I’ve mentioned the writings of Charlie Brooker before. His jaundiced view of the world strikes a chord with me when I’m in full misanthropic cynic mode. Which is most of the time, these days.
His current article takes a relatively unimportant topic – the new flavours being introduced by a crisp manufacturer. However, some of the writing reaches sublime levels. For example:
The flavour itself is truly vile: if they’d called it Squirrel’s Blood, everyone would’ve believed them. They taste precisely like a tiny cat piping hot farts through a pot-pourri pouch into your mouth.
Now, that’s class.
Geoff Coupe's Blog 
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