<![CDATA[<a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/6lylLAxzS4E" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" class="bbc_link bbc_flash_disabled new_win">http://www.youtube.com/v/6lylLAxzS4E</a>]]>Where can I possible begin?
This is the most horrifically humiliating thing I have ever laid my eyes upon. So it starts with some bint proudly proclaiming the she's just sold her car. Fair enough, I'd be pleased if I was trying to sell a car and had managed to sell it. Tell you what I wouldn't fucking do. Say the words "quick, quick" for no apparent fucking reason. But there is a reason. As you can see by the fact that this is webuyanycar.com's official Youtube account and it says "Quick Quick" in the title, some absolute fucking noose-magnet came up with the words "quick quick" as a catchy fucking slogan. Some complete and utter disgrace to his parents, who wears skinny trousers with his pinstriped fucking suit and is always drinking fucking skinny-lattes and reading the fucking Financial Times cos he thinks he's a fucking big-shot when what he actually is is a c*nt, plain and simple. He'll be out tonight after work taking cocaine and crying into a strippers lap about how his father never told him he was proud of him. The c*nt. This fucking untermensch was sitting in a fucking boardroom one day, but not a regular boardroom, one of those boardrooms that they have in marketing buildings that's got fucking expanding sphere toys and colourful walls because the only way to keep your creative juices flowing is to sit in a fucking clown-shoe of a boardroom and high five each other with your pale blue sleeves rolled up over your hairless forearms that are, frankly, too tanned for this time of year and in London, you tanning salon visiting penis regarder, every time you think up some idea that isn't frighteningly shit. And on this occasion he thought up "quick, quick" and the other three identical bawbags were sat around, mouths agape, some white powder visible just under their noses. And that was it, this fucking genocide of an advert was born.
So then you've got the next guy, an annoying fucking twerp if ever I saw one. Standing in front of his big shiny car at what looks like some posh English estate and he fucking says it too. Just shut the fuck up. It's bad enough you're taking people talking and trying to make a song out of it. But stop making them say that shit fucking slogan.
And who wrote the lyrics to this shit anyway? "Very. Snappy. Totally. Speedy" I bet was the same fucking bellends in that boardroom, with their pointed shoes that click, click even when they walk on carpet cos they really fucking need everyone to know they're in the room, as if anyone could miss you, you c*nt. I could smell you before you even left your house this morning. That big tub in your bathroom is meant for hot water, not Cool Water by Davidoff. You don't need to fucking bathe in the stuff. How many times have you had your door kicked in by police thinking there was a chemical attack happening in your fucking abode? Enough of your pastel coloured shirts as well, you dull bastard.
And why are some of them acting like they are half dancing/half gangsta? You're speaking shit words in your shit voice. You ain't Dre, you ain't Tupac. You're a quim.
And why are those kids so fucking happy? What's it to do with them that their parents sold a car? Why is that boy high-fiving his dad and half dancing? I really hope he gets bullied at school. Yeah I know they're all actors, that actually makes it fucking worse. They could have just kept on plugging away at that am-dram company they go to on a Tuesday night, really perfect that blossoming flower routine the fucking hippy c*nt in charge gets them to do every week so they can feel the truth in any situation. Instead they sold their souls. And for what? I'd like to know if a single one of their agents (HA!) has gotten a phone call since this ad was first aired that was anything other than my own heavy breathing voice telling them I'll get them when they least expect it. Absolute fucking c*nts and I hope that kid's parents have had to spend all the money they made off their child's back on therapy for the kid. Serves them right the pushy c*nts. Never managed to live their own dreams so forcing them on their children. Makes me fucking sick.
But lastly, the retarded Matt Dawson look-a-like near the end. Don't you get up every morning and ask yourself how your life got to a place where you're whoring yourself out for some company and letting an entire country here you say "hee hee" on TV with that gormless fucking look on your shit little balding face? Cos you should. It should be all you fucking think about. You should sit on your sofa every single day, watching Jeremy Kyle and unable to even force a smile at the misfortunes of the glorious blockheaded cretins on that show, because how is your life any fucking better? You should ask yourself, what's the point of putting food into such a mangled fucking head anyway? How can you not absolutely hate yourself for what you've done? How are you not hooked on drink and drugs, lying in a fucking gutter somewhere, warbling a Shakespearean sonnet to passers-by in the vain hope one of them is a talent spotter? I could write a fucking essay on everything I hate about you, you complete tool. That gap between your front teeth, the ridiculous attempt to cling to your viciously receding hairline, your pointy fucking eyebrows that are barely even there. Even they hate you, look how they point up, drawing attention to your massive fucking forehead. Fuck you.
