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Good to see some more Krusty bashing on here. There's been plenty of previous threads about Krusty, from which the most apt summary I have seen so far was:

"Fat, stupid c**t!"

I have to apologise, I can't remember who to credit for this pearl, but nonetheless, spot on that poster!

It was me! And I own a real pearl necklace. Not a spunky one.

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It was me! And I own a real pearl necklace. Not a spunky one.

Thanks for sharing. :blink:

It occurred to me, since Adrian has blown his chance of ever interviewing la Allsop, that she would be the perfect interview subject for Louis Theroux. Someone commission a new series of "Weird Country Weekends" or "When Louis Met...".

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My son has always maintained that I remind him of her! How could he! After everything I've done for that boy!

Probably after everything you've to that boy. It's always the fault of the parents - especially if they are of an age when someone could call them "Baby Boomers".

db

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What to make of Kirstie Allsopp? The valkyrie of vacant possession, a strident, snorting hockey captain who, along with that fey bald bloke, made homes into game shows. I swing from feelings of embarrassed fondness to pillow-biting fury. Sometimes, I think she’s a bit of a lumpy treasure; at others, that she should be hanging from her own curtain tassels. Almost all the girls I’ve known all my life have been more or less like Kirstie. In a blaze of intimate self-publicity, she leapt from the sinking property market, abandoning the leftover bald bloke, and bought a derelict house in Devon, which she is doing up on a frayed, genteel shoestring, to show the rest of us how to have a cosy, tasteful recession.

The wondering about Kirstie is over. She has become a bosomy Wodehousian monster. Who on earth commissioned this format, of a middle-class, strident, plummy wife of a property millionaire, speculating on a £300,000 second home, who goes on to tell the mortgage-strapped, indebted, fearful workers that what they really ought to be doing is finding local artisans, throwing their own pots, blowing their own glasses, knitting their own toilet paper and going through the skips of their betters to make lovely, lovely, cosy, cosy, get-together light supper areas?

Kirstie’s Homemade Home is such a monstrously patronising piece of class-bound, lady-bountiful do-goodery that it would beggar Paul Whitehouse and Harry Enfield to come up with a more cynical satire. Kirstie has crossed the threshold to become one of television’s undead. She now believes that what she has to say is important, that it’s real, instead of being simply light entertainment. We can only hope she finds some darling, ever so clever little local ropemonger. What’s truly disappointing, but I suppose unsurprising, is that she has such class-bound, predictable taste. It looks like the Princess Diana memorial holiday home — what’s technically known as late-1990s naff.

Dont be too dismissive of this cow, she does in fact twiddle tootsies together under the table with Mr Cameron and friends at the hoyty toyts dinner parties in only the choicest neighbourhoods that the rest of us can only dream about while dreaming up housing policy for the rest of us through their own particular rose tinted glasses. She is in fact the next governments 'seeing eye dog' re housing.

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Dont be too dismissive of this cow, she does in fact twiddle tootsies together under the table with Mr Cameron and friends at the hoyty toyts dinner parties in only the choicest neighbourhoods that the rest of us can only dream about while dreaming up housing policy for the rest of us through their own particular rose tinted glasses. She is in fact the next governments 'seeing eye dog' re housing.

It's classic Gill,who is an underrated writer of amusing cynicism.He once did a piece on a friend of mine who is,shall we say,a tad self important.He went apoplectic when he read it,the rest of us rolled in the aisles.

Edited by profitofdoom
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Superbly-written rant!

It's true though. She's an evil version of little britain.

Oh no, please god no

Vicki Pollard as Krusty's apprentice :(

I saw K.A's pot throwing trip..............notice the way her mouth hangs open when she isn't spouting .....

I've changed my mind, stay pure Vicki

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Dont be too dismissive of this cow, she does in fact twiddle tootsies together under the table with Mr Cameron and friends at the hoyty toyts dinner parties in only the choicest neighbourhoods that the rest of us can only dream about while dreaming up housing policy for the rest of us through their own particular rose tinted glasses. She is in fact the next governments 'seeing eye dog' re housing.

Sadly yes you are right. I can see here waddling around the House of Commons before too long. She is that "type."

But not if I can get her roasting on my spit first! :lol:

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Guest AuntJess
Great stuff.

I heard KA on Radio4 saying "house prices will never go down because men will always want to put a roof over their wives heads". Fetch the guillotine!

Hang on! I'll bring my knitting. :ph34r:

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Guest AuntJess
Dont be too dismissive of this cow, she does in fact twiddle tootsies together under the table with Mr Cameron and friends at the hoyty toyts dinner parties in only the choicest neighbourhoods that the rest of us can only dream about while dreaming up housing policy for the rest of us through their own particular rose tinted glasses. She is in fact the next governments 'seeing eye dog' re housing.

Surely Davey boy will realise she is the proverbial albatross around his neck? :unsure:

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