Okay so I had one more in me. Now the reason I’ve decided to come back to the blog so shortly after my last post is because it’s now 03:58am.

Another, more pressing reason is that I actually found myself getting annoyed at something and, in classic British fashion, I decided to write something strongly worded.

The reason for my annoyance was remembering a recent tropical holiday I went on. Now the trip itself was fine, a romantic holiday destination with sun, sea, sand and scuba. I won’t go into too much detail about the whole thing but it was good. But something that bugged me throughout my stay was the fact that everytime I heard a certain phrase, a few specific words arranged in a particular order, my moronic brain would instantly connect it to something ridiculous. The source of this recurring irritation?

Take Me Out.

If you haven’t seen it, at it’s core it’s a dating show. Essentially a group of women choose whether or not they want to date a singular guy. I haven’t exactly made it sound exciting but imagine lights, music and Paddy Mcguinness running around like the first kid to discover how to write boobs on a calculator. All the women, armed with lights and rudimentary dance moves, decide whether to switch on or off on the men that appear on the show until only one woman remains. It’s a bit like standing in front of a firing squad and asking if they want to see you juggle. All of this is in the hope of finding mr right. Sorry, Mr Right. He wouldn’t be too happy if I didn’t get his name.. err..  correct.

Now the thing that annoyed me about this show while I was away was this. When on an island, any island in fact, people tend to shorten that specific word. They’ll say isle instead. This usually comes from the people back home, I suspect, because they don’t want to sound either overly happy for you nor bitterly resentful. But that might just be me. For most people that doesn’t even register on the spectrum of annoyance. But if you’ve watched the show, and feel free to sing along with me if you have, when you hear the words “the isle of…” a small but increasingly obnoxious part of your brain instantly shouts out;


Seriously. This happens.

I actually blame that show for many, many things in my life. I’ve lost precious moments talking with friends about the show, mocking the people who go on or trying to come up with something hilarious to fit into Paddy’s amazing introductions. Such classics include “let the pork see the chop!” and of course the hauntingly beautiful “let the hanky see the panky!”

And I’m never going to get that time back…


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