James Blunt Should Die
March 13, 2008
I am sitting here in my office, southern FM is playing through the radio (how unfortunate), and all I can hear, is the teeth grinding, kidney squeezing, testicular killing, mind numbing, anything-but heart wrenching voice of James the prat Blunt.
In all seriousness, if I wanted to hear the voice of an 8 year old whinging and moaning about how difficult her life was, then I would go to a primary school, and find an 8 year old girl to sing to me. The fact remains that I don’t have any interest in inflicting this shrill noise upon my unsuspecting eardrums, and they would far rather listen to something decent, so James the munt Blunt does not register on that list.
This shrill boy from Wiltshire (oh yes, rather, indeed) was in fact christened ‘James Hillier Blount’ but deemed himself important enough to need to change it for more of a ‘rockstar’ alternative. He should have taken an events management london job to be honest rather than have cursed us all with is putrid excuse for ‘music’. Yet another reason for him to be shot, but who’s counting.
Today, I think we have concluded that James Hillier Fairy Blunt is the worst thing in the history of mankind.
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