The signs were always there!
I NEVER did like Jimmy Savile.
This stems from the fact the shell-suited c**t never replied to my letter to Jim’ll Fix It earnestly trying to find out how Space Lego was made.
Or “send me to Legoland in Denmark on a first class return flight to get a shitload of cosmicstyled free stuff” as my letter perhaps may have been interpreted.
That he’s turned out to be a nonce of the highest order probably shouldn’t be the earth-shattering news it’s turned out to be, though.
It’s not as though the signs weren’t there, is it?
For f**k’s sake, this is the man who said that Gary Glitter’s frantic hand-shandies while watching kiddie porn “didn’t harm anyone”.
The same bloke who denied ever having visited a notorious kids’ school in Jersey despite the somewhat opposing evidence of him photographed on the school’s lawn with a load of young pupils.
And the very same fella who declared that Jonathan King – convicted buggerer of several underage boys – was “a sabra.
“A sabra is an Israeli fruit that’s prickly on the outside and all soft
Jimmy Savile F***ing c**t!
and lovely inside.”
Once upon a time it was pretty much every young boy and girl’s dream to have an audience with Jimmy in his mad chair with its hidden depths.
But if he was still alive, who’d honestly want to rummage around in those pockets now?
Jim’ll Dicks It. That’s the c**t’s obituary.