Wednesday, September 13, 2006
I may as well only write about blonde moments...
I flopped into the living room, having had enough of debates about whether tapestries are fixtures, and put my head on Mike's lap.Mike was watching a bizarre fat camp programme. Perhaps now I should point out that Mike used to be - ahem - well rounded, and having dieted to his sexy self (and acquired a not at all shallow girlfriend who loves him for who he is), has developed a fascination for such programmes.
I think, anyway. It can't be that he just likes reality TV. No way.
"Reality shit," I said, stretching, as a mother was told her child was in danger of diabetes. "It's so mean."
"Er, no more so than the X Factor," Mike said, hitting a sore point. Not that I watch that shit.
"Making fat kids go on treadmills so that people can watch their reactions is mean." I paused. "That one there isn't actually that fat."
"Which one?"
"That black one."
"That black one," Mike said, "Is Ian Wright."
by billygean.co.uk at 8:39 PM |
7 Comments:
oh god, i think i'm quite glad i left the room before you said this! lol :P
Oh I watched that programme!
I'm not a fan of reality tv but watching all that jiggling is kinda hypnotic...
(btw - my Dad said at the time "I though Ian Wright was that white American bloke?")
Fatties camping it up - it's like watching puppies romping on ice. Better, even.
If you found them all parked end-to-end next to the trolleys at Tescos, I shouldn't be at all surprised...
Hehe! I don't know who you are, but hehe!
Sorry, BG, it's only me. Clicked the wrong button and lost my ID. Scareee!
Andrew Anon
Was this the programme where Ian Wright made the boy cry and had to go explain to the family what he'd done to the child?!
Oh and don't diss reality TV too much when we are going to watch the reality TV ballet!
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