A Little Eye Bleach Here (Rant)

Okay, here’s the thing, I don’t think I can ever watch Top Gear again. And I mean the real one, not the Victoria Bitters-fueled Aussie version, or the Day of the Dead that calls itself the U.S. edition, but the steak and kidney pie, god save the queen, if it’s not British it’s crap ye olde Top Gear we all knew and loved.

That is, until last night’s episode.

What was it that drove me to potentially stop downloading episodes from Finalgear watching the episodes on BBC America, and then patronizing all the program’s advertisers so they’ll keep paying to put the show on the air? Well, it wasn’t the 959/F40 bit, that gave me a bit of a chub, and it wasn’t the lard-ass star in a reasonably priced car, as I pretty much fast-forwarded through that after finding out it wasn’t once again Amber Heard.

No, what potentially may be ending my Top Gear viewing days occurred in Jezza’s bit about racing God Almighty to get from the western-most bit of Britain to the eastern-most before the sun, and it wasn’t the blurring of his wristwatch so you couldn’t see that the takes of him commenting behind the wheel were not linear. It was what happened at the end of that segment that is really making me not want to sleep having seen it, for fear that the vision will haunt my dreams. If you dare to see what cannot be unseen, and potentially ruin any future Top Gear watching enjoyment, then click on the NSFL jump. You have been forewarned.

Clarkson coin slot, that is what did it.

That chubby that was caused by the 959/F40? Gone. Any future chubbies? Unlikely. It happened while he was getting out of the car to flaunt the Jaaaag’s superiority over the king of kings, and in a cruel bit of kismet, God chose to show his wrath, not to Clarkson, but to the viewing audience.

Now I realize that this bit was supposedly shot on the Summer solstice- the shortest day of the year. And that day, even in Britain, might be somewhat warm, but that does not excuse Jezza from wearing a shirt that is not long enough to be tucked in, or at least cover his southern canyon land. Hell, it was such a gaping shot, I half expected to see James Franco down there trying to saw his arm off.

Now maybe a middle-aged man’s back break isn’t as shocking to you as it is to me, and to be honest, if it had been anyone else’s coin slot up there, say Amber Heard’s, I wouldn’t have gotten so freaked. But that fact that it was Jezza playing the plumber really skieved me out, the way it does when you’re a kid and you realize that your dad has sex. . . with your mom. Unclean! Unclean!

I’ll give the show another chance next week season, but if there’s a return engagement of south-side Johnny, I’m outta’ there.