My dearest darling Jeremy Clarkson,

I love you too,

I love you on a “cellular” level,

On a brain-cellular level that is,

Not much to love, is there?

 

Unlike you, I don’t lie in bed at night “grinding my teeth”,

Because I have a healthy, vigorous sex life,

Well, I’ve got a life!

 

And I wouldn’t dream of having you “paraded naked” through the streets,

No, no, no; not through the streets of “every town in Britain”,

Oh the horror, the horror!

I’d be arrested for mass cruelty,

No, I have more respect for my fellow citizens.

 

And I certainly wouldn’t have “lumps of excrement” thrown at you,

That’d be a damned waste of good allotment manure,

Which could go on my rhubarb.

 

However, there’s quite a lot of people who’d love to see you eat your words,

Your “five-a- day” would be a diet of bullshit,

Eat and inwardly digest; waste not, want not, I say!

 

You’ll probably suffer from an attack of verbal diarrhoea as a result,

But it shouldn’t be too bad; you’ll have built up an immunity over the years,

 

And if you have to go to the loo in the middle of the night, you’ll save on electricity.

You won’t need to put the light on,

Because The Sun will be shining out of your backside,

Where it belongs!

 

Oh, and no self-respecting male, whether or not they’re your age “thinks the same way”;

Definitely not one who has a mother wife or daughter.