Weekend doing nothing

This weekend I mainly sat on my arse, reading and watching DVDs with the Dear One. We also went to the pub for Sunday lunch. All in all a weekend to savour (I am not being ironic, really). No, really, why can’t more weekends involve the grand sum doing nearly bugger all?

So, the only thing I missed was The Freak Zone. Chest la, I’m sure it’ll be on iPlayer this evening. There certainly won’t be any telly on, so at least I'll have an evening free - no a whole week really - to catch on musical weirdness.

But yesterday I saw it: a 42 inch Panasonic TV: £699 from Tezzers. A lovely trinket to treasure before I die. It has a great picture too, audio description facility built in (an essential for Mrs D) and even I can see it with my errant eyeballs.

(By the way, this isn't the telly concerned, in case you were wondering)

BBC1, 2, 3, four, and you can forget most of commercial channels, apart from CH 4 news, which is the only news worth watching other than Paxo on form. ALL FREAKIN’ RUBBISH.

So, my Panasonic dream telly will be surely like the world’s most elegant picture frame.

With a turd inside it.

Not a picture of a turd, which might be at least artistically interesting, but a real live turd, once that’s warm its fresh extraction form one’s botty, one that stinks of garlic and eight hour digested cider. This is the state of telly today. Quite literally, shit. Even the good shit is reconstituted shit. Shit is shit. Telly is shit.

Time to buy some more books or get out more. Oh no, I just wrote how much I enjoyed not going out. What a bloody hypocrite.