FOR once it’s not France that finds itself at the sharp end of the Pub Landlord's tongue, it’s Britain - and a broken one at that.
The British common sense, hailed so highly by Oxford graduate Murray’s alter ego, has gone awry.
From his rant about the credit crunch – during which an unfortunate RBS employee in the front row finds herself regularly bombarded by an incandescent Murray demanding to know ‘where's the money’ – to the inevitable shambles of the 2012 Olympics, the Landlord paints a picture of a pretty hopeless nation, with no sense of past, present or future.
At points gut wrenchingly funny – particularly his take on the Wright brothers’ first flight and the four stages of alcoholic reasoning – there were also times of depressing realisation that, while a chauvinistic persona for the intelligent and articulate Murray, there are some people out there who would whole-heartedly agree with the occasionally crude and vulgar tirades.
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