Saturday, 26 September 2015

Television doesn't get more pointless than this....

At the end of their tether and on the brink of financial meltdown, with their pantry about to burst......revealing a lardy version of Kelly LeBrock in a shell suit, eating a flaky Greggs pasty, they call upon their stringent saviour, Greg "stating the obvious doesn't get easier than this" Wallace. In the process, they shamelessly allow themselves to be revealed to the nation as a family that can't think for themselves, it's basically the hidden premise of the whole programme.

We're supposed to be the dominant species, yet all the other animals we share this dying marble with happily chow down on what nature has to offer whilst the majority of us dominant creatures scoff on vast amounts of obesity inducing churned up healthy creature slop which has been mushed together to form cholesterol filled junk that seems to be stopping the flow of blood to the brain.

If you can save £37 a year on eating slightly cheaper jam, how much jam are you bloody eating? I don't think I've spent £37 on jam in my entire life, and I've been jam-active since the age of 0.....although I don't think I bought my first jar until I left home and did my first food shop at 18, scary uncertain jam times they were indeed. Why are they eating so much jam? I like jam, I buy jam, decent jam.....but I don't base my entire existence on the stuff. Can you survive only on jam? Why doesn't someone do a "Supersize me" where someone eats only jam for a month until they resemble an ectoplasm'd Statue of Liberty circa Ghostbusters 2, the most awful sequel ever made. Or, "Man v's Jam", where the weeble-wobbling jam obsessed presenter travels the country, eating jam, talking about jam, using jam as lube. It's going to happen eventually.....it's a self-fulfilling prophecy of an infinite amount of galaxies, televisions, people and jam. We'll do the same with ham too, because it rhymes.....and people are suckers for poetry......let's milk the shit of this.

Anyway......

'Eat Well for Less' might aswell be called 'Stop buying so much food you greedy westernised rudderless conformist bastards'. I think I'd rather appear on Jeremy Kyle's daily ritual of mercilessly condescending to hapless chavtastic morons, without whom he'd probably be rubbing shoulders with at the Jobcentre. At least these chavs have the excuse of needing their appearance fee, or are they paid in Lambert & Butlers and Sports Direct vouchers? 

I mean, heaven forbid that these incapable plebs might actually use what's left of their ravaged shrunken gutter squatting minds to form some kind of logic to help them through life before calling in the 'Messiah of the food shop'. This is a primetime television programme, where families are told how to save money on their food shop......is this progress or has evolution finally come to a juddering halt?

I don't know about you, but I still expect to be entertained when I turn on my TV.....which is quite naive of me really, as it's a sensation I've not felt in at least 25 years, yet I keep going back in for more. What I do get, however, is several years closer to having a stroke every time I look in it's direction....I actually think it's worse for your health than having a deep-fried pork scratching sandwich....on toast.....with a doughnut filled crust. How many more times will I moan that there's "nothing on", before yet again, scouring back through 4000 channels gormlessly staring at the TV guide like an impoverished NSPCC poster child peering into an empty fridge, praying for a veritable feast to magically appear from the fathomless chilly void.

If you're a TV addict these days, it basically means you're addicted to watching utter dross. Why have we done it to ourselves? In the same way porn has desensitised us to promiscuous anal gapage, or how 24 hour news, "AKA 24/7 snuff movie carnage", has desensitised us to horrific moments caught on camera that once would have made our eyes bleed leading to insomnia and weekly visits to a psychiatrist, the average primetime guff has rendered us seemingly incapable of distinguishing an idiot from our very selves. 

Which all brings us full circle really. I shouldn't judge these people, the reason they're baring their desperate souls on for our entertainment is because they made the mistake of turning one on in the first place, the poor bastards never stood a chance. How about a programme called "Think more for more", where people are cajoled and encouraged to use that fabled 10% of brain activity that allegedly still knocks about in their numbskulls. 

I'm constantly told that I think too much, but when I think, I make better decisions, like buying the correct amount of relatively nutritious affordable food that I and my children need to survive. I know, I'm so rock and roll it hurts. It's a notion that some of you may have trouble comprehending, but trust me, you do have a brain, no matter what they say.

I've been tempted to sell my TV and just replace it with a massive pile of books, I know it would be life changing, but I can't do it. I have kids who are both already addicted to the bloody thing and I don't think they'd share my vision of life improvement. I suspect they'd actually disown me if they walked into a room with a book case where the monolith of entertainment used to stand.

So there we have it, I know it's ruined my life, but I still allow my children.....the absolute loves of my life, to stand in the way of the very same soul-destroying juggernaut of soporific glare that is the television. Guilt doesn't get any more painful than this.....as Greg never warned us, the cheekily grinning last standing fruit and veg selling alpha-male twunt.

Welcome to the next generation of Telly addicts.....Noel Edmunds will be turning in his grave, once he has one. Noel's coffin is the only box I want to see opened on that bloody show. I don't even have the energy to start on him today.....stay tuned my pedigree chums!

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