Cunts cooking cakes

Is it just me that feels standards in television have sunk to an all time low? That actual entertainment is something consigned to the dustbin of media history? I suspect not…

I suppose it all started with Big Brother, a show so monumentally cheap, shoddy and boring that even the Channel 4 dumped it – but that didn’t stop Channel 5 picking it up and keeping it going. It’s now on 5*, a channel that most people don’t even bother to watch at all!

And that spawned another load of old bollocks – “I’m a non-entity, get the fuck outta here!” or something like that. Personally I just wish they’d leave them all in the jungle to starve to death, preferably ending up by eating those two failed childrens’ telly presenters, Act and Dec. That at least I would like to watch!

But it’s not new, of course. We had Opportunity Knocks and Thank Your Lucky Stars before the destroyer of modern music, Simon Cowell, came along with Pop Idol and X-Factor. And don’t get me started on Britain’s Got Talent because, frankly, it just hasn’t…

So here we go again. Masterchef rolls to a close and the two pretentious, irritating supercillious twats that present it get put back in the closet to be rolled out again in the next inevitable incarnation. Wow, it was so exciting! Whatever will we watch now?

Well, fear not because here comes another load of old cobblers to fill up the TV schedules : The Great British Bake Off. FFS! Cunts cooking cakes! Who gives a toss? No, really. Who gives a toss?

Well, Mary Berry for a start. The woman looks like Fanny Craddock has been dug up from the grave and brought back to life by Doctor Frankenstein. And then there’s that poncy self-opinionated Igor, Paul Hollow-wood. I mean, where do they find these people?

Which brings me round to property shows. Mrs D is addicted to shows like ‘Escape for the Incontinent’ and ‘A Place with the Scum’. We watch these dick heads buggering around trying to buy a five bedroom house in Spain with ten acres of land, an Olympic sized swimming pool, and wonderful views over the ocean on a budget of £50,000 and I wonder “Where the fuck do they find these people?”

The answer, of course, is quite simple. As Mrs D often explains : “They write in.”

Fucking says it all really…


8 responses to “Cunts cooking cakes

  1. As I may have said before, I stopped watching the idiot box about 7 years ago. The only glimpses I get are when I pay my daily visits to see mum in the nursing home. I really do think TV has reached rock bottom. The other day they were trailing an exciting new show called “Flock-Stars” – ooohhh what a clever play on words. It's one man and his dog (no not Lenny Henry & Dawn French) with celebrities – FFS!

    Do you remember Steve Coogan as Alan Partridge in the scene where he's pitching his ideas for new TV shows. It was funny at the time because of the ridiculous ideas he came up with. My favourite was “Monkey Tennis”. When asked by the commissioning editor what it was he replied “It's just a working title at the moment”. Sadly however, It won't be long before we're being asked to watch it.

    It was in some part due to the types of programmes that you listed that I gave up watching TV. The endless “makeover” shows, the endless “I'm a fading celebrity” shows and worst of all the “We're thick cunts with a pile of money, and need someone else to help us buy a house cos we're too dim to do it ourselves” shows.

  2. Monkey Tennis? Only a matter of time. Yes, I confess I saw Flock Stars advertised but I thought it was a wind up. Clearly not…

  3. NZ tele is ficking dire with ads every 6 minutes. That's why I spend all my time writing bollocks.

  4. I don't know whether you have noticed, but the lad 5th from the left looks like Hitler- I think we should be told.

  5. Liked Johnny Vegas' (I believe it was his) line. If you tell a lie long enough and loudly enough, people will believe it, like 'Britain's got talent'

  6. rapscallion

    You cunt Dioclese. You had me absolutely crying with laughter, tears rolled down the cheeks and onto the keyboard. Twat! I can barely see the fucking keyboard. The “5 bedroomed house” bit practically gave me cardiac arrest. Oh me ribs !

    It just beats your MIllitwat “which one's the dummy” sketch


  7. Thanks. One aims to please. I'm off on me hols again so I thought I'd best leave you wanting more as they say in show biz…

  8. Well, if The Great British Bake Off enrages you then The Great British BBQ must have passed you by (it's competing with celebrities with dogs herding sheep – (what japes!) as the latest must see. It'll either be as boring as Bake Off (there's only so much that can be done to a drop scone or a sausage) or as pretentious as Masterchef (perhaps some twat will ignite himself trying to barbie a vengeful edible flower).

    Anyway, I'm spending my evenings working on an idea to pitch: it involves six families each week having to find their way from Cleethorpes to the Amazonian jungle on their wits alone. In the jungle they have to design and build a house and throw a dinner party using ingredients they've hunted, killed, skinned, jointed and barbequed. The starter must include a dish with insects prepared in a different way and pudding must be a real show-stopper.

    I think it's a goer.