It’s pure class and features, among other things, ongoing references to a fictional ex-public school media wannabee Nathan Barley who spends his time wearing aviator sunnies, riding a scooter and living off his parents money. The show, simply called “Cunt” is more or less a forum for the TV guide to rip ten types or merciless shit through Nathan Barley and everything he stands for. Exhibits A through C:
Oh Char-lie… call me.
“Decked out in a gigantic parka and a pair of asymettical trainers with tiny sole-mounted speakers that play MP3 breakbeats each time he taps his tiny, cuntish foot, Nathan Barley attends the launch party for a new digital entertainment TV channel and spends the entire evening wandering around with an oily smirk, failing to strike up conversation and pretending to have a good time.”
“Perched atop a stem like aluminium stool in a bar called Diagram, painstakingly modelled on a scientific illustration from a 1970s school textbook by the cuntiest interior designer in the world Nathan Barley picks at a six pound 99 pence roast beef sandwich and awaits the arrival of a girl called Sacha to discuss an online CV he has absolutely no intention of putting together for her if she doesn’t get tipsy and imply she might fuck him.”
“Nathan Barley strides down Oxford Street in an All Your Base Are Belong to Us t-shirt, sucking in his cheeks and nonchalantly puffing his chest out, a bit like a
peacock might if it turned into a human and had its brain replaced by a big ball