I’m currently sat on the couch trying to focus on writing something that is even slightly readable whilst my wife Rene and her mother watch ‘One Every Minute’ a tv show about women giving birth, over and over again… (different people obviously, though it’s set in Liverpool so that’s not necessarily a given)
I honestly don’t know how this made it as a multi series show… Well that’s not true, if goggle-box can get multiple seasons then literally anything can. The premise of the show is fairly straightforward. Women come in, they scream, a baby is born, they go home. The entertainment value comes from judging the parents, which with the show being set in Liverpool is often too easy.
This episode featured an 18 year old who looked about 50 having her second kid and Miss Piggy from the muppets having her 4th. I know Rene is watching it to get a better understanding of what to expect during labour, but I think we need to keep watching it after the birth so we can turn it into a drinking game. So far here are the rules I’ve come up with:
- Mother comes on with more kids than teeth – Drink
- Close up shot of a vagina – Drink
- Dad cries and the camera zooms in on his face – Drink
- Baby might not be taken away by child protective services – Drink
- Midwife patronises everyone in the room – Drink
- Man has to pretend he wants the baby because the cameras are on – Drink
We’ll probably have to start with something very low % otherwise we’ll die before the first advert break.
Today I elected to travel home without headphones on in an attempt to be perceptive and hopefully come up with something to fucking write about.
It’s been such a nothing day I was convinced I’d have to blog about how sore my feet are from standing too much (they are really sore). Sadly my attempts to eavesdrop on people’s business didn’t unveil a secret murder plot or a lizard conspiracy. No most of the strangers conversations I did manage to hear were about as interesting as a lecture entitled ‘the history of cardigans’. That being said these are a few of the interesting lines I did manage to overhear:
“You know Sarah?” enquired uppity self important looking woman, probably in her early twenties.
“Who?” replied vacant looking surfer hair.
“That bitch that got herself diagnosed with cancer”
Queue ‘that escalated quickly’ meme. How she got herself diagnosed with cancer is still a mystery. I mean maybe she meant ‘that bitch who was diagnosed with cancer’ but I guess phrasing it correctly makes you sound like a bit of a cunt, where as adjusting the wording slightly puts doubt on whether or not Sarah even has cancer in the first place. What sort of person pretends to have cancer… Fuck you Sarah.
The next gem I overheard came from a pack of speed walkers, you know, those people dressed for a jog but not quite prepared to fully commit. The sort of people that buy shake weights and yoga balls.
“It’s not like I’d put shopping on my cv, but I am definitely a professional at it”
Now reading this you’d be forgiven for thinking that lycra clad single mum 2 was making a joke, not a great joke, but a humorous way to imply she shops too much. Sadly not, nods and affirmative grunts from lycra clad single mum 1 & 3 suggested that this was in fact intended as a factual statement. Which makes me think that if she wanted to add it to her CV, she probably wouldn’t struggle for space.
Unfortunately that was all I managed to overhear, I mean I could make some stuff up but nothing I make up could do justice to the final thing I saw on my journey home. As I was walking down my street; I turned the corner and came face to face with a deliveroo cyclist texting with one hand and eating a chicken drumstick with the other. Now if you don’t know what Deliveroo is, it’s poor people hand delivering food to rich people, but I think you’re missing the point. This guy was on a bike that was carting a big box of food, he was looking at his phone and eating chicken SIMULTANEOUSLY! What is this guy doing working as a delivery man when he has skills like that! Also where did he get a single chicken drumstick? Was it part of the delivery? So many questions… So little inclination to end this post with a meaningful conclusion.