Random Boo

Freeview appears to be all the quality that was once offered by the old five channel analogue system, only now is divided over forty plus channels. Most of which present nothing but back to back ‘Cash In The Attic’, a show that I have observed before but never witnessed anybody ever actually go in an attic, should really be called ‘Cash In The Shed’.  Britain’s Got Talent! The names incorrect for a start, and not only does it make me cringe but is also suspiciously much like Fame Academy and Pop Idol. Freeview also has a lot of channels that don’t even start till six o’clock and even then it’s not long before they show cheap game shows. Presenters I’ve never heard of drugged up on Prozac ripping off Family Fortunes, and using surveys taken in Cardiff, so the top answer on famous cities in England is Ryan Giggs. Graham Norton is given his own show because they literately can not find anywhere to dump him. The channel Dave just has five episodes of TopGear on a loop. A gay, a lesbian, and a drag queen walk into a room, no this isn’t a joke, it’s called Big Brother, and it’s accompanied by even more mind numbing shows like Big Brother’s Little Brother, Big Brother’s Big Mouth, Big Brother’s Little Sister, Big Brother’s Second Cousin Twice Removed, well I’m making them up now. So many adverts are vomited out; an episode of QI can last up to two hours. The News is presented by twelve different people playing musical chairs, and the weather man’s background map has been replaced by what looks like Space Invaders. Entertainment, Informative? Just looks like crap to me.

Constant pressure to conform
To act, to play, to perform
On a stage set as born
To follow a life forlorn
Be wallow, pride be worn
Life’s prearranged script unsworn
A souls thorn renders dreams torn
To live a life, a life unborn

Blasting clatter in a bang of despair, nothing can match the aggravation inflicted by the exasperatingly high pitched screaming of the alarm clock, and at the blink of my wakening it was most unwelcome.  Another day awaited me. Even as I pen this dribbling nostalgic confetti of reminiscence, my mind pierces in antagonism.  But, like every show that is one’s life, the show must go on. Ascend; I then performed, as I escaped the place of my slumbering rest. The deserted bed felt damp and flat, as the bed sheet adhered to my skin. Clinging like fate, I knew then at that very moment that it was all downhill from there.