Thursday, April 7, 2011

no men were harmed in the making of this post

Okay, I’m back.

And thank you anon, for your concern. But no I’m not dead.

So on to more interesting matters. Like my morbid attachment to reality shows. In fact the worse they are, the more I’m addicted to them.

And my deep insightful research has thrown up some interesting things. Like how, at the moment, they all seem rather preoccupied with the male genitals. No, make that preoccupied with causing damage to the male genitals.

Take vela boys. Where they have three guys, in their early twenties dressed in school uniforms. They each stand facing a line of giggling school boys of around six. When the anchor hysterically blows his whistle, a giggling school boy flies at one of the boys and kicks him hard in the groin. The guy lets out a muffled “oiteri”, jumps two feet in the air, doubles up in pain and then stands manfully, awaiting the next kick.

This continues till it looks like their eyes will pop and they will most certainly need the services of an ambulance if not undertaker.

Of course the little kids are slowing warming up to the task and throwing themselves into it with well aimed kicks and little shrieks of joy.

Oddly entertaining it is.

Then there is Roadies. Where they subjected the boys to a Brazilian wax. Worse, the Brazilian wax was performed on them while they were standing. Imagine, legs apart, can’t see shit because your head is sticking out of a little wooden hole. And suddenly you feel a knife with hot wax start to slide around your inner thigh.

Oh yeah, pardon me while I throw up my dinner. And faint in front of the TV now.