December 19 2013
Bah! Humbug! I was supposed to be going down the Pig & Penguin for a few jars with Frosty tonight but he had to phone and cancel ‘cos Winona’s feeling a bit under the weather. She didn’t complain seven months ago when she was trapped under that giant snow flurry! Haha. No, seriously, she was a bit gyppy and Frosty did the right thing staying in to look after her. He was just knocking her up a bowl of Jewish Penicillin (chicken soup) then they were going to have an early night. I told him he’s got to wrap her up warm and lay off the cuddles – it’s rest she needs, not recreation. So I’ve had a nice quiet night in with Missus C. watching telly.
Now you’ll probably say I’m getting old, but I really, really did feel like phoning up and complaining. I mean, I’ve seen some real bottom-of-the-barrel stuff on TV in my time, but I’ve never seen anything quite like it. There was that pair of Geordie gorms, Ant & Dec, gurning and grinning and giggling like a couple of two year olds while somebody off of Eastenders was being forced to eat a kangaroo’s bum-hole. Now I may not know much about TV programming but for the life of me I can’t imagine what kind of sick beggar would think of that when asked to come up with a slice of midweek family entertainment, can you? I mean, what ever happened to ‘All Creatures Great and Small?’ Blimey, I remember watching that years ago and people complained in their thousands about Christopher Timothy putting his hand up a cows how’s-yer-father, let alone trying to eat one!
Nope, I reckon it’s only a matter of time before we see Ant and Dec jeering at some poor desperate C-lister being forced to eat dog’s mess under threat of a good kicking from the film crew. It’s like a legitimised version of Guantanamo Bay, and all justified by the pathetic excuse that these people are so desperate to revive their careers, pay their mortgages and feed their kids that they’ll do absolutely anything to get their grinning fizzogs back on the box. Personally, I’m looking forward to the day when Ant & Dec’s bubbles burst and they finish up on there as contestants themselves. Shelve the cockroaches and witchity grubs – I’d have something very special lined up for those two, and it would make a kangaroo’s anus look like filet mignon.
And don’t even get me started on X- Factor: What the hell is that even meant to be? I mean, Ant and Dec are bad enough, but at least the celebrities (and I use that term extremely loosely) get a few quid and a mealworm out of it! Those poor, poor, deluded beggars on X-Factor want help, not ridicule. I mean, that Simon Cowell – he’s got the scruples of a king cobra and about one tenth of the charm. His idea of a perfect act would be John Merrick and Quasimodo working as a duet howling ‘There once was an ugly duckling’ to a four-to-the-floor hard core dance beat derived by them beating themselves over the head repeatedly with stainless steel tea trays. Evil! Evil! Evil! Actually, that would be quite funny. But it SHOULDN’T be, and it shouldn’t be on telly. Simon Cowell – now there’s a face I could never get tired of punching.