Wednesday 8 June 2005

Terrible TV, brave woman.

I took the dog out the other night for her final walkies before going to bed. When we got back, the TV was still on and I looked at the screen whilst reaching for the remote to switch off. I thought it was a Dennis Nordon or Chris Tarrant thing where they take the mickey out of adverts or bits that have gone wrong in filming. Not so – I was watching this Celebrity Love Isle. I’m not going to put a link in as I feel it would be like putting LSD in a toddlers bottle. I could not believe what I was seeing, it was so puerile. I’ve done some checking around to see if I am the only sane person in UK and, thankfully, it seems that this show will never be Big Brother (as if one of them is not enough) The following seems to be a fair example of what I found. Again – no link as the site is a bit strong in places.

My life is collapsing. I used to enjoy a good book and maybe some intelligent conversation but now I find myself chatting to the missus about how likely it is that Lee Sharpe will bone Abi Titmuss on the telly tonight. Things really are bad, as I was the sort of aspiring, amost-middle-class snob that thought reality TV really was symptomatic of the cultural barbarians at the gates (etc).Is it the natural, wittily unscripted exchanges between (the admittedly lovely-to-look-at) Kelly Brook and that annoying Ulsterman? Is it my unhealthy interest in Abi's double-chin and my desire to smurf it repeatedly? Is it my fascination with Rebecca Loos' face, which looks like a drunken nutter has gone garratty on it with a shovel?It must certainly have something to do with the antics of some complete "X" list mong called Paul (whom I had never heard of) who behaves like an acid-fuelled chav with ten pints of the numbers on board let loose on Guildford high Street of a Saturday night.Celebrity Love Island is like a really strange but strangely comforting screensaver that floats by on the telly for half an hour every night. I think it's the acme of early 21st Century cultural achievement; our very own entertainment Weimar. And Abi's slight beergut makes me ridiculously excited.So, is anybody else enjoying this little guilty pleasure as much as I am? And, more importantly, which two of the slightly-rough-around-the-edges chicks in there would you like to see together with a litre of vaseline and a marrow?

I also came across a blog from a young woman who has discovered that she has extensive cancers. Cancer walked through my family some while ago. One of my problems was that I had no real experience of the condition and felt helpless in supporting and counselling my daughter. This would have helped immensely. A very brave woman despite the way she sometimes describes herself.

Did the man in the balloon get wet feet? Not whilst I was watching him.

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