Speak English You Pair Of Idiots!!!

Welcome back friends and settle down for a few paragraphs of silver tongued madness. This week I will be talking about reality TV shows. I have a few opinions about reality TV shows that I want to share with you, but some are too explicit to write on here as my mum and grandma read this blog. Furthermore I am proud to say that the colourful language I usually use with regularity rarely makes it onto my blog, although this weeks’ subject is the most difficult one for me to express myself on without the use of non-dictionary vocabulary. I apologise now if you are easily offended, this one may be a bit harsh on the eyes.

Let us start with the first reality TV show that took the nation by storm: Big Brother. Twelve borderline retarded Neanderthal-like “people” looking for their 15 minutes of fame before disappearing into a world of scraping the bottom of the Z list barrel for parts in pantomimes or Christmas light openings in small villages. I have been guilty of watching this show but never of actually voting or giving a toss about the outcome. I only watch for the occasions where the editors miss the censoring and a naughty word pops out pre-watershed. That to me is hilarious but, to a parent who has to explain the meaning of the word to their minor, probably inappropriate. I think I’m not alone when I say that the whole show would be a lot more exciting if you threw a couple of crocodiles or lions into the mix. I don’t want people to get killed, just maimed or emotionally scarred for my entertainment. I think you could combine the ancient Spanish running of the bulls and Big Brother contestants from years past. Get a nice steep high street in a small market town, close all of the shops, place all of the past contestants in the middle and have bulls run at them from all directions, job done.

Let’s move on now because these shows only deserve a paragraph of my attention, nothing more. My next piece of television fertilizer is I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here! Or as I like to call it; I’m A Publicity Mercenary…Get Me My Cheque and Exclusive Hello Magazine Interview! What an absolute steaming pile of horse manure this show is. I have to say that before I completely lay into this testicle of a programme, they do raise a lot of money for charity so fair play but that is outweighed by a truly shocking assault on the senses. My eyes burn, my ears get pins and needles, my skin crawls, my nose hairs singe and it leaves a taste in my mouth that resembles excrement (something you wouldn’t be surprised to see one of the “celebrities” eating on a bush tucker trial). The calibre of “celebrity” on the programme is laughable too. “I’m here because I used to wax Mick Jagger’s balls” or “I’m here because I brushed past David Beckham and accused him of rape.” I think that I only managed 38 seconds before I switched channels never to return, mainly because of the presenters; Ant and Dec. Am I the only one who has to put subtitles on whenever they talk? How do these people end up on primetime TV? Speak English you pair of idiots!!!

I am going to make a statement now and it is from the pit of my sole, many of you won’t like it and, in a way, neither do I. Here goes – I like the X-factor (hands on head with shame and disgust). I will tell you what I like then I will tell you the long list of dislikes I have for it as well. The main reasons I like it is because of the entertainment and the business side. I get it in a way that a lot of people don’t. The reason Jedward, Wagner and other freaks stay in for so long is because they generate hate from the nation. To me that is a great way to do business Mr Cowell. Of course you are going to keep them in for as long as possible because they polarise opinion and cause publicity. If the competition had 16 acts that were just good singers and had no personality (Leona Lewis, Shane Ward), it wouldn’t sell half the amount of newspapers and magazines that it does. I will never knock the show for that because it is just good business. As for the entertainment part, the edge that this show has over the previous two I talked about is the fact that the contestants actually do something for your votes. They don’t just argue drunkenly for the camera or eat kangaroo testicles for attention. Sadly, that is where my love affair with X-factor ends and comes crashing to Earth with a thud. The exploitation of adversity they use makes me vomit so much that there isn’t enough volume of food in the world for me to bring up the amount of projectile hatred I have for the shameless emotional back stories of the contestants. Cue sad music, cue slow motion blinking and now bring in the picture of the dead family member…blah blah blah. Just sing for me fatty and I will judge you on that. Oh but look how cute her kids are and they need a mother to provide for them, please Mr Cowell put her through. This is her last chance to make something of herself, she is 85 and she has her whole life ahead of her, don’t ruin her dream Mr Walsh………….Sorry I’m back, I just had the sudden urge to rip my chest hair out and eat it. The public are as much to blame for this as well. It’s in your hands dumbasses so stop complaining when the dwarf hermaphrodite deaf guy gets through to next week instead of the gorgeous fake tanned blonde that is destined for Broadway. As much as people say it is, the show isn’t fixed. OFFCOM regulate it independently, so I doubt a few back handers from Sony Music would be taken instead of keeping their integrity. Wait a minute…

The last show I will be talking about is what I would describe as “everything that is wrong with everything.” No not Justin Bieber, although he is a close second. I am talking about the genital wart production called “The Only Way Is Essex.” I had the misfortune to watch this programme for 10 whole minutes before I decided to leave the room and throw myself off my garage roof. Only a few bruises and scratches, thanks for the concern. I will never get those 10 minutes back that I wasted watching this truly revolting programme. I could have written my whole blog on just this show, it is vulgar and monumentally stupid. Is this what our great grandparents who won two world wars for us intended us to do with our freedom? This Friday is D-day. A time to reflect and a time to remember the people that lost their lives defending our way of life and our country. How do you explain The Only Way Is Essex to those brave men and women? It makes me ashamed to be British. The amount of whale blubber alone used to form some of those faces on the show is enough to extinct the entire planet’s supply. Do people seriously need to put that much make-up and fake tan on? I heard that the “actors” work from a script. Excuse me whilst I laugh so hard that my kidneys drop out. A script? Really? Really? Brilliant. I take it all back; the talent on display is amazing. It’s like a really well acted version of Hollyoaks. My sister watches The Only Way Is Essex so it is on or Sky planner as series linked. A little bit of sick comes up whenever I skip past it to watch Two and a Half Men. She said she watches it because it’s so bad that it’s good. Probably a fair point, but not enough to get me to watch it. Certainly not enough for me to tolerate it when she is watching it.

In summary reality TV is rubbish, but still as popular as ever so I guess I will have to grit my teeth and get on with it. Thanks for reading.