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Showing posts with label schlock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label schlock. Show all posts

Tuesday, 18 June 2013

...drink, smoke pot, lie a lot and have copious sex at 2:30am...


I was watching this pukeably sweet show this morning at 2:30 am when it was freezing cold and I couldn't sleep due to the cold and other reasons. It was Seventh Heaven – a schlock Yankee TV show about a bunch of god-botherers hell bent – okay – maybe heaven bent - on the fact that no one was supposed to have sex until they were married or all these terrible and dire things would happen like getting detention at school, sleeping in a tent in the backyard and arguing with parents over having sex before everyone forgiving everyone for having a penis and a vagina. The parents in question were this sappy, sickly sweet pair who made me want to drink, smoke pot, lie a lot and have copious sex at 2:30 am just to spite them. Basically, with this pair, it was a case of keep your legs together, think pure thoughts, eat cookies and be ridiculously annoying with sappy smiles and holier than thou bullshit sermons on goodliness. Plu-ease…

Did I mention there was nothing else on TV and I couldn’t sleep? Yes? Ok…good…anyway, I was thinking to myself who watches this bullshit, other than insomniacs? Who came up with the no sex until married bit and decided to force feed it in a TV show to insomniacs, and others, who have undoubtedly had sex before marriage and more than likely enjoyed it? Also, what message does it give to women? Without a man you can’t enjoy yourself? Be pure until married? What if you can’t remain pure? What if you’re an inherently impure insomniac? And the men in the show? Oh lordy…who’d want to have sex with them and their moralizing bullshit?


This sappy show went for 10 years on US TV and then it was forced on the rest of us drinking, whoring, pot smoking insomniacs. How did it go for 10 years?  I say take it off early morning TV and leave us impure  insomniacs alone. 

Sunday, 4 December 2011

The Bachelor...



It’s Sunday in Oz and that means at around 4:30pm-ish I down tools and slump in front of the TV and watch The Bachelor. Those of you who have no idea what that is probably means you have way more brain cells than me. Basically, it’s a Yankee show that features one man – ipso facto the Bachelor – and then a bunch of highly made up and generally silicon city women – meow – who all vie for his attentions supposedly in the name of true love and or a contract on Dancing with the Stars or something similar when they fall out of TV-land reality love. So from 20-something women they dwindle down to the last 4 who all proclaim love for this man they have spent maybe a hour with on a ‘one-on-one’ date while all being ‘very close’ to their fellow competitors in the race to TV love.

Why do I watch it? I think I like the schlock value of it most. I like the dramatic angst ridden ‘I love him the most’ moments, the crying, the catty looks and the carefully hidden behind a thin layer of snide remarks they make to each other. The one I’m watching at the moment is from 2009 and it features a bloke called Jason. I already Googled to see who he ended up with and the cliff hanger-gasp-shock-horror-he did-what-to-her-moment-we-all-hate-him-oh-wait-maybe-he-does-love-the-runner-up-isn’t-that-sweet-do-you-think-her-boobs-are-fake drama of it all. Love as defined by television – ain’t it gloriously plastic?