And I quote:
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For the benefit of the uninitiated, Kyle Sandilands is the worst human being Australia has yet produced in its 40,000 years of human habitation. I’m aware that there’s a strong case to be made for Rupert Murdoch but, for all his sins, he’s at least indirectly responsible for broadcasting Futurama; Sandilands is so beyond redemption that he can’t even do something good by accident. In defiance of the law of averages, he has – despite the ability of his smug, leering countenance to infiltrate seemingly every corner of the mediascape – not once made me feel anything other than unbridled contempt. Long ago, in a brief moment of universal happiness and understanding, I even found it in myself to feel sorry for Rob Schneider, yet a base, human connection to Sandilands still eludes me. His wife admits having lesbian fantasies, and you can’t really blame her. Even Zoo Weekly, Australia’s foremost celebration of hate-fueled idiocy, a magazine that isn’t above celebrating serial killers and eroticising corpses, think he’s a useless prick.
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