Thanks for your comments on the last post.
Saturday Night Telly Thoughts. ( Anybody under forty five may not remember some of the programmes on UK television!)
What ever happened to Seaside Special and The Grumbleweeds Radio Show on Saturday nights? They were
fun when I was growing up in the Seventies and eighties. Then it would be Starsky and
Hutch or Kojak. Followed my the
News and Match of the Day.
I often fell to sleep waiting for my mum to bring back
something from the chip shop. I never
understand why they always gave me a pile of newspapers?
Once I remember
my mum and dad coming back with my dad’s rather posh female cousin and her even
posher fiance. Posh fiance attempted
to wake me up to eat my chippy supper.
My father thought that this would not be a good idea. I would turn into a wasp if I was disturbed
whilst dreaming of Wonder Woman.
Said posh fiance.
"I’ve had lots of experience in my time dealing with children”.
He tried talking softly in my ear:
“Come on Davy boy wake up”.
“Why does he suddenly have an Irish accent?”
was not rousing from my slumber. Posh fiance begins to shake my arm. I
suddenly wake up sounding like a leprechaun with a Poteen induced hangover:
“Piss off, piss off leave me alone!”
Posh guests were not impressed, and they never visited us again. But what’s that got to do with the X Factor? Absolutely nothing. But it describes my Saturday nights when I
I quite like the X Factor and Britain’s Got
Talent. Well apart from Mickey Most or
is it Simon Cowell? Remember the New
Faces? The idea of finding some new
talent from the great “unwashed” is a brilliant idea. They do find some remarkable talent like
Susan Boyle and Paul Potts. But your not
telling me that it’s a surprise when a odd looking person changes into the Next
Elaine Paige or Pavarotti?
They obviously have
lots of auditions before they meet the panel? No doubt picking out the most eccentric 'Turns' to appear on the programme. Any body average looking or acting normal
with talent. Need not bother. It’s car crash television. A modern day equivalent of watching somebody
in the stocks!
An old friend once told me he was stood outside the pub having a smoke and he saw two women fighting last night. It was:
“You bitch, you slag”.
They were pulling hair and scratching. One even started to punch.
"It was bloody brilliant!.”
Who needs the X Factor? Wonder what's on RTE? Perhaps I should start going to the pub again on a Saturday night? Fancy a pint?