Now I've heard there was a secret chord,
That David played, and it pleased the Lord,
But you don't really care for music, do you?
That David played, and it pleased the Lord,
But you don't really care for music, do you?
In my ongoing attempt to become the stupidest person on the planet, I watched part of another episode of the flamboyant abomination that is Gok Wan. In a latest ratings-grabbing idea, Gok forsakes his apparently outdated hordes of naked fatties and turns his attention to - wait for it - disabled people! Yes, people in wheelchairs and with missing limbs are the new focus of dross telly.
Now, you might say "Max, lots of people probably watched that programme. It wasn't that bad - it raised awareness and suppressed prejudices. It was actually a bold, eye-opening and interesting insight into modern fashion".
I would then reply, after a hearty laugh at your childlike innocence, "Oh, my child. Do shut up."
It's all about the confidence, apparently.
I've never really been into crappy fashion shows, least of all the ones headed by Gok Wan. If he ever tried that stuff in China, country of his heritage, he'd probably disappear and never be heard from again within the week. (Gok, take note: potential career move in China?) I would probably never have watched it, but my housemates were watching and it felt right, lest I become a reclusive wanker.
The programme culminated in our wheelchair bound leading lady appearing bollock naked on Gok's famous catwalk in a shopping centre somewhere. I had to laugh at the inevitable trauma that will surely catch up with the woman's 10 year old son standing in the crowd, watching his naked mother. I wonder what Freud would make of that.
Now, you might say "Max, lots of people probably watched that programme. It wasn't that bad - it raised awareness and suppressed prejudices. It was actually a bold, eye-opening and interesting insight into modern fashion".
I would then reply, after a hearty laugh at your childlike innocence, "Oh, my child. Do shut up."
It's all about the confidence, apparently.I've never really been into crappy fashion shows, least of all the ones headed by Gok Wan. If he ever tried that stuff in China, country of his heritage, he'd probably disappear and never be heard from again within the week. (Gok, take note: potential career move in China?) I would probably never have watched it, but my housemates were watching and it felt right, lest I become a reclusive wanker.
The programme culminated in our wheelchair bound leading lady appearing bollock naked on Gok's famous catwalk in a shopping centre somewhere. I had to laugh at the inevitable trauma that will surely catch up with the woman's 10 year old son standing in the crowd, watching his naked mother. I wonder what Freud would make of that.
