k-punk

What’s the funniest thing on the Mr Agreeable page?
For sheer cruel accuracy, the description of Bobby Gillespie’s dancing is hard to beat:
‘Gillespie when dancing, looks like a baby giraffe maliciously dressed up in Keith-Richard-style leathers, trying to keep its balance on a freshly polished floor strewn with marbles.’
ROTFL!
But for belly laughs (in every sense) the pay-off line in his Raging Bull is priceless:
‘Still, how often, when De Niro’s Academy Award-winning performance is cited, do they bring up in awestruck tones how he bulked up 40 pounds for the final scenes? An Oscar for getting fat! They should give me one.’
However, the page which reduced me to uncontrolled hysterics when I read it at work the other day, was Mrs Agreeable’s reply to a correspondent enquiring about the health of Princess Margaret:
‘You souffle-brained, lachrymose f***ing shower of shit! It’s bad enough that you gave a toss about that big-nosed, self-obsessed, shag-happy dinner-vomiting, holiday-taking f***ing hoorah but that other useless f***ing carcinogenic sack of gin? F*** right off! The sooner the f***ing monarchy are dragged out along the f***ing Mall by their f***ing heels and f***ing beheaded in Trafalgar c***ing Square, their dogs skewered, their horses eaten and Buckingham Palace converted into a f***ing brewery, the f***ing better! Prune-faced pack of c***s!’
Y’see, you can’t read it without shuddering with laughter. Pure invective, unmitigated by any sophistication, subtelty or decorum.
Soooo therapeutic. More Mrs Agreeable, please, DS.