Telly Hell

What is going on in Britain? We’re all cracking up and going mad – MAD I tell you.

I know why we are going mad – and I have a cure. The people of Britain will not like it one iota but in my view, you sometimes have to be cruel to be kind.

My plan is to purge our television of all programmes that turn people into dribbling imbeciles whose common sense seems to take a holiday for the duration of the garbage they are watching.

What has caused this outburst, I hear you cry?

I was reading about what people like to complain about on the TV and I came across an article that said a number of people had complained about the use of the phrase “soggy bottom” on a programme that seems to have turned the UK into a bunch of maniacs. The programme is called “The Great British Bake Off” and is basically a cookery programme where amateur bakers compete against each other to win some form of pathetic prize – what the prize is, I don’t know – I would never watch such rubbish.

The programme should be removed from prime time telly because, quite frankly, it turns people into brainless goons who find excitement in truly awful entertainment; some people become obsessed with such trash telly and feel the need to write about how the phrase "soggy bottom" upsets them enough to write a bloody letter to the BBC.

What is wrong with these people?

What turns normal every day pleasant and intelligent people into these sad obsessed complainers?

I'll tell you the answer: programmes made in telly hell.

Here are some programmes or types of programmes that I would relegate to the early hours on an obscure television channel or, better still, wipe off the face of the earth, in order to save humanity.

Cookery Programmes

Cookery programmes should be relegated to a specialist channel and not be shown all day every day (or so it seems). Such programmes are becoming more prevalent every single second of every single day, making celebrities out of bizarre people like Jamie Oliver, Anthony Worrall Thompson and Delia Smith. Such shows have turned these so-called celebrities into megalomaniacs – like this:



Yes – Delia claims she wasn’t drunk but wanted to use her “status” to get the crowd behind her favourite football team simply because of who she was.

She just made a fool of herself and of those who thought such a rant was a good idea.

Soap Operas

Soap operas do not reflect real life – if they did then society would break down into total anarchy, particularly if real life reflected soaps like Eastenders.

I have a confession; I used to watch Eastenders, Coronation Street and Brookside religiously (as they are on all the time or so it seems). Thankfully, I had a Eureka moment on 5th July 1991 and said to myself “Hang on! What the flump am I doing watching a programme where every character is a flawed arse who wants to con, shag or kill everyone else?”

Soaps are responsible for inflicting Jason Donavon and Kylie Minogue on us. Thanks Australia for Neighbours and Home and Away. And what about Dallas and Dynasty? America is just as culpable.

And of course, I am absolutely certain that we are totally blameworthy for inflicting Eastenders on our American and Australian friends, making them all believe that every cockney is a depressed gangster who screams at every other one and then kill themselves.

Talent Shows

The X Factor is still on for what seems like the gazillionth year. It is a show that dominates Saturday and Sunday night television, exposes us repeatedly to Simon effing Cowell and his equally talentless judges, and presents to us a bunch of lame karaoke singers who are “on a journey”, “have a deep trauma in their lives” and who all sing shit songs in the style of a bad boy band singer or in a bad impersonation a croaking warbling oversinger. Equally deplorable are The Voice, the BBC equivalent, and Britain’s Got Talent, a show that unequivocally proves that Britain has NO talent whatsover.

Such shows are gold dust for tabloids because they fill their pages with bilge about the contestants - which is apt really because I would probably ban tabloids too.

Reality TV Shows

I do not want to watch Z list celebrities trying to dance on a Saturday night in Strictly Come Dancing. Nor am I remotely interested in any other Z list celebrities who want to be dumped into a jungle in Australia. The only time I would be interested would be if they exiled Piers Morgan on a desert island – but only enough to see his smug face crumble when he realised that there would be no cameras to film him, he wouldn't actually get paid and he had to stay there for six months.

I am equally uninterested in the bunch of oversexed Geordies trying to get their end away in Geordie Shore and a bunch of posh pratts in Made in Chelsea.

I can got to the city centre late on a Saturday night to watch that kind of garbage.

Freak Shows

If I woke up and discovered that I had piled on 500 lbs or developed and embarrassing and totally horrendous bodily ailment that made me look like The Elephant Man, I would immediately call the hospital and beg them to fix me behind closed doors. I would not ring Channel 4 and say “Can I be a contestant on Embarrassing Bodies” and subject the entire horror of my condition to the whole of the UK, including showing the full gory details of all operation I need to rectify the situation.

Mrs PM is a sucker for these kind of programmes and usually watches them when it is my turn to cook (having recorded them the previous week). When I walk into the lounge, I then find myself confronted with my tellybox showing me an explicit operation, complete with blood and gore, of a man just at the point where the surgeon is going to puncture his swollen scrotum. I look at my plate and see a lovely meal but the sight of a bloated ballsack about to be sliced somehow turns me off my dinner and makes me want to throw up.

That is not entertainment.

And Finally...

There are lots more programmes I want to consign to TV Hell. I will tell you more in a future post.

Over to you, dear reader.

What TV programmes make your blood boil?

Which TV programmes would you consign to TV Hell?

Am I being weird in my choice or am I the crazy one?

Actually – perhaps you shouldn’t answer that last question.

Another British Post

Napoleon once famously said of England:

England is a nation of shopkeepers

Presumably the French dwarf was annoyed because we kicked his bottom at the battle of Waterloo in 1815.

Well, I think its time to tell you all a little more about Britain and I will start by categorically denying Napoleon’s claim – I am not definitely not a shopkeeper. To counter this, I’ve decided to relate a few more facts about my home country.

Monarchy

Britain has a monarchy; we are ruled by Queen Delia of Norwich, a woman who writes books about food. When she barks we all jump – this is known as the “Delia effect”. She once wrote a book called “How To Cook” and in that tome, she suggested that we all go and buy eggs. I still recall the fateful day when Mrs PM read the book – I returned home from work to find the fridge full of eggs.

“What’s for tea?” I said.

“Eggs,” she replied. “Delia says so.”

Now I have to say that I cannot say anything bad about Queen Delia. She loves her people. Here she is giving encouragement to her subjects:



Now, apparently she wasn't drunk; royalty don't get drunk do they?

Government

The government of Britain is an example of a unique form of politics: idiocracy.

Our most recent Prime Ministers have been:

Margaret Thatcher – also know as “Atilla the Hen”. She was also called “The Iron Lady”, because she liked to iron clothes. She frequently did this in the House of Commons while insulting the opposition. Mrs Thatcher (or “Thatch” as she was affectionately known) single-handedly destroyed industry in England, because she didn’t like seeing pictures of dirty miners on her television screen. Such was her ego that she considered herself to be two people. When her first grand child was born, she wobbled up to the camera and said: We are a grandmother.” Now I’m sure that Atilla considered this to be a profound statement, but in reality it was because she was in fact a man - here is proof:



Following her years of dictatorship, Atilla was replaced by a robot called John Major, otherwise known as “The Grey Man”. This man was so dull that he quite literally sent everybody to sleep as soon as he opened his mouth. John Major should actually have been an accountant; how he managed to accidentally become Prime Minister is anybody’s guess. I would post a link showing a typical John Major speech but I fear you would immediately fall asleep. Here he is:

After Major bored us all to coma, we were subjected to His Royal Tonyness, Tony Blair, also known as “Tony Bliar”. Unlike his predecessor, Tony has a smile so huge that crows often get stuck in his teeth. In fact, Tony’s teeth are bigger than his head (and that is big enough):

Tony was great; Tony was cool; Tony was in a rock band. Tony can sing. He even did a duet with George W Bush:

After His Royal Tonyness came the dour Gordon Brown, our current Prime Minister, a man who has more lives than a cat. Gordon the Gopher has led the UK into recession. He has a fake smile that can scare even the bravest warrior. When I first saw him smile, I fled from the room, screaming for my Mum. Those of a nervous disposition, please DO NOT click the following (no matter how tempted you are):

He is famous for saying “No more boom and bust”. I presume he wasn’t talking about the economy when he blurted out these ill-chosen words; I guess he was talking about his expanding waistline.

Patron Saints

The patron saint of England is St George, who is also the patron saint of binge-drinkers. On one particularly boozy night, St George hallucinated and thought he saw a dragon. He promptly slayed the imaginary beast with his wooden spoon and somehow managed to convince a whole nation that he had done so.

The patron saint of Ireland is St Patrick, who is also the patron saint of Guinness drinkers. Every year, on March 17th, the whole of Great Britain goes out and gets drunk, including Queen Delia of Norwich. The video earlier in the post was filmed on March 17th.

The patron saint of Scotland is St Andrew, who is also the patron saint of monsters. Every St Andrews day, the Loch Ness Monster, or “Nessie” to her friends, crawls out of Loch Ness and shares a haggis and a pint of “heavy” with the locals.

The patron saint of Wales is St David, who is also the patron saint of rugby. Every Saturday thousands of Welshmen sing their hearts out at rugby union games throughout the country and are generally happy (mainly because they don’t have to play English teams).

Major Cities

London is the capital of England. It was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Londinium” which is Latin for “speakers of cockney-rhyming slang”. Romans found it difficult to understand the language, which hasn’t changed in centuries. I mean, do you know what the following sentence means?

“Would you Adam and Eve it? I was having my barnet cut and I had a butchers through the window when I saw this geezer fall down the apple and pears.”

It means:

“Would you believe it? I was having a haircut and looked out of the window just in time to see a man fall down the stairs.”

People from London are called cockneys and think that Great Britain is contained with the boundaries of Greater London. Everyone else is “from the Norf”. Here's a typical cockney:

Birmingham is the second city in England. It was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Brummigumus”, which is Latin for “speakers of a poor pseudo Black Country accent”. Again Roman’s found it difficult to understand the language in this city – it is like Black Country accent – only far less classy. Birmingham people think that their city is at the centre of the universe. In reality, the centre of the universe is just a few miles up the road, in the Black Country, at a little place called Walsall.

Manchester is the real capital of England. It was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Mamucium”, which means “City of Paradise”. Julius Caesar declared “Mamucium” to be the true capital of the Roman Empire and decreed that only the greatest human beings in Britain would be allowed in the city; something that still stands today. Manchester is home to the crème de la crème of British citizenship; only the most intelligent and beautiful people in Great Britain are allowed within the city limits. I sneaked in twenty four years ago, through the sewage system.

In Scotland, there are two major cities; Edinburgh and Glasgow. Edinburgh was discovered by Mel Gibson who promptly went to war with the English and then retreated to Edinburgh castle. Glasgow was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Glaswegia”, which is Latin for “wearers of kilts”. Nobody outside Glasgow can understand a Glaswegian. Listen to this:



Does it make sense to you? No, it doesn't make sense to me either.

In Wales, we have Cardiff. Cardiff was discovered by the Romans, who named the place “Armus Parkus”, which is Latin for “Home of Welsh Rugby”. Cardiff is a fabulous city and I have always had a magnificent time there. On Saturday nights, the city is full of Welsh people singing in close harmony as they consume Brains Bitter. I was of course instantly recognised as an Englishman because when I sing, cats throw themselves under cars.

In Northern Ireland we have Belfast, which was discovered by the Romans. They named the city “Belfast”, which is Latin for “Home of Georgie Best”. George Best hailed from there and is one of the greatest players ever to grace the English football league. I wish George Best had been English.

Anyway, that’s enough for now. More may follow in later posts. In the meantime, if you have any questions about Great Britain, please fell free to ask me.

I may even tell you the truth next time ...