all due respect, a bunch of right fucking bastards. From Hannibal Lecter to Ebenezer Scrooge to the entire Imperial Officer Corps in Star Wars, British guys are pretty much the best baddies you can get anywhere. Seriously, they’re assholes.

I love the British people though. And it’s not just because they’re the only country where they speak a language kind of like mine. I love them because listening to British people talk is really, well, relaxing. Whenever I hear that English accent I just start envisioning a warm little cottage in the country. An old man lights a pipe. We gather around the fireplace and listen to gramps tell us a story…

Via Slate.com:

“Once the questions finally began—more than two hours after the hearing started and after a protestor had been removed from the room—everyone’s role clarified. The Republicans on the subcommittee, who number eight, think BP has been very bad. The Democrats, who number 13, think BP has been very, very bad. Hayward, who sat alone at the witness table, agrees that something very bad has happened. He’s just not sure about BP’s part in it. He’d like to withhold judgment for the moment, thank you.”

It’s rather surprising to me that the conservative movement, now claiming to represent the revolutionary ideals of our founding fathers, haven’t gotten angrier about a spotty little Englishman and his British oil empire shitting all over our lawn. Then again, these aren’t the droids you’re looking for. That’s right. Come on old chap, let’s have a nice warm cup of tea and a quiet chat. It will all get sorted in the end. There’s a good man.

Then again, of course, Bob’s your uncle. Whatever the hell that means. I don’t know. I hear English people say it all the time. I think it has something to do with masturbating.


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