This Idiot's a real genius.
Other than the fact it's hilarious, Ricky Gervais' deadpan mate's global grump around the SevenWonders of theWorld has helped vindicate me to my parents for all the petulant teenage sulks I'm clearly having in most of our family holiday snaps.
Never again will I have to sit around the dinner table at Christmas irritably snapping the sprouts from my fork as my mother regales the redhead once more with the story of how the 12-year-old me moped his way around New York and couldn't wait to get home to his box bedroom in Aberdare, close the curtains and listen to Marillion.
If she does I'll just play her last week's episode when Karl is standing nonplussed, sleepdeprived and craving pickled onion Monster Munch at the Great Pyramids in Giza while a mini-tornado of litter howls around his head.
"You don't expect to see that, do you? A s****y baby's nappy flying through the air," he sighed. "They don't show you that in the brochures."