Winona Ryder once said: “Dear diary, my teen angst bullshit now has a body count,” clearly she was watching Skins where, in the opening three episodes of the season, two people have been brutally butchered from the cast list. We haven’t seen one funeral.
In fact the closest we come to Richard Curtis territory is a seaside elegy and mere reference to a wedding. Obviously this is too inherently British for the residents of Bristol who are more content to wallow.
It’s all getting totes emosh up in here which is no doubt why the writers this week introduced us all to a new plucky character to reconfigure the group dynamic. He’s gay too, so that not-graphic-enough-sex-scene ticks another demographic box for the youth enveloping programme.
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You’ve had a very hard week haven’t you? That Diane in accounting asked you to do that did she? She takes you for granted so much you know. We at hecklerspray love you very much. We would never take you for granted.
What you want to do is, pour yourself a massive gin (it’s the Queen’s favourite don’t you know) and get so blitzed that you don’t know where you are until the hangover kicks in at around Monday dinner time, just in time for a Boots meal deal. That’d be a great way to spend a weekend wouldn’t it? Absolutely off your face. Imagine not knowing how you got scratches and bruises. Intense.
If that isn’t for you though, maybe you’re a bit skint, or maybe ecstasy is your one true passion? Then we have the second best thing to do this weekend, and that’s watch all these brilliant TV shows and talk to us about them. A human conversation with someone. How avant garde.
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It’s a brand new week, scum buckets, and to start the downward decline is a brand spanking new episode of Skins and boy oh boy is it miserable this time around! Are you lucky?
First, let’s get real for a moment folks. This is the second episode, so they have to bring out the big guns now that everyone’s back in boring old Bristol and not some country that bristles with sexual heat, so of course, the writers needed to make an episode that tackles the burning issues—as long as something is hotter than fire we’re all happy right?
Of course there were parties and of course there was sex there was even some minimal drug use, but who isn’t rocking a casual line of coke these days. Where was the hard liquor though? We all remember the days when a bottle of vodka lasted for one quick swig, but now it seems everything’s a little too melancholy for anything stronger than a can of lager. It’s so down in the dumps this week that Phil Collins made the soundtrack when not even rain was in the air. These writers need to get their shit together and go on a rollercoaster or something.
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Any child of the nineties will remember not wanting to go to school. Not because the education system was as messed up as Chloe Sims’ face, or because of the taunts of the three stripe-clad knuckle-draggers who marked themselves as the school’s social elite.
It was because they wanted nothing more than to watch The Big Breakfast.
The alternative breakfast show has been hosted by pretty much everyone on television, but really came into its own with Johnny Vaughan and Denise Van Outen at the helm. It was brash, bright and loud: just what a child wants instead of stupid Maths and History. Tell the truth, where has Maths or History ever got you that knowing how to sing the ‘Vital Statistics’ song hasn’t? Nowhere, that’s where.
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Ka-loo ka-lay everyone! It’s almost the end of the week, and just like Lenny Henry tells us on those awful hotel adverts, it’s almost time for the weekend. And what’s a weekend all about? Going out, getting trashed and generally being like those pesky kids from Skins, sitting around in your pants as much as you can in 48 hours.
It’s what sets us aside from the animals y’know. They can’t figure out the little hole bit for willies.
It’d be remiss, and frankly irresponsible of us, as your favourite website of all time ever in the history of Google, to not keep you occupied between your next bottle of something fizzy or yeasty. It’d be like the 1994 film, Baby’s Day Out. You clearly can’t be left to your own devices can you? Sometimes, just sometimes, you actually make us sorry to know you.
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It’s soap spoiling time again you lucky people! Once again we’ve been held at gunpoint and forced to write stuff about something we’d only care less about if we were dead. Want to know what exciting things happen in Hollyoaks this week? Tough. We didn’t include them.
As usual we’re off to Eastenders first and before we give you this weeks predictable spoilers, we’d like to jump up and down topless in appreciation of Kim, who’s near death rubbish pile romance scene with Ray was our highlight of last week.
This week Ben’s hilarious plan to get his dad arrested has finally worked. Yes Phil Mitchell has been charged with the murder of Stella in a plot so drawn-out we had to look on YouTube to remember what actually happened. We’re still not sure. However, the smug grin is soon wiped off his face when Shirley throws him out and he’s forced to go and live with Ian Beale and as you all know, when you move in with Ian you have to marry him – it’s Eastenders law.
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Life is hard for many people for much of the time. But we all deal with it in different ways. Some people take solace in religion; placing their happiness in never seeing a ghost. They’d rather have a piece of toast and watch the evening news. Those people are idiots and mediocre ’90s pop stars.
Some people turn to alcohol or narcotics, like many a disgraced celebrity or role model. Would it surprise you to hear that a member of the hecklerspray bedsit likes to drink a bath of gin before singing the chorus from ‘I Know Him So Well’ from the musical Chess? Would it surprise you that it’s Matthew Laidlow?
Whereas some people get happy by watching television and seeing that no matter how hard life can be; unemployment is at record high, there’s cruise liners capsizing and you’ll never be good enough for your partner, but no matter how hard life can be, you’ll still be better than the people you’ll see on TV. Fat Pat carking it? You’re better than her. Not sure which of 12 potential men is the father of your child? You’re better than her. Women chef overcooked her souffles and is now having a massive breakdown? You’re better than her as well.
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If you’re under the age of 22 then you will be familiar with the Daily Mail’s nemesis; common sense. Whoops! That should read Skins. If you’re living like the characters in the show, then you’re probably dead and we offer our sincerest sympathies; we died around the same time as Tony who was paralysed by youthful happiness and, you know, a bus.
If you’re lucky enough to be a child now, then we can blame you for the continued success of what is shaping up to be a life affirming/sucking programme.
Either way you will all be suitably disappointed to find out that a new series is going to be cuming (see what we did there?) to E4 on Monday. There are mere days to prepare yourself. Here in the ‘spray bedsit we like to think of Skins as a disease and as you know, with diseases, you must inoculate yourself with small doses to become immune. Based on that logic and no small amount of self-loathing we subjected, or watched, the two ‘webisodes’ on that thing some of you are calling The Internet. It’s a sharp learning curve for us all.
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