Man who has trouble predicting entirely predictable things somehow still alive

It has emerged today that a man who is unable to foresee the most obvious shit imaginable has somehow managed not to die, despite his prolific and unrelenting stupidity.

Rod Purley, an irredeemable twat who makes a living running the BBC into the fucking ground, has somehow managed to remain not deceased for a period spanning several decades, even though he presumably uses an electric fire to warm up his bath water.

Purley hit the headlines yesterday after booking known atrocious cunt Brandon O’Kneel to appear on one of the shows for which he has editorial control, before expressing surprise when O’Kneel said all the horrible fucking things he’s been saying for the past twenty years.

Social media erupted with condemnation of the booking, with many commentators convinced that it was grimly inevitable that a person who has predicated his entire career on being a contentious arsehole would, in fact, continue to behave like an absolute fucking prick.

Owners of functioning brains everywhere were steadfast in their insistence that exactly the thing that happened could have been predicted to happen by anyone other than the thickest of shit-thick wankers. Frank Exchange, a person possessed of normal cognitive abilities, said,

“It’s not even a tricky one. It’s like predicting the sunrise, or Boris Johnson being caught knackers-deep in a woman who isn’t his current partner. You’d have to be a fucking moron or a lying piece of shit to suggest with a straight face that you couldn’t have known that this notoriously shitty individual would belch up something objectively fucking awful on live television given even the briefest of opportunities.”

Purley, though, remained unrepentant.

“How was I supposed to know that this bucket of undiluted piss whose entire worthless existence has been characterised by crapping out dangerous and divisive opinions for the gratification of cunts would continue this long, unbroken pattern of behaviour? It’s not like it’s my actual fucking job to be aware of these things. Now, if you’ll excuse me, someone has dropped a grand piano from the top of that building, and I need to go and catch it in this plastic bucket.”