It's 7.35 am (approx - ie within an hour or so) I'm forcing down my marmite and peanut butter toast with a gargantuan sized mug of finest assam.
BBC Breakfast show (sadly sans Sophie) (but thankfully featuring Kate) blabs away about a new Basra located carnage. Repoters 'on the scene' frown into my eyes before diplomats and middle east experts expound learned analysis of the 'spiralling' situation. Politicians and spokespersons assail my senses.
I can take no more. In quiet desperation I switch the tv over to GMTV.
Suddenly I am assaulted by a positively 'day-glo' studio set where someone called Jade, two footballers I've never heard of and a fat family with crying baby on a sofa are bleating on about a 'reality' tv show I never WANT to hear of, let alone watch.
"Now the news" they announce.
"Posh and Beck's wowed the crowds last night at...blah blah blah"
Then "the nation holds its breath for tonight's episode of Coronation St".
Then "RnB superstar R Kelly visits the UK tomorrow - he's joining us on the sofa at GMTV" etc.
Blah blah Blah, Oh yeah - something about 'Iraq' they briefly mention.
Then "Sports news"
Apparently I'm the only person in the UK not anxiously awaiting the 'Euro/winners/premier/semi/tiebreak/cup-winners/re-match/final/league/climax between 'Sporting Athletico Cantata AC Madromo' and Millwall. (live on ITV for 16 hours this evening)
My ears are beginning to bleed and something unpleasant is happening to my few remaining brain cells.
I switch back over to BBC.
More carnage - fear - starvation and endless refugees.
I swallow my last piece of (now cold) marmite toast.
Ahhhh - that's better.
No comments:
Post a Comment