I’m my own grandpa?

23 May

What in the name of [insert deity here] posseses people to appear on the likes of Jeremy Kyle, Trisha, and Springer?

Let me make it clear from the off – I’m thrilled that the country appears to be populated by THICK narcissistic idiots who can’t see their being exploited and mocked, because it gives me ample opportunity to mock their exploitation. But I hope that I will someday never be so frustrated that rather than have a private row, or seek the advice of a professional counsellor, I decide to drag my sorry ass and air my dirty laundry on national television. [Realises I have now sealed my own fate and will find myself on Kyle before the year is out].

Frankly I’d never go on Trisha, because I have only once seen her give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Jeremy Kyle promises the fun of a lie detector and/or paternity test. I’ve never had either, so that could be interesting. If anyone’s thinking about pinning their sprog on me, you’ve got your work cut out. Really… I don’t get out often enough for that.

As Jeremy points out, if you don’t want to end up on his show, try a) contraception or b) not sleeping around.

More shocking is the amount of bed swapping that goes on between families. I can’t work out if these ‘reality’ shows are mirroring the soaps (Eastenders, Coronation Street etc.) or visa versa. I suspect life imitates art, but that’s my innocent upbringing makes me hope think that.

I’ve often wondered how disfunctional you could actually get as an individual? Certainly the more complicated it gets the more it must mess up your life in years to come. So for example, you could be the product of a donor sperm and a donor egg (2 parents), implanted in a surrogate (#3), then given to an adopted family (#4 and #5) and with today’s divorce rates being what they are, let’s say you get step-parents too – that’s 7 potential parents! Eeek. And what about step-siblings, lost families and so on. Could get messy. One of the best [best, erm, I mean most fucked-up and yet mesmerising] messed up stories is those where siblings are split at birth and find each other years later but aren’t aware they’re siblings, end up having a relationship before the truth comes out. Ohhh, messy.

What does that do to an individual? I know quite a few people who have step-families, and families they never knew about. On the whole they’re no more messed up than anyone else I know (that is, we’re all messed up, but not disastrously so). I’m thinking about those whose lives are really a confused web.

Identity seems to be important. I like to know who I am, where I came from. I’m not saying it shapes me, but I want to relate who I am to the heritage I have. Some makes sense, some does not.

Okay, so now you have a better idea of the diseased nature of my mind and just how much time I give to these things…

Car-crash tv. I love it. And I hate it. Gets me really fired up.

PS: Don’t forget to watch the video! Bet you thought the Muppet Show was for kids too…


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