Jeremy Kyle vs. Pondlife

Today I had the misfortune of watching Jeremy Kyle – you have to love daytime TV!
I used the term ‘misfortune’ because it just brings home a part of British society that I’d rather see swallowed up whole by the North Sea. On the other side I cannot fail to ‘admire’ Jeremy Kyle for putting up with this pondlife in his role of Master Chavbaiter.

It always intrigues me to think what possessed these chavs 1) to get in the right mess that they did in the first place, but more importantly 2) to talk about this mess on national TV and be exposed to the humiliation of public scorn. You can rest assured that – if one day I had to take a DNA test – I could think of at least 1,000 places to find out the result better than a TV studio.

Most guests on this show seem to have quite a few things in common: a) a total aversion to that elusive 4-syllable word – contraception; b) a rather incredible ability to switch swiftly from one partner to the next one, failing to implement the simple action described in point a) just above, hence the high frequency of said DNA tests to find out the identity of the newborn’s father; c) the disgracefully high fake jewellery per square inch of skin ratio – in fact high enough to make a passing ship lose track of the magnetic North.

Who is to blame for this fine mess? Well, the buck stops with this pondlife in my view. You don’t have to have studied at Oxbridge to know that if you don’t use contraception then you may have an unexpected (?!?!) surprise in 9 months’ time. If these chavs learnt this horrible 6-syllable word (‘responsibility’) and some of these trollops spent a bit less time with their legs firmly up in the air, then they would probably get some of my sympathy. Until then, if you are looking for some of it from me, you’d better look in the dictionary – it’s somewhere between ‘stench’ and ‘syphilis’.