I had a day off this week to catch up on some stuff. I may have accidentally switched on the television mid-morning and it may have been on ITV. And who was on the television?(Who am I asking this question too?) It was Jeremy Kyle, the Trisha replacement, talk-show host, goat-loving (unsubstantiated, in fact made up) over-opinionated, person I’d most like to punch.
Everybody always used to laugh and look down on people on American Talk-shows. But, I think they should be laughing at us. Laughing at people who’s lives are so fucked up they’ve decided to embarrass themselves, by washing their shit-stained laundry on television.
The episode I saw, I mean glimpsed at, I mean barely noticed, featured a man who was unsure about whether the child he had been raising was his. Actually…I think this was on the Jerry Springer in the UK show, not Jeremy Kyle. But is accuracy really necessary in the world today? How faithful was the film Lord of the Rings : The Two Towers to the events that really occurred in Bristol all those hundreds of years ago?( Apparently these questions are rhetorical, although as I‘m going to make no attempt to answer them, they are also something called ‘irrelevant‘. ) Where was I? (Bollocks!)
Yeah, this bloke thought maybe this kid was not his, so on comes the mother. When people make entrances to these type of shows they always, by convention I guess, have to spew out a ranting monologue to the person who’s been slagging them off. I think there must be a rule that under no circumstances must they pre-prepare these before entering, as it could inadvertently make them appear like they once went to school. On they come stand by the person sitting down and start shouting “YOU JUST NEED TO SHUT UP!”, “YOU AIN’T ALL THAT!”, “YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS!”, “WHAT YOU DOING WITH THAT GOAT KYLE?”
In this instance a genuinely fantastic exchange takes place. The mother is pissed-off. Annoyed and hurt by this hurtful ( hurt and hurtful in the same sentence can it be done? (Just accept it) ) accusation.
“I’ve only slept with you. What makes you think that she’s not your child anyway?” she says arms waving around like only someone that ugly can. Good question I think. She’s backed him into a corner. He’s now going to have to make a case, and we the public will judge if it’s good enough. And if it’s not, he will surely be killed by a pack of hunting dogs, who will be extra-specially hungry as they don‘t get no fox action these days.
“You told me it might not be my baby” came the reply. Ah..oh dear…So…..ehhh…. Well he might be lying because he’s on television? The outrage on the girl’s face certainly betrays the fact that she does not agree with his recollection of what she said. It’s still game-on. And then the girl, who I can’t remember the name of, but for the purposes of this story we’ll call her ’fucking stupid’ comes up with her argument to this supposed recollection. She delivers it in a tone and manner which displays such disgust at what the bloke, let’s call him ‘Fucking Stupid-To-Go-Anywhere-Near-Her’, has said that her whole body wobbles. With an accusing finger outstretched, she raises her ass from her chair, and shouts the immortal words.
“I ONLY EVER SAID THAT ONCE!!!”
I don’t know what this bloke’s problem is! How can he doubt it’s his baby if she only ever said he wasn’t the father once? Of course it’s his baby. If it hadn’t been, she would have told him there were doubts over the parentage the minimum three times, as required by British law.
Anyway I can’t remember what the DNA test said. It was definitely either not his child or his child. I’m off to get a pasty!