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Crap in the garret

 

Sorry for not returning sooner guys, my unicorn breeders licence came through, and I’ve been busy trying to find an outlet that supplies invisible hay.  It’s alright though, I found a place now, I also picked up a bucket of blue steam, some sparks for my angle grinder, and a tin of tartan paint to do the stables up with.

Okay, this post has been along time coming.  I’ve watch many episodes of this particular  BBC programme, (largely to hurl abuse at it) just to make sure I’ve got the measure of the sickly and bleedin’ obvious ‘Lassie come home’ feel in the shows format.  I’ve never heard so many cliches in one single half hour slot – 43 seems to be the average, but don’t quote me on that.  See, I’ve started doing it now!  I’m talking, of course, about the inane daytime offering called, ‘Cash in the Attic.  Possibly the most nauseating pile of shite you could ever wish to view…

There are a number of presenters from week to week, and a few antique specialists as well.  The premise of the show is to rifle around a punters house, find some old tat, and then flog it at an auction to raise cash for a much needed project.  And to begin with, the programme does have some endearing qualities.  However, this changes after some half a dozen episodes.  You become agitated by the ‘plumy’ repetitious BBC banter, and by cliche 17, you begin shouting expletives at the screen.  Well, that’s the back story, but here’s what it’s really all about…

In the beginning, riff raff would call in to the show saying they wanted to raise £20 to buy some skunk or muster up some wedge for a neighbours colostomy bag.  Some wanted some cash for a charity or to sponsor a dwarf, and somehow, the programme just ambled along with one show a week.  Now it’s on at five times a week, but the participants have been screened more thoroughly so they fit into a more refined BBC mold.  

In short, the scripting has become a telegraphed affair from the days when the BBC first began broadcasting.   And Jenny Bond and Angela Rippon reinforce this style.   So, we’ve gone from Herberts from Worksop, living in a caravan, hoping to raise money for a day out on a bus, to the last show I watched.  My, how things have changed!

The latest ‘average’ working class couple lived in a 32 room mansion, which sat in a 180 acres of land!   The antique expert, wait for it… wait for it… JONTY HERNDON couldn’t wait to get in side to have a rummage.  [Note: the programme may be called, Cash in the Attic but so far, I’ve never witnessed the shows team enter a loft!]

Anyway, as you might imagine, the tat around the house was a tad more exspensive than your average Joe’s tat.  “Let’s go down to the palatial wine cellar,” Jonty pipes up, with a look of masterbatery glee in his eyes.  I kid you not, you could have performed a three point turn in a Morris Minor in it.  And what did find, neatly arranged so the camera could spot them on the opening shot?  About 50 siver candle holders totalling a knock-down rock-bottom estimate of 800 quid!  By find two the couple already had the folding money they needed for their most important project.  And what did the money-loving couple want the EXTRA £1,600 for, as they obviously hadn’t got enough in their bank accounts?  They wanted to buy a pony for their 16 month old child!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Words fail me…

Come on BBC, keep it real…  Yours, The Spaz form Alcatraz.  (Mrs)

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