Youíve had a very hard week havenít 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 (itís the Queenís favourite donít you know) and get so blitzed that you donít know where you are until the hangover kicks in at around Monday dinner time, just in time for a Boots meal deal. Thatíd be a great way to spend a weekend wouldnít it? Absolutely off your face. Imagine not knowing how you got scratches and bruises. Intense.
If that isnít for you though, maybe youíre a bit skint, or maybe ecstasy is your one true passion? Then we have the second best thing to do this weekend, and thatís watch all these brilliant TV shows and talk to us about them. A human conversation with someone. How avant garde.
The Making Of Elton John: Madman Across The Water, BBC Four, 10:00pm
When Elton John isnít dissing Madonna, or starring in Pepsi adverts for the Super Bowl, he claims heís got a music career. Although we havenít seen much of that since he duped Justin Timberlake to play him in the video for ĎThis Train Donít Stop There Anymore,í itís impossible to claim that he hasnít had a major part of our musical heritage. From the bizarre jumpsuits and glasses, to the less bizarre outfits but more elaborate career choices, the man from Middlesex, has lived a varied and, not all together uninteresting life.
This documentary looks at the early Eltonís childhood, his apprenticeship at DJM Records and his eventual raise to supermegastardom. Bernie Taupin (Eltonís bezzie) and Leon Russell, his American BFF, blow smoke up his ass for our pleasure.
Here is Elton singing one of the greatest songs ever recorded ever with some Muppets
Toughest Place To Be A Bin Man, BBC2, 9:00pm
We all complain about our jobs at some point; whether it be delivering stinky babies from stinky lady holes, or being a PA to a demanding, misogynistic numpty, but have you thought about what itís like emptying your bins for a living? Itíll be grim. Imagine the stuff that heís seen. Never mind paparazzi going through your rubbish, its the bin men that you should be wary of.
Well this new BBC series, that pits our bin men against extreme bin men (that we hope will be flipping off wheelie bins and various other parkour stunts) takes us to one of the fastest growing cities in the World. Not the cultural bacteria between Sarah Fergusonís toes when they gain sentience, but Jakarta, in Indonesia. With a population that easy passes 30 million, imagine the huge undertaking cleaning up their Dominos boxes and used tissues.
Wilbur Ramirez, our contestant in the Rubbish Olympics, travels to the land that squalor and poverty forgot to see how Imam, one of thousands of semi-destitute bin men who keep the streets of Jakarta that little bit less disgusting.
Donít watch with your tea.
Harry Hillís TV Burp, ITV1, Whenever it’s on
We could blather on about how this series is the final series of one of the greatest primetime comedies for decades, or how Saturday night will probably never be the same once Dom Joly takes over and makes what is essentially Beadleís About, or even how we will never marry make a honest woman of the Knitted Character, but instead of wasting your time, weíll just leave you with this.
Look at Will. I. Amís stupid glasses. This isnít Tron sillyhead.
Take Me Out, ITV1, 7:45pm
Let the girl with the daddy issues see the abusive womaniser!†This week sees three more struggling actors put aside any self worth and throw themselves at the mercy of 30 single women.
Trying to sum up with Take Me Out is so jaw achingly bad its like trying to keep up with a perpetual motion machine. Just as you react to one ball-bustingly bad bit the next one is veering towards you like Halle Berry speeding away from a traffic accident. Itís impossible to fully comprehend how disgusting Take Me Out will make you feel, but, if on the off chance you havenít had enough and want to hate yourself a little bit more, then Mark Wright and some dafty present the deformed conjoined twin show. Do not say we didnít warn you. If we could put a TV show in biohazard containment, it would be this.
True Blood, FX, 10:00pm
The new series of True Blood is finally upon us, forcing itís way on top of us like weíd imagine Dracula would do after watching Michael Roux Jr. cooking a steak barely rare (his accent is so sexy). Picking up a year after the end of Series Three concluded, and examining how Russell Edgingtonís rampage has affected the already tense relationship between the mortals and vampires in Bon Temps.
Truth be told, weíre not sure that anyone watches True Blood for the story, and instead they use the 70 minutes to perv over Alexander Skarsgard, Sam Trammell and Ryan Kwanten. Which is bound to be plentiful, so get practicing those finger kegel exercises ladies, youíve only got until Sunday.
Queens of British Pop, BBC2, 7:00pm
Who here likes pop music? Pop music could be one of the most important mediums in a modern culture, after all, imagine how boring Twitter would be if we didnít have Jessie J or Lana Del Ray to vent our anonymous spleens about? Heck, the hecklerspray bedsit would be a more dilapidated hovel than it already is. And we already cook our beans over the exposed innards of our stolen TV.
Well gay men, feminists and musos rejoice! Thereís a new show focusing, not on the sometimes antiquated and definitely over-worked subject of the influence men have had on pop music (even last week there was a whole night dedicated to Paul McCartney, with not a peep about Mari Wilson), but on women, and what women have done to the modern face of music. Exciting news, right?
The first show focuses solely on the 60s and 70s, with the archetypal female singers that every act over the past two decades has tried to emulate. Dusty Springfield, Sandie Shaw (see last weekís WATCH THIS! for our sole piece of Sandie Shaw trivia), Suzi Quatro and Kate Bush take centre stage with human leatherette three piece, Tom Jones, the only man to make drain pipes sexy, Jarvis Cocker and Henry ďEyyyyy!Ē Winkler jabber like drunken monkeys about what filth Marianne Faithfull got up to.
Join us here again next week, as weíll still be probably singing ĎWuthering Heightsí and backcombing what hair we have left, and will need someone to put us to bed and pop a bucket next to us. Just in case.