The World According to Clarkson (World According to Clarkson, #1)

by Jeremy Clarkson

I have no idea what ‘achtung’ means, except that it usually precedes a bout of gunfire followed by many years of digging tunnels. I therefore pulled over and stopped, unlike the crew, who didn’t.

Something is going on in Austria. They’ve told the world that the Freedom Party leader has stepped down, but how do we know he’s gone and won’t be back? Let’s not forget these people are past masters at subterfuge. I mean, they managed to convince the entire planet that Adolf Hitler was a German.

I have always prided myself on being able to survive abroad for up to a month on nothing but hand luggage. I have even developed a routine whereby one pair of underpants can be made to last for four days. You wear them back to front on day two, inside out on day three and then inside out and back to front on day four.

So what’s to be done? Well, I’ve often argued that the best way to kick-start a dying species is to start eating it. No, really. If someone could convince the Observer housewives of Hoxton and Hackney in east London that the best way to put a sheen back in their hair was a daily bowl of giant panda chunks, someone, somewhere, would figure out a way to get the lazy sods breeding again.