HELLO, GOOD EVENING AND GOODBYE.
Luvvie pissheads in teevee land are today mourning the passing of Sir David Frost, famous for being a smug show-off, a celebrity arse-licker, a drunk and the producer of one of teevee's most awful shows, What Sort Of a Cunt Lives In A Shithole Like This? starring the hideous Lloyd Grosspig.
An irreverent, satirical Establishment-basher, Frost, one of the BBC's numberless legion of Oxbridge arseholes, nevertheless, like they do, wet himself at the offer of a knighthood for services to himself and was famed, rather like the equally odious Jeffrey Archer, for the lavishness of his parties and the stellar arseyness of his guests.
As it has with with Monty Python's Flying Circus, the home of paedophilia, the BBC, has mythologised out of all proportion the show which broke Frost - That Was The Week That Was - a mildly satirical latenight review show written by the late Ned Sherrin; Sir Pisshead, himself, saw to it that his equally over-rated and entirely pointless interviews with former President Nixon were championed way beyond their actual worth.
Of the two recently deceased veteran luvvies, at least Alan Whicker showed us far away places with strange-sounding names, Frost showed us only his preening ego and his smirking, ugly kisser. With any luck we'll not look on his like again. Although I wouldn't bet on it.