Bulging brides my arse...

Mistress R and I are somewhat obsessed with 'Biggest Loser USA', series seven of which is currently being shown here in the afternoons on a channel called Pick TV. We watch it every single day without fail, we're just hoping that when it finishes we get season eight!

 When the channel 'Really' started, we were treated to the truly epic 'Tool Academy USA' so we were pissed when Really tailed off and just became a 24/7 mishmash of Border Control/Police Camera Bollocks, with only Cheaters (and that's weak!) in it's place. 

So we were really rather chuffed when a new series came on a couple of weeks ago right before 'Biggest Loser', called 'Bridalplasty'... oh yes, now there was epic car crash reality TV that could maybe even play in the big leagues with the likes of Brett Michaels' 'Rock of Love'. Sadly, it was over all too soon... and the memory of a dozen women competing to have their noses splinted, boobs enhanced and chins and arms liposuctioned (not to mention getting the wedding of their dreams) is already fading, so we were excited to see a new show had replaced 'Bridalplasty' called 'Bulging Brides'.

Unfortunately, BB's does not live up to the name. I was expecting a house full of hateful, roly-poly fridge bothers, calling each other 'be-atch' and maybe even throwing each other in a pool. But no, there's none of that, the first bride was under 140lbs... what the fuck! That's not bulging.... that's like the skinniest person you know moaning that they have a fat arse, just fuck off!

Consider that a point against you Pick TV, get your finger out, this is just shit. Why not plunder the Charm School series or give us the first series of Tool Academy that Really omitted to broadcast. And while you're at it make sure you've got the next series of Biggest Loser ready to go, I know there's about another five (plus the five before you started showing them!).

Totally stoked to see Tara kicking Sione's ass in the car pulling challenge after they all ganged up on her to handicap her with extra weight. Awesome job!

Senior moments...

So annoying. On the drive to work this morning something annoyed me and I thought it would make a perfect rant, but now I can't remember what the fuck it was. I guess this is what comes of getting older, I remember my Grandpa walking into the lounge once with the teapot in his hand... and asking us where the teapot was. I also remember him looking for his glasses when they were on top of his head. He wasn't senile or anything, just old... still I guess it's better than the alternative.

But, she's so beautiful...

I watched one of those '40 Craziest Celebrity Divorces' kind of programmes on Really last night (I know, I can't help it), and the thing that makes me laugh is the way the 'talking head' people are like 'how could you cheat on her, she's so beautiful'. For instance, some guy (I forget his name) was married to Halle Berry, and apparently he cheated on her, and they were just completely unable to compute that this guy cheated on Halle Berry, Halle Fucking Berry for fucks sake! Because she's so gorgeous...
I'm not arguing that Halle Berry is attractive, but maybe she's not a particularly nice person, or maybe she spends so much time at the gym that she's too tired for sex, or maybe she doesn't want to accommodate this blokes kinks, or whatever.... Don't get me wrong I'm not saying that these are justifications for infidelity, because they aren't, but you can't just say 'Halle Berry is gorgeous why would anyone cheat on her', it's a fucking stupid statement.
I mean, this guy lives with her every day, he's not going to be in awe of her every time he sees her naked, it will become 'normal', it has to. He's seen her drunk, or with a cold, or whatever...
Beauty is far too easily confused with sexiness these days, most Hollywood beauties have as much sex appeal as a broken twig as far as I'm concerned, and the chances are that even the most 'normal' of them are probably neurotic to some extent, they don't live a normal life so how can you really expect them to be 'normal'.
A relatively 'plain' looking woman can still be smoking hot, if she's confident and you have the right chemistry together, on the other hand if you don't have the right chemistry then it doesn't matter how good looking you are, looks aren't gonna last you a lifetime.
Besides, would you rather be dating Halle Berry or say, Sasha Grey?

Paracetomol...

Why oh why oh why are you not allowed to buy more than two packets of paracetomol (or products containing the same)? If I was contemplating suicide would it really defeat me to have to go to more than one shop to buy enough to kill myself? And would I really choose to end it all with Lemsip? Come on!!!

I just don't get it...

Why is it that the greatest crime of the 21st century is having a hairy back? When did this happen? And why is it such a big deal? Questions, questions and more questions. I for one have quite a hairy back, and should I ever become single again (Heaven forbid!) I worry that I would have to make a visit to the waxing salon before I even thought about entertaining the idea of a 'date'...

What I don't quite understand is why it's the back that's the problem. If you don't like hairy men, well fair enough, we all have our types, our likes and dislikes and the things that are deal breakers (mine's mainly children or the desire to create them), but why is a hairy back so much worse than a hairy chest? I just don't get it.

Really, if that's the biggest problem you have in a prospective relationship, then either your priorities are all off kilter or you have truly met the perfect man. I have this imaginary scenario running around my head where I am on a date with a hot woman and I keep spewing out all my heinous faults, my huge gambling debts, my inability to stay faithful, my out of control drinking, my 40 a day habit, my sudden unprovoked jealous rages, my uncontrollable letching at inappropriately aged girls in bars... all of these are dismissed with little more than a roll of the eyes and an almost imperceptible shrug. And then I hit her with the big one, the hairy back.

No sooner have the words left my lips then she's on her feet, her wine glass thrust into my face, it's contents soaking slowly into my Armani shirt... "You pig," she screams as she flees the restaurant, only pausing at the door to reveal my terrible secret to the rest of the diners, before hurrying from sight, the cold night air streaming in through the open door until one of the sour faced (and no doubt smooth backed)  waiters crosses the now utterly silent room to close it. I look around the beautifully decorated room but see nothing but dozens of disbelieving eyes starring unblinkingly at me, their expressions somewhere between horror and disgust, until finally I can take it no more and call for the bill.

The smooth backed waiter brings my check immediately, bends close to my ear and whispers in his most disdainful voice 'Don't come back here until you have your affairs in order, your kind make me sick'.

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After reading this Mistress R and I discussed this and she said isn't it weird how not that long ago having a hairy chest was a sign of male virility, and if you have a hairy chest you probably have a hairy back too. She went on to point out that she couldn't actually think of a single male 'celebrity' with any hair at all, front or back, which seems incredibly unlikely doesn't it? 

You got served...

This post isn't so much a rant, because the subject doesn't annoy me, more bemused amusement...

Walking through Asda (that's Wal-Mart for our American readers) yesterday I spotted a selection of cheap DVDs. Among them was a DVD called 'You Got Served', a phrase I'd previously heard on South Park. And sure enough the DVD in question appeared to be a 'Dancing' video. Now I don't know about you, but outside of the school of performing arts or possibly the set of 'Glee', has anyone ever had someone come up to them and challenge them to a dance off?
Really? Well, not round these parts, but perhaps since this seems to be an American thing it's more common over the pond?
It's a strangely Pythonesque idea that if I was ever to venture into 'the Hood' (as I believe it's called), that rather than being mugged and shot by drug-dealing Yankees-cap wearing yoofs, I might be challenged to dance for my aggressors. I can see them now, leaping over cars in brightly coloured clothing, brandishing a ghetto blaster (can we still call them that or have the taste police put a stop to that?) and bouncing around me in their unlaced, and again almost inevitably brightly coloured trainers (of course, being English, I have almost certainly no talent for dancing. We Brits are about as stiff as it's possible to be when it comes to that sort of thing).
Or perhaps it's a load of bollocks that only actually happens in films and on TV? I hope not, cos it would be quite funny to watch and a positive step up from drive-by shootings.

Peach halves...

Fucking peach halves piss me RIGHT off. I like tinned peaches, they are much nicer than proper peaches and healthy and all that jazz (in juice not syrup!). Peach slices are bloody lovely, but peach halves suck. First of all, when you tip them into a bowl they are too big so they splash the juice over the side and onto the worktop. Second of all, you have to cut them up so you can eat them. What's the point of a peach half? Nobody is going to eat them whole so everyone is cutting them up. Thirdly, for some reason known only to Del Monte and the people who make supermarket peaches, peach slices are immune from the curse of the hard red bit where the peach flesh sticks to the stone in the middle. It is ghastly. And peach halves always have a bit of it.
Of course, you could well ask why then, instead of moaning about it, don't I buy peach slices and not peach halves? Well, there's a very simple answer, I would if I could find them. Plenty of peach halves for sale, not so many peach slices, perhaps cos everyone else thinks the same way I do and they've all been snapped up? I wouldn't be at all surprised!