Welcome to Thrush TV….
(it’s bloody irritating)
Over the Christmas holiday, was it my imagination or were there more than enough irritations on the box than usual?
It was relentless, aside from the crap standard of the programmes dumb-down TV offered us as a supposedly quality Christmas schedule, it was the adverts, the same rubbishy adverts, repeated over and over again that really did send me into such a seasonal gloom….. Sofas, hampers, more sofas, crap music compilations, still more sofas….. and M&S…
Oh yes, M&S, was in a whole different league of irritability.
"This is not a quality advert.
It is the most irritating, condescending, load of pretentious old rubbish from a has-been-saggy shop, right down on its uppers.
This is an M&S advert, so desperate to sell you stuff that we’ll throw in some exotic words, sexy close up photography and a really annoyingly, whispering Dervla Kirwen voice-over – which surely proves that everyone has their price"…
And, as if that wasn’t enough, some tosser in the ad’ agency ‘Blag, Wag and Nobrail’ thought it would be a really great idea to shove on one of my favourite schoolboy anthems –‘Albatross’ by Fleetwood Mac as the backing track.
"This is not good, it’s a bloody disgrace"….
And then, there was the most hyped music album of the season. Every other advert seemed to be flogging an album by a man who is apparently the most fantastic singer-songwriter to come out of the British Army since Lord Baden-Powell. Apparently, B.P. wrote such classics as the rap version of ‘Dib-Dib-Dob ya Bitch’ - the traditional old favourite, ‘Ging Gang your Gooolies" and the rather risque, 'Can I wiggle your woggle, Skip?'.
Oh yes. Laydees and Gentlemen, James Blunt has left the Armoured Personnel Carrier and entered the album charts. Bloody hell, they’re flogging him like he’s the new Bob Dylan or something… The trouble with that song, that bloody awful whining song, is that once it gets into your head, it’s there for the entire duration. That tragi-falsetto-castrato, warbling away between your ears, scratching away at your brain cells, killing you softly with his screeching…
No doubt about it – it’s as painful as nails down the blackboard or an industrial accident involving a lump hammer, a very sharp chisel and an unprotected pair of testicles….
And yes, it’s right there innit, in your brain - and you can’t get rid of it, over and over again …….
(Just be glad I haven’t gone on about the SCS sofa sale adverts hosted by ex Spandau Ballet quiff boy, Martin Kemp)…