Yes, it's Monday night, soap time! Sorry the 'tainment has been on the quiet side, I'm in the process of moving house, so blogging has been replaced by calling up the council tax people, cleaning the oven and deciding which shoes to throw out. OK, I haven't really cleaned the oven. But I bought some oven cleaner!
TV has been pretty ropey anyway; I feel like the schedulers have forgotten about us; no good documentaries, no decent entertainment. American Idol has been too wishy washy this year, I can't get a handle on who I really like. I watched Dawn Porter's My Breasts Could Kill Me, but it was one of her weaker documentaries, unnecessarily dragged out over two shows, and consisting mainly of her going 'oh I'm really scared!' Zzzz. (you did get to see her boobs though, and they were pretty impressive).
The only programme I've been really getting off on is Celebrity Rehab! Dr Drew is my new idol. Download it! It's Big Brother, but with drug addict celebrities. What more do you want?
Anyway. SOAPS. Corrie has been quite good lately, what with Simon absconding from Blackpool (who could blame him?) Peter Barlow should kick that granddad's arse. I've never thought much of Leanne as a character but she's been quite good lately. Her sad but trying to be brave acting was quite good. Ken should never have let George take that child in the first place!
Jason with his top off! Gratuitous.
I've noticed Tina has looked less orange that usual since she's been grieving, it suits her. She's lost a lot of her chutzpah as a character in recent months though. I preferred her with David.
Gail looks like a Cluedo piece in that roll-neck. Gail on the boat with the puffa jacket. Deadly!
I do fancy Nicky Platt #2 a bit though; even though he's not just as good as Madame Rickett, I have a soft spot for him from when he was in Footballers Wives. I kind of like a jug-eared man from time to time, it's a bit sexy.
Mentions of Ton-eh! Aww I miss Ton-eh. Can't he come back? Acquit him! We need his googly eyed charms. He was ten times sexier than Nicky Platt #1 or #2.
Is Klever Kitchens going to have The Smiths played again as he's sent off into the furnace? He looked like a used car salesman in that photo atop the coffin.
I noticed John Partridge (aka Christian from Enders) slating Sean from Corrie the other day for being a 'tea time gay' (I think that means a gay who doesn't have sex). When DID they make Sean's character so wholly unlikeable? I used to really like his character but now all he seems to do is rubbish one-liners. He's got less depth than Kelly Crabtree.
Rita's back! Oh.
Ooh Kevin was horrible to Molly! Have that baby and leave it on his doorstep. That'll teach him.
Janice is back in her horse fleece! Horse fleece! Horse fleece! I swear she didn't wear it for about three years and now it's back. It was probably preserved in a museum; and rightly so.
Aw I just sobbed my socks off when Simon turned up! I want a Simon. And I hate children!
I'm glad Tina interrupted Gail's speech, it sounded dire. Elephant in the room indeed! That funeral ended a bit like I'd expect one of my own family funerals to end; with a virtual punch-up and someone shouting 'you're a family of freaks!'
Eastenders, on the other hand, has been dire. Somehow they managed to fluke a fairly decent live episode (except for Jack Branning bleating something about 'the public' by accident- projecting much?) but since then it's been dire; Max's search for Bradley's shoes, the return of Carol (and her puffa jacket- looks a bit like Gail's actually) and (god help us) the grime night. Even Dizzy gave that schtick up around 2002. Also, it feels like it's been snowing for about three weeks. Continuity fail.
Roxy's staff can't come in because of the snow? What, can't Chelsea walk 15 foot across the square? 85% of her staff live UPSTAIRS.
As for enfant dullard Danny Mitchell; what is the point? Take your 90s haircut and piss off to Hollyoaks.
Oh god and I forgot about Billy's 'friends' from Balham; some more well-rounded, 3-dimensional black characters from the Eastenders storyboard. INNIT.
Sorry I fell asleep there at the 'Ian's dirty washing' storyline. As for Lucy Beale's pregnancy; I couldn't give two shits. Where is Syed? Where is Christian? Why can't we just have a two-hander with them in?
God, now the 'gardening' storyline. This is interminable!
Ah, Corrie again. Suddenly Kevin wants to see Molly! Is it any wonder women use babies as currency in sex wars; they make good currency. They're a good bartering tool.
Peter vs George! Fight! Fight! Fight! Peter dealt with him quite nicely. It was more than he deserved. Not much to chew on in that second episode, really.
KEVIN. Change your jacket! Molly. Abort. Goodnight.
Showing posts with label Dawn porter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dawn porter. Show all posts
Monday, 15 March 2010
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
Documentary- Dawn Porter: Geisha Girl
What does Geisha involve? Dressing up, serving, sex? It sounds like the usual story for the female of the species. Dawn looked as good as you'd expect in a kimono. The whole kneeling thing was kind of boring though and the domestic chores! I thought it was meant to be naughty. Instead it seemed a bit like a cult.
It was interesting how geisha is seen as an 'art' and involved a lot of discipline, but at the same time, they are like very conservative strippers or lapdancers. It seemed a strange dichotomy. It takes three hours to put all the make-up and clothes on! Christ! It really is bondage, isn't it, literally. When Dawn was properly trussed up, her sexuality was actually hidden. She looked kind of frumpy, not sexy. She did look enormous compared to the Japanese girls, too!
I liked it when she got all angry and stressed and claustrophobic, as I constantly feel like that.
I can't believe that stupid pillow she had to sleep on so she didn't ruin her hairdo. That was like torture equipment.
So it turns out the geishas never sleep with men. I'm not surprised seeing the effort it took to get into those outfits! I love the strange meticulousness of Japanese culture. The tiny little drinks. I love the aesthetics of the cardboard houses. But it's just all so rigid. I'd want to huff and puff and blow the house down too.
Why can't the men suffer for the pleasure of women for once? Can you imagine men spending three hours getting ready, squeezing their feet into too-small shoes and slapping on that much make up? Well, I can. But they aren't the sort that are interested in me, so there goes that idea.
It was interesting how geisha is seen as an 'art' and involved a lot of discipline, but at the same time, they are like very conservative strippers or lapdancers. It seemed a strange dichotomy. It takes three hours to put all the make-up and clothes on! Christ! It really is bondage, isn't it, literally. When Dawn was properly trussed up, her sexuality was actually hidden. She looked kind of frumpy, not sexy. She did look enormous compared to the Japanese girls, too!
I liked it when she got all angry and stressed and claustrophobic, as I constantly feel like that.
I can't believe that stupid pillow she had to sleep on so she didn't ruin her hairdo. That was like torture equipment.
So it turns out the geishas never sleep with men. I'm not surprised seeing the effort it took to get into those outfits! I love the strange meticulousness of Japanese culture. The tiny little drinks. I love the aesthetics of the cardboard houses. But it's just all so rigid. I'd want to huff and puff and blow the house down too.
Why can't the men suffer for the pleasure of women for once? Can you imagine men spending three hours getting ready, squeezing their feet into too-small shoes and slapping on that much make up? Well, I can. But they aren't the sort that are interested in me, so there goes that idea.
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Documentary- Dawn Porter: Mail Order Bride
This week Dawn went to Russia to investigate a ‘mail-order bride event’. So can you ‘buy’ a wife easily? I think some people can and do. But this event seemed very dodgy from the start; in fact I’m amazed they even let them film it, it was so badly run.
The ‘high-calibre men, doctors, lawyers’ promised turned out to be various dysfunctional Americans, ranging from ordinary looking to comedy moustaches and possible third-degree burns. Fine, if they were what they said on the tin, but the majority of them (i.e. all but one) seemed anything but.
One in particular seemed particularly vile, so Dawn did a bit of digging around on their backgrounds and discovered several had various convictions (including for assault).
Third-degree-burns dude basically said he’d been wrongly convicted of assault, and then muddied the waters quite worryingly by saying, ‘Imagine if every time you hit or slapped someone you got accused of assault.’ Er- that IS assault.
Also anything but what was promised was the agency itself. None of the girls were interested in the men, but instead came for the free food, and the manager’s scruples were somewhat shaky. Dawn asked about the men’s credentials/ criminal records, and the woman replied, ‘These are educated men, they know how to use the internet.’ When Dawn protested that the ability to click a mouse didn’t equal brains or morals, the woman said ‘there is a direct correlation between men who can use the internet and them not being violent.’ Tell that to a million abused children and battered wives. Dawn did go a little Louis Theroux at this point, but that was about as far as the challenge went.
The bizarre last part of the show surrounded Third-degree-burns guy telling Dawn she fancied him (not likely, mate) and berating a pretty Russian woman over dinner for daring to have talked to another man at the introduction party. Wasn’t that the point?!
And what was with that Christian guy handing out Jelly Beans with Bible quotes sellotaped on? It’s not my idea of a come-on, but hey, I’ll take the sweets.
All in all not as good as last weeks but still a zillion times better than anything Dave Gorman has ever put his name to. Dawn rocks.
The ‘high-calibre men, doctors, lawyers’ promised turned out to be various dysfunctional Americans, ranging from ordinary looking to comedy moustaches and possible third-degree burns. Fine, if they were what they said on the tin, but the majority of them (i.e. all but one) seemed anything but.
One in particular seemed particularly vile, so Dawn did a bit of digging around on their backgrounds and discovered several had various convictions (including for assault).
Third-degree-burns dude basically said he’d been wrongly convicted of assault, and then muddied the waters quite worryingly by saying, ‘Imagine if every time you hit or slapped someone you got accused of assault.’ Er- that IS assault.
Also anything but what was promised was the agency itself. None of the girls were interested in the men, but instead came for the free food, and the manager’s scruples were somewhat shaky. Dawn asked about the men’s credentials/ criminal records, and the woman replied, ‘These are educated men, they know how to use the internet.’ When Dawn protested that the ability to click a mouse didn’t equal brains or morals, the woman said ‘there is a direct correlation between men who can use the internet and them not being violent.’ Tell that to a million abused children and battered wives. Dawn did go a little Louis Theroux at this point, but that was about as far as the challenge went.
The bizarre last part of the show surrounded Third-degree-burns guy telling Dawn she fancied him (not likely, mate) and berating a pretty Russian woman over dinner for daring to have talked to another man at the introduction party. Wasn’t that the point?!
And what was with that Christian guy handing out Jelly Beans with Bible quotes sellotaped on? It’s not my idea of a come-on, but hey, I’ll take the sweets.
All in all not as good as last weeks but still a zillion times better than anything Dave Gorman has ever put his name to. Dawn rocks.
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
Documentary- Dawn Porter: Free Lover
I started watching the documentary ‘Dawn Porter: Free Lover’ with a number of misconceptions. I put it on as a bit of fluff in the background, recognising her vaguely from Balls of Steel (a pretty awful programme, I’m sure you’ll agree). I thought, ‘Ah, here’s a poor man’s Daisy Donovan.’ And a poor man’s Daisy Donovan is very poor indeed.
Not so! I can’t stand Daisy Donovan, finding her an un-heady mix of dull and chronically unfunny. Dawn Porter, as it turned out, was quite lovely. Cute, sarcastic but nice, and most of all, brave.
She went to investigate polyamory, first in the US and then Germany (where else?) These weren’t people who had five or six wives, but just people who liked to share their love (i.e. shag around). All the men had ponytails.
In the US there was rather too much emphasis on ‘spiritual healing’ and dumb roleplay (and not of the dressing up like a nurse kind) for my liking. Still, Dawn threw herself in with aplomb, and came across charming, funny and very likeable.
In Germany they lived commune-style (like in a cult but without God, paedophilia and the expectation to commit suicide at the end of it). Dawn got under the surface of the place almost by accident and found out- what do you know?- that jealousy ran rife through the compound. It didn’t surprise me in the slightest that there was a price to pay for all that endless shagging. Still the lure of three cocks or fannies on the go made the Germans stick around, endlessly seething that their partners were getting it off someone else.
So far, so predictable really; but Dawn herself really made the show something to talk about in the end by doing something I think Louis Theroux would have balked at. You always think you know where the line is in these kind of shows; i.e. Dawn was probably not going to join the sex cult and take on a few lovers herself. But about halfway through the show I thought, ‘hold on’ when she sat in the hot tub (what is it with sex and hot tubs?) with a bunch of them with her top off.
Then one of the German’s told her about the ‘oil party’ when they all pile into the basement (literally) and get covered in oil. He said something along the lines of ‘you end up not knowing who or what you’re touching, and we just become one mass.’
To my great surprise, Dawn decided to take part in it. And it really was a revelation; it looked very sexy somehow, and God knows how, because these Germans were not too pretty. They must have thought Christmas had come early when Dawn rolled up. There was no actual sex or penetration, but they basically poured oil on each other and themselves very slowly (I think someone was chanting or reading something too, it wasn’t like a foam party exactly) and then gradually they started to touch each other and it looked all slidey and arty and peculiarly horny. It did seem to challenge the very question of sexuality as these people writhed together not knowing who they were touching but getting off on it anyway. It also looked very cool.
Afterwards Dawn looked in a state of shock but buzzing as she told how some woman felt her crotch and she took it with good grace. I thought she was incredibly brave to have gone ahead with that; especially when documentaries of this sort are often so keen to stitch the participants up, or treat them with contempt. These people have invited you into their home, the least you can do is get naked and oily with them! Ha.
Is Dawn the new Louis Theroux? No. Would Louis have got stuck into the oil party? No. Therefore, Dawn wins.
I will be watching this again next week!
Not so! I can’t stand Daisy Donovan, finding her an un-heady mix of dull and chronically unfunny. Dawn Porter, as it turned out, was quite lovely. Cute, sarcastic but nice, and most of all, brave.
She went to investigate polyamory, first in the US and then Germany (where else?) These weren’t people who had five or six wives, but just people who liked to share their love (i.e. shag around). All the men had ponytails.
In the US there was rather too much emphasis on ‘spiritual healing’ and dumb roleplay (and not of the dressing up like a nurse kind) for my liking. Still, Dawn threw herself in with aplomb, and came across charming, funny and very likeable.
In Germany they lived commune-style (like in a cult but without God, paedophilia and the expectation to commit suicide at the end of it). Dawn got under the surface of the place almost by accident and found out- what do you know?- that jealousy ran rife through the compound. It didn’t surprise me in the slightest that there was a price to pay for all that endless shagging. Still the lure of three cocks or fannies on the go made the Germans stick around, endlessly seething that their partners were getting it off someone else.
So far, so predictable really; but Dawn herself really made the show something to talk about in the end by doing something I think Louis Theroux would have balked at. You always think you know where the line is in these kind of shows; i.e. Dawn was probably not going to join the sex cult and take on a few lovers herself. But about halfway through the show I thought, ‘hold on’ when she sat in the hot tub (what is it with sex and hot tubs?) with a bunch of them with her top off.
Then one of the German’s told her about the ‘oil party’ when they all pile into the basement (literally) and get covered in oil. He said something along the lines of ‘you end up not knowing who or what you’re touching, and we just become one mass.’
To my great surprise, Dawn decided to take part in it. And it really was a revelation; it looked very sexy somehow, and God knows how, because these Germans were not too pretty. They must have thought Christmas had come early when Dawn rolled up. There was no actual sex or penetration, but they basically poured oil on each other and themselves very slowly (I think someone was chanting or reading something too, it wasn’t like a foam party exactly) and then gradually they started to touch each other and it looked all slidey and arty and peculiarly horny. It did seem to challenge the very question of sexuality as these people writhed together not knowing who they were touching but getting off on it anyway. It also looked very cool.
Afterwards Dawn looked in a state of shock but buzzing as she told how some woman felt her crotch and she took it with good grace. I thought she was incredibly brave to have gone ahead with that; especially when documentaries of this sort are often so keen to stitch the participants up, or treat them with contempt. These people have invited you into their home, the least you can do is get naked and oily with them! Ha.
Is Dawn the new Louis Theroux? No. Would Louis have got stuck into the oil party? No. Therefore, Dawn wins.
I will be watching this again next week!
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