Saturday, August 27, 2016

BBC News exclusive: Richard Branson is such a pussy

BBC - Richard Branson "thought he would die" in bike crash. Oh no! What happened? Was he racing down a deserted Nevada highway on his Ecosse Spirit when he had to swerve to avoid a dawdling marmoset and found himself painting a red streak on the pavement?


Sir Richard Branson says he thought he was "going to die" after crashing his bike on Caribbean island Virgin Gorda.

The businessman said he was "extremely fortunate" only to have suffered a cracked cheek and torn ligaments.

Sir Richard said he was cycling down a hill when he hit a speed bump, and "the next thing I knew, I was being hurled over the handlebars and my life was literally flashing before my eyes."



Oh for fuck's sake.

Hey, BBC: I fell off my bike something like 7 years ago. I tore all the skin off my forearms, and also cracked my right kneecap and destroyed the prepatellar bursa. I was on crutches for a month, and still have no feeling in the skin over my right knee. Where was the BBC then?

When I was a kid I flew over my handlebars, landed on my chin, and punched my teeth through my lip. There's still a big white scar there. Where was the BBC then?

Some rich twat falls off his fucking bicycle on his private island, and that's news?

He says he thought he "was going to die" from falling off a bicycle on his private island, and you don't mock him with the wrath of an angry silverback gorilla?

See, this is why my blog is still needed.

"I really thought I was going to die. I went flying head-first towards the concrete road, but fortunately my shoulder and cheek took the brunt of the impact, and I was wearing a helmet that saved my life.

Must have been a very slow fall if you "really thought" anything. You don't get to "really think" in the time it takes you to go airborne and hit the ground, except maybe "really thinking" how to orient your body to take the fall safely.

"We've since recovered the crumpled bicycle, completely destroyed. My cheek has been badly damaged and my knee, chin, shoulder and body severely cut."

"Severely cut"? Oh no! The precious royal blood has been spilled! Fucking pussy.

Sir Richard said his assistant, Helen Clarke, was first on the scene as he was "lying prostrate on the road" and then another member of his team, George, "sprinted from the bottom of the hill" to assist.

His PA follows him as he rides his bicycle? And is George his PA's PA, or just his cupbearer? Or his "attendant of the royal stool"?

God, when I flew off my bike, I gave a thumbs-up to the guy across the street who watched me fall, then got back on my bike and rode the last mile and a half home on my own. But I guess that's the sad fate of the proletariat, eh?

"My attitude has always been, if you fall flat on your face, at least you're moving forward," he said.

"All you have to do is get back up and try again.

Which is quite a bit easier to do when you fall flat on your face on your own private fucking island with your fucking PA and your fucking cupbearer right behind you. As opposed to us unwashed fucking masses, who get to fall flat on our faces alone, and then can't get medical care because cunts like you have bought out our governments to strip-mine our country for dirt, piling all the cash into tax havens in Jersey and the Caymans, where you then bitch about negative returns on government bonds.

Fuck you, Richard Branson. Fuck you and the Queen that knighted you for the accomplishment of successfully riding the coat-tails of Mike Oldfield.

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