The life I almost had; the reblog

It’s time for Remember The Time with Emily and Kelly again. This week, it’s wildcard time so I’ve dug through previous posts and found one about the time I became a TV presenter. That’s right. Became a TV presenter.

“Another career I pursued quite seriously when I was younger was as a presenter. I had my own TV programme. This one’s quite embarrassing so be supportive, please….

The show was called ‘Parents, Get Out’ and I presented it from my bed, the ceiling being the camera. I would start by saying, ‘ok kids, it’s time for the parents to get out!’ and the TV would have a sensor so it could detect any adults in the room. I wouldn’t start the show until I could see that all the parents had gone.

I’d then spend the next hour (actually I don’t know how long it really was but it felt like ages) talking about kid’s stuff. I don’t know what exactly I chatted about. The best part is that I did it all in a faux American accent, which I thought I was pretty good at.

I had ‘co-presenters’ too. Two guys called John and Nathan, I think. In the middle of an item I was presenting I’d stop and hold my hand to my ear and go “Ok John, that’s fascinating, great, yeh, I’ll hand over to you now. Kids, here’s John, he’s got a great story for us.” And then I’d lie there looking at the camera (ceiling) for a few minutes, in silence, while I imagined the other news story going on.

I don’t know how long the programme ran for but I remember doing it for a long time, enough to perfect my pretend accent. Maybe the TV company took us off air because we were too successful, we were stealing all the viewers. It was probably jealousy and a feeling of inferiority from others which got us shut down.

Well, maybe if I hit 40 and I’ve not achieved worldwide domination of the music charts or become a bestselling author, I know I’ve got that to fall back on. It’s always good to have a back up plan.”

A book review. Ish.

It’s not really a book review at all. It’s a list of the things I love most about D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover, which I am listening to on audiobook.

1. The way they talk about their ‘crisis’ for an orgasm.

2. Listening to the intimacies of a love affair being explained in a broad Yorkshire accent.

3. When Connie is being described as young and virile and, in amongst it all, her breasts are said to be ‘longish.’

4. The way he talks about her bum as her ‘tail.’

5. The gamekeeper’s long rant about ‘lesbians,’ which leads me to think lesbians must have been something different in 1929. For example, he talks about how he hates lesbians because when he sleeps with a lesbian, they are really selfish in bed. Surely a lesbian, in our sense of the word, wouldn’t be sleeping with him at all?

6. Connie’s constant need for reassurance that makes me want to tell her to shut up; “You do love me, don’t you?” “Don’t you want me?” “Don’t you love me?” “Tell me you love me?” “Do you love me?”

7. Ivy Boulton’s long rambling descriptions of her husband, Ted, and how he died and how he was a miner and how she loved him.

8. The way Connie is said to have a ‘mound of Venus’ and the gamekeeper talks about his ‘John Thomas.’ Brilliant.

My James Bond moment

Firstly, I would like to know, as a newcomer to the world of James Bond, if they have always been such terrible films. I watched one last night and it was like watching a comedy. The English girls have such terribly, terribly English accents, yah! And they’re so stiff-upper-lipped that it looks like they’ve had Botox. Daniel Craig is great in cool-calm-and-collected way but even his pout is ridiculous. Even mid-death-defying-car-chase, his pout is firmly in place.

The times when I did try to get caught up in the action and stop sniggering at everything, I couldn’t actually follow it because it’s filmed so close up that when Bond is chasing someone across a rooftop or climbing some rickety scaffolding which then collapses, you can’t actually see what’s going on. They need to zoom out a little. It’s just lots of glass smashing and gun fire, really close up.

I just felt I needed to get that out of my system. I haven’t really followed James Bond films at all and then I finally sat down and watched one and it was utterly ridiculous and I am very puzzled about why people love it so much.

And anyway, a little while ago I had a James Bond moment which was actually way more superhero than any James Bond film.

I was waiting at the train station in Liverpool, for my train back to London. It was evening time, about 7pm. I was sitting on a bench, minding my own business, when I heard a bit of a commotion. A young man, while leaving the M&S Food shop, had been stopped by some people with M&S uniforms on.

He struggled against them and started trying to pull away but the M&S people called out to a security guard standing close by, who started to run over. In the struggle, two bottles of wine fell out from under the young man’s coat and smashed on the ground. The commotion attracted some people who were working in the McDonald’s next door, who started to walk over. As the young man broke free of the M&S workers, the McDonald’s crew got hold of him and tackled him to the floor. He had struggled out of his coat in the process.

The security guard arrived, got the young man off the floor and held him tight, bringing him back to the M&S. Things calmed a little and in the chitchat with the M&S lot about what had happened, he saw his moment and broke free, running for the door.

It just so happened that the bench I was sitting on was on his route to the door. I would stop this petty thief! He needed to learn the rules of socially acceptable behaviour! And theft from a shop is incorrect behaviour! I would single-handedly teach him that he had to pay for his wine, just like everybody else.

Cue the James Bond theme tune….

Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun. Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun, dun. DUH NUH, DUH NUH NUH!

Being the quick-thinking gal that I am, I put my leg up as he ran past, to trip him up and gave an extra little kick, right on his shin, as he ran by me. Grrr. I was getting nasty. See? I’m way tougher than James Bond.

Then he dropped to the floor, gripping his leg in agony, which I’d basically broken, because of my extreme toughness and strength. I leapt up and made a Citizen’s Arrest and was later awarded numerous medals for my bravery.

O no, wait, sorry, that was me daydreaming. What actually happened was he kept running as though I hadn’t done a thing and got away.

But still…. I was very brave, don’t you think?

Some things I should admit

I have never seen Kill Bill.

I didn’t see Dirty Dancing or Grease till I was about 16.

I bunked off the last half hour of school one day to get a book signed by the first winner of Big Brother.

Often I don’t brush my hair.

When I was about ten, I saved up and bought The Smurfs Go Pop album. My favourite song on it was Mr Blobby and The Smurfs, in which Mr Blobby occasionally goes “BLOBBY!” That is his only contribution to the song.

I always used to make up little plans about running away (I had probably seen a film which made it look really fun and easy.)

I have a strange fondness for wildebeest. I just think they’re quite grand.

I loved loved LOVED the boy from Free Willy. I had a poster of him on my wall, which I used to snog.

When I was little, I named all my teddy bears and cuddly toys and gave them personalities and had a little sitcom-esque imaginary existence with them at bedtime.

It was during these night time role plays with my toys that I perfected my faux American accent.

That’s right, I have a faux American accent that I sometimes put on for fun. I think it’s ace. I can’t speak for anyone else.

I also went through a phase when I was about 17 where I spoke in an Irish accent.

I have lumpy knees.

Sometimes I find the news boring, although I know I should be fascinated and be all aware and things, but sometimes they go on and on, and I realise I’m not actually that interested. Ssshhhh, don’t tell anyone.

I don’t like Glee. I once watched an episode. It was not the best use of my time.

I also don’t like mustard.

I don’t think dogs are cute. Even small fluffy ones. They’re just dogs.

I love lists.