Watching Top Gear, The Grand Tour, or any of their derivative crap is the same monotonous experience: a fat, unsightly man says, “I like this car you will never own, but I like this other car you will never own more.” This person has been paid tens of millions of pounds, probably has hundreds of millions in net worth, and his charisma is comparable to listening to some obese, pink-faced sixty-year-old man burping in a regular’s pub. The icing on the shit cake is that this person’s wealth was once derived from TV licence payments.

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