< < Previous Attempts To Make Jimmy Carr Look
As we’ve already established, Jimmy Carr simply won’t look at anything. There isn’t a person, thing or experience that could interest him, since his happiness was lanced by an aristocrat’s umbrella. Now! I’m a good-natured chap, and like the princess who couldn’t laugh, I’ve made it my fatherly mission to offer Jimmy’s hand in marriage to the first thing that warrants even a sly glance.
CONTESTANT ONE : A COW IN DIRE NEED OF MEDICAL ASSISTANCE
– Aren’t you going to help the cow, Jimmy?
– Sigh.
– But the cow, Jimmy. It’s got syringes in its eyes. It won’t even see you looking.
– Let the cow suffer. In its suffering, I will find what small pleasure I allow myself.
– Come on, Jimmy! Don’t be like that. Give it a look, cheeky chops.
– Leave me now. I have to summon enough energy to embrace a void tomorrow.
– You win, Mr. Carr. You might also like to know that the cow’s dead.
– Aren’t we all?
CONTESTANT TWO : A WONKY CHILD WHAT DONE A PICTURE
– Jimmy, look at the picture that child drew for you! It’s a dazzling kaliedoscopic lookathon!
– Ffffffffsssst.
– Come on, he’s clearly not a very good child, so it probably took him a very long time. You could at least look at it, Dr Rib-Tickles.
– So, the child is one long drawing closer to death. I see no reason to celebrate that with a reckless look-see.
– Oh, go on, you frisky wee ‘nana. Slap yer peelers on’t.
– The only thing this child has to offer the world is its own death, and with it, the release from the endless duties that its life creates. To flatter its giftless output with a jamboree of wanton glimpsing is nothing short of repulsive hypocrisy.
– Hark at you, flobbergobs! Oh, look, Mr Carr. He loves you. If he had the motor skills, he’d be doing the lambada. Go on, lob it a lazy look! Gwan. Do it for a Chewit.
– I do not recognise that child as human. I will not soil myself by processing its unclean reality.
– Congratulations, Mr Carr! Next!
CONTESTANT THREE : THE STEAM DIMENSION
– I’ve called on the denizens of the steam dimension, Mr Carr.
– I’m impressed.
– Really?
– No. I’m utterly unmoved.
– That’s the spirit! Shall I describe what’s going on behind you, or do you want to have a little peep? Incy peep? Jimmy have a teency peep peep?
– To offer a preference would be to register an interest. Instead, I will brush a little dust off my knee.
– But would you look at me if I… jumped in front of you, waving my arms?
– I’m sorry. I’m focussing on the emptiness of the universe, many millions of miles behind you. I cannot see you at all.
– Gumph!
I swear, Jimmy Carr, if it’s the last thing I do… I’ll get you to look at something!
Straw poll; whom would you rather shag, Jimmy Carr or Maxine Carr?
I know, no contest really.
There’s a picture of him looking at the camera, if that helps.
BOT, I don’t suppose anyone’s heard rumours of where she’s living now?
Look at me Jimmy, look! LOOK!
Does looking at a camera count? I mean, everyone knows that Jimmy Carr’s too talented, amusing and media-shy to look at living things. But would he dismiss a camera, or a banjo? How about air? Some carbon. Canoes, ash, unattached hair, his own clothes, vinegar, hen. Certainly yes to hen.
It’s a conundrum. And I will get to the bottom of it.
I think you should’ve stuck to being the lead singer in Lloyd Cole and The Commotions, Jimmy…
Also, everyone should visit the link in davidh’s name, as it is the best thing I’ve ever seen.
If you’re ever in Wolverhampton, let me know. I owe you at least a couple of pints for that recommendation!