My husband has lost the plot
It’s the
worst he’s been so far
He tried to
change the TV
Channel with
a chocolate bar
My husband has lost the plot
It’s the
worst he’s been so far
He tried to
change the TV
Channel with
a chocolate bar
I watched a riveting documentary
On television last
night
It was all about how
ships were
Put together by
shipwrights
In the ITV Newsroom
Just ahead of the
action
The producer announces
“Lights Camera
Fiction”
In the C4 Newsroom
Just ahead of the
action
The producer announces
“Lights Camera
Fiction”
In the SKY Newsroom
Just ahead of the
action
The producer announces
“Lights Camera
Fiction”
In the GBNewsroom
Just ahead of the
action
The producer announces
“Lights Camera
Fiction”
There was Snow in the forecast!
And the TV weather girl said
“I’m expecting 8 inches tonight”
I thought to myself, “what a big head”
And anyway, with a
face like that
She’d need her
vibrator Instead
My Sky Box is on the blink
It’s possessed, I'm in no doubt
It records all the programs I don't like
And plays them back when I’m out
He called out to his wife
As he sat watching TV
"When I die, I’m
going to leave
Everything to you, sweetie!"
She shouted back,
"You already do,
you lazy B"
It seems to me that a man in his middle years
Is rendered more
attractive, almost immediately,
To the opposite sex,
if found to be wealthy
And/or he is a well-known
TV celebrity
I went to the local video shop and said,
“Can I borrow “Batman
Forever?” My friend”
He said, “No, I’m
afraid that’s not possible
Now I’ve had my sight restored
Thanks to the surgeon’s
precision
I finally appreciate
the worth
Of TV in High
Definition
After spending so many
years
Watching TV in Monet
vision
I always loved the A-Team
A force for good
Coming to the rescue
All guns blazing
But no one ever got
shot
Hannibal Smith was the
brains
B.A.Baracus the brawn
Face was the fixer,
And howling mad
Murdock
Well need I say more
Well, they’re coming
back
In a newish sort of version
Well, a Jewish sort of
version
Called the Oy Vey team
With Chaim Schmitt
BA Barabbas
Fizzog and Kinda
Miffed Mazel Tov
In order to keep supping
From the gravy train
The hangers on have
boarded
The chav express again
Moving the Goody show
To the stage from
satellite
So they can still cash
in
And keep her in the
spotlight
As if this crazy world
Wasn’t already
farcical
Now we have to suffer
Jade the fucking
musical
Britain’s got talent
Of that there’s no
doubt
Britain’s got talent
The secret is finally
out
Britain’s got talent
In depth and variety
Britain’s got talent
For every one to see
But apart from talent
shows
And the Royal Variety
There is no outlet
For these acts on TV
Where it not for
Blackpool
And Lakeside in
Frimley
There would be no
outlet at all
For our wonderful
variety
So Simon Cowell
Master of the TV
franchise
Give us more variety
on TV
As a feast for our
eyes
Britain has got talent
An unseen depth of it
But it doesn’t matter
If we never get to see
it
“I’d do anything” how apt a title
A motto for the wannabee
A catch phrase for the starstruck
And all those lacking dignity
Just another in a long line
Of talent shows from hell
Just another TV concept
Ringing out its death knell
But how clever is the Lord
To have the dear old BBC
Foot the bill for the auditions
Out of the TV license fee
Then the members of the public
Who vote as they view
Get to Pay via the phone-ins
For the shows advertising too
Since the
advent of Cable and Satellite the quality of the entertainment seems to diminish
as each Christmas passes.
It used to
be bad enough in the old days when there were only three channels to fill.
Now we allegedly
have more choice than we have ever had, although I think the reality is that we
merely have more channels.
The
terrestrial channels can’t compete and to be honest don’t even try any more to
offer anything that we might consider to be of acceptable quality.
Year after
year all five channels are packed with a mixture of repeats and things which
should never be seen again.
Take this
Christmas just gone, I can’t think of one single stand out program that appeared
on the terrestrial channels.
To be truthful
it doesn’t have to be the latest Christmas schedule as every one is the same.
The Great
Escape, Tom Browns schooldays, Mr Chips and the obligatory Sound of Music.
However there
are sometimes a selection of new dramas though quite honestly they do flatter
to deceive.
I remember
one holiday season several years ago one of the offerings was something called
Uncle Adolph.
God alone
knows what they were thinking.
Ken Stott
had the lead role, although he was more reminiscent of Groucho Marx than the
Fuhrer and at one point good old incestuous Uncle Adolph was sat knocking out a
tune on the piano to impress his pretty young niece and I genuinely thought he
was going to burst into a chorus of “Springtime for Hitler”.
To be quite
honest the play couldn’t have been anymore ludicrous if he had.
I do still get
my bumper Christmas edition of the Radio Times every year and open it with real
hope that this year will be better than the one before, but alas.
For those who are visiting from another planet the
Good Life, Written by John Esmonde and Bob Larbey was about a man who, on
reaching his fortieth birthday, decides to give up the rat race and becomes
self-sufficient.
The man having the midlife crisis is Tom Good (Richard
Briers), who with the help and support of his long-suffering wife Barbara, (Felicity
Kendal) turns his detached Surbiton home, into an urban farm.
This doesn't go down too well with their good friends
and neighbours, Jerry Leadbetter (Paul Eddington) and his snooty wife Margot, (Penelope
Keith).
The Christmas episode, “Silly, But It's Fun”, first broadcast 26th December 1977 is in my
opinion the funniest Christmas sitcom ever made.
Most Christmas sitcoms highlight
the most negative aspects of the day creating a kind of nightmarish microcosm
of family life at Christmas.
The Good Life was the story of
contrasts, with the Good’s making the best of the meagre resources they had,
while the Leadbetter’s just bought the best of everything and lots of it.
In “ Silly, But It's Fun” Margo
ordered Christmas to be delivered from Harrods on Christmas Eve but refused
delivery when the tree was six inches shorter than the one, she had ordered.
As she rejected the tree, she also
rejected everything else, including Jerry’s gin, under the impression that
Harrods would redeliver Christmas including a tree of the requisite height for
her later that day.
She was sadly mistaken and on
Christmas Day she had to phone around cancelling all their Christmas
engagements under the pretext that Jerry has Chicken pox.
Jerry was unperturbed at having
political chicken pox but horrified when he discovered that there was no more
gin.
Enter the Goods, who save the day
by inviting the Leadbetter’s to their house for the day and a good time was had
by all, they all got plastered on pea pod burgundy and played silly party games.
The moral of the tale being that
you can’t buy Christmas you have to make it yourself.
A wife sat down on the couch
Next to her husband
As he was flipping channels
With the remote in hand
She asked, “What's on TV?”
He replied “Dust mainly”