But without him we wouldn’t have had Blackadder, therefore life would have been much worse.
Yes, Curtis and Elton, line them against a wall and shoot them in the head.
But let them write Blackadder first.
girlskill, you’re thinking of when Demetri Martin says something like having a stutter is like starting words with a drumroll. Also, the reason there are no B Batteries is because to order them sounds like you’re stuttering: b-batteries. Not exactly the same joke, but close enough.
Aw, Ben Elton gets a bad rep because his standup is shit, but he’s a pretty damn amazing author. Except for his newest book, that was shit too.
But yeah, Curtis gets respect from me for writing Blackadder (though it got a lot better when Elton came on board), he’d just get a lot more of it if he hadn’t spent thirteen years infecting this country with the Vicar of fucking Dibley.
I don’t care what anyone thinks. I love her. Yes, she’s fat, no doubt (and you know how I despise fatties), but she gets a pass… just like the one you give to Curtis, Pedantic, so be quiet, you old bugger.
I don’t dislike her because she’s fat, I dislike her because she’s as funny as a kitten with no legs and AIDS (which is, admittedly funny, but only occasionally)
And you know you love me really oh Wordy my Perv.
#1 Enough with the fucking Bieber jokes. They’re becoming as old and annoying as Twilight jokes. We get it: It’s gay.
(no I’m not some fan-girl to either, quite the opposite, but old meme jokes are old)
#5 Nick hit the nail on the head, much like The Jews did with Jesus.
#2 HAHAHAHAHA omg, that was so- *ROFLS* -_-
#3 Luke gets a internet high five
#4 I too would like my own personal DJ friend. If ever an awkward situation arises, I can say, “lay out some phat beats!” *snaps and points to stuttering friend*
I’m with the old pedant on this. Blackadder is ace.
Edmund: I trust you had a pleasant evening, sir…?
George: Well, no, actually. The most extraordinary thing happened. Last night, I was having a bit of a snack at the Naughty Hellfire Club, and some fellow said that I had the wit and sophistication of a donkey.
Edmund: Oh, an absurd suggestion, sir.
George: You’re right, it is absurd.
Edmund: …unless, of course, it was a particularly *stupid* donkey.
George: You see? If only *I’d* thought of saying that…
Edmund: Well, it is so often the way, sir, too late one thinks of what one *should* have said. Sir Thomas More, for instance — burned alive for refusing to recant his Catholicism — must have been kicking himself, as the flames licked higher, that it never occurred to him to say, “I recant my Catholicism.”