It is with sheer bamboozlement that I write my latest column.
Being in a fair and sharing relationship, I find it my duty to share the television. My main uses for the box are football and… erm, football.
Of course, to accrue my football tokens, I must endure evenings of endless soap operas and sub-standard singing contests. But this week’s viewing has seen things taken to a new, unthinkable level.
Offending T.V. show number one: Britain’s Next Top Model.
Here, a group of overexcited wannabe glamour models parade around and partake in mini challenges to impress the watching Elle MacPherson and her cohort of camp judges. As the squealing and squarking girls try their hand at whatever it is glamour models actually do, the judges dissect their performances and one is eliminated from the contest.
This week’s ‘highlight’ was a video message to the girls from Beyonce, which was received with ridiculously over-exuberant celebrations. Annoyingly, I felt my eyes peeping over the top of my book to see what all the commotion was about. Really, was this reaction necessary for a video recorded message?
It was at this point that I realised the whole programme is a shambles. I can guarantee now that the plain-faced, plain-talking winner of this contest will most certainly not be Britain’s next top model.
And just when I thought things could get no worse, this televisual abortion was trumped by offending T.V. show number two: Dating in the Dark.
Really now, do people actually watch this stuff? My guess is not, so I’ll tell you about it.
On this one, six desperate singles enter into a world of mystery as they showcase their romantic ineptitude to the watching millions. Okay, to the watching dozens.
As the name suggests, the chancers date each other in a pitch black room, and having made total idiots of themselves, then choose one of their dates to share a ‘light reveal’ with. The shallow wasters then reel in horror as they see their date under the spotlight.
One contestant mutters the immortal line “I cannot believe I let that kiss me”.
Having seen the monstrosities they have canoodled with previously, most contestants decide to walk away still single, though some do meet up afterwards, and even go on to have further dates after the show has finished and seem set for long-lasting, fulfilling relationships.
Well done, you seem like a match made in the arse end of hell, you horrific, fame seeking, shallow, brain dead creatures.
Seriously, what is television coming to if this is what is being commissioned?
The only thing more embarrassing than the show was that I only read three paragraphs of the book I was clutching for those two hours.