His insane lurch from chunky indolence to running a charity marathon a day for I think the entire length of England was perhaps the only sort of batshit fuck-yeah example that could have helped propel me from my own similarly fat, louche stasis. One doesn't have to be a slender whippet to enjoy terrifyingly kinetic half-bestial health and I owe that realisation in part to this dubious and exceptional transvestite.
* More hotties *
As a fellow spark of dainty luminous femininity trapped in the body of a big butch bitch, let me correct the oversight that was my omission of la Izzard from this catalogue of androgenic excellence. Sarcastic men in frocks are one of my favourite things ever.
Eddie would be my spirit animal if I believed in the necessity of remedial transubstantiation. Which I do not.
Everything is everything.
That brings me tremendous joy.
I prefer his earlier, bitchier work to the sort of stadium-pleasing recitals he does now, but whatever- I'd still still exploit him physically if I ever caught him in a vulnerable moment.