I Drew This

TV is so shit right now. It’s Sunday night and C is flicking between Dancing with People Who Can’t and Oz Idol. There was just a bit in Idol, where they were telling a big girl that she was about to get through and were kind of quizzing her on her weight. Can she take the pressure, is she the kind of person that has the strength to go all the way? She’s so fat; how can she do it?

Of course she can fucking do it. She has an amazing voice. Isn’t that what you’re after? And if you’re talking about huge people, helloooo? Kyle? Looked in a fucking mirror lately? You seem to be doing okay in the big nasty media industry and, unlike the big girl, there’s not a shred of talent (unless you call being a rude fuck ‘talent’, as C has just pointed out).

It’s hard to watch Kyle say something “sincere”. Some guy was blubbering about a loving SMS he got from his dad (nothing says fatherly love like ‘u got it kid, go 4 it’) and Kyle said something like “That’s really great” in very half-hearted tones. The only thing that usually comes out of Kyle’s mouth is base, predictable and fairly tawdry invective but they do love the gushy mushy crap on Idol so Kyle’s obviously had a talking to. He has to be nice occasionally even if it’s completely unbelievable.

And they just pissed a guy off because he was being realistic about where Idol might take him. “To be honest, I don’t think I want to win,” he said, citing reasons that he’d seen previous winners go on to do not that much and not been that impressed. Silly boy. In doing so, he’s trashing the show and Dicko takes personal offence to that. And Kyle does his best job of pretending to be outraged. Marcia does her serious look and all three gods change their decisions from In to Bugger Off.

And we’ve just switched over to the ABC to see some bod on Inspector Barnaby’s beat whipping himself at the high altar of the Midsomer Anglican church. Nothing like a bit of shirtless flaggelation to spice up a Sunday night.

And Toni Pearen is heating up the floor and being wolf-whistled by a studio full of 50-year-old dorks in bad shirts. Poor thing, she actually looks like she knows what she’s doing, making Tod “Honest, officer, I don’t know where those pills came from” McKenney gush. It’s embarrassing to watch.

I think I might go and clip my nails.