Absolute Rubbish!

Now, before I start, can I just say that I am under no illusions that my taste in TV (and in films and music for that matter) falls somewhere between awfully cheesy and positively dreadful. Just one glance at the contents of my iPod will get you to agree. I have everything from Britney Spears, S Club 7, Barry Manilow…all the way to the Masters of Cheese, Westlife.

But my husband is something else. A self-proclaimed music and film aficionado/guru, he looks down at my music and DVD collection with contempt and disdain. And yet, for all his snooty-nosed musings, he watches 2 TV shows that I think are worse than all my easy listening CDs combined.

As I type this, I am subjected to yet another rubbish episode of ‘Masters of Science Fiction’. I’ve never seen anything so utterly cringe-worthy in my entire life! These one-hour shows every Thursday evening on Bravo (need I say more?!?!) have the most ill-conceived, badly written and painfully shambolic scripts I have seen since Mission to Mars (don't even get me started on that one!).

Tonight’s episode is about a scientist who has developed these silver bird machines, who are supposed to uphold the delicate balance of the earth. So, like miniature Robocops, these creatures fly around the earth stinging the bad people with laser-like powers. And of course, just to add a bit of a twist (if you can call it that), the birds turn bad and go on a stinging spree.

Total and utter rubbish! Even my youngest niece can come up with a better story than that! Worse of all, my other half actually acknowledges that the show is crap, yet every week, we sit together and watch something even worse than Big Brother or I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.

To top it all off, Sundays are dedicated to another Bravo TV masterpiece – ‘Dog The Bounty Hunter’. A whole day of this pretend cop and his family of equally dodgy characters is almost impossible to avoid. Dog (yep, that’s his name) owns a bail bonds company in Hawaii, and when a criminal goes on a runner, he finds them and brings them to justice – with a twist! He gets all gooey and gives unsolicited advice for these hardened criminals to mend their ways. Aaww shucks!

I think I’ll be sticking to listening to my cheese this weekend. No, I don’t think – I know.

The Curse of Battlestar Galactica

It’s another Tuesday night and once again, I have been relegated to the bedroom, while my other half sits in the living room, surround sound on full force, watching what I consider to be his mistress - Battlestar Galactica. For one hour, I am not allowed to wander down the stairs or say a word lest his majesty be terribly irate. And so I sit up here, surfing the net, listening to cheesy songs as I wait for those 60 long minutes to lapse til I can move freely around my own home.

Perverse it may seem, but I believe that it’s healthy for married couples to have time alone - so if that means I am banished to the top of the tower, as it were, I guess that’s a small price to pay for years of married bliss.