How long can this go on for?
This question occurred to me at some point during the third episode of Series 12 of Geordie Shore and I’ll be honest with you, distracted me from the rest of the ‘action’ and the night’s sleep I felt I deserved.
Because, let’s face it, it could go on forever.
Continue reading “Geordie Shore: Life Imitating Arse Imitating Life”
One doesn’t accidentally watch the new series of Geordie Shore.
It’s been on long enough, the exploits of the sexually incontinent (or in Charlotte Crosby’s case, literally incontinent) protagonists featured in the Daily Mail’s Sidebar of Shame frequently enough, for a plea of ignorance to be contemptuously dismissed.
You wanted this. You enjoy watching unconvincingly coiffed, fake tan smeared imbeciles binge drinking and arguing with their designated shag until someone smashes a decorative lampshade and gets bundled into a Beamer to cool off.
So do we. That’s why we’re all here.
Continue reading “Geordie Shore Oct 20: Acropolis Now”
Oh god. What fresh hell is this?
Kelly’s forays into the murky underbelly of dramality television are not new. Natasha has repeatedly articulated her concerns over her esteemed colleague’s viewing habits, but initially she trusted her, accepting in good faith her explanation that the Jersey Shore thing was justified on the basis that it was at the forefront of a cultural zeitgeist involving the liberal use of confusion-avoidance lettering against colourful backdrops.
Natasha let it go. She shouldn’t have.
Continue reading “The Valleys: Where Life Begins”
Note how the cast’s reactions to the new boys’ genitalia offer a subtle hint as to the nature of their future relationships.
Bored? Lonely? Suicidal?
We are. That’s why we watch this shite.
Continue reading “Geordie Shore: Everything Changes But You”
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