Don’t Tell Anyone, But…

Dear readers, how have we all been this week?

We all have a guilty pleasure, don’t we? Something that goes totally against everything we love or stand for or believe in. Some people love trashy magazines, despite being well read in other areas. Some people could be total metal heads and yet adore listening to a certain famous pop artist (there are too many to possibly consider just one. Pick your least favourite and insert accordingly). For some, it’s as simple as eating Nutella straight from the jar. For the record, I have no shame eating Nutella straight from the jar.

In order for my revelation to be as… astounding, I should shed some light on the kinds of things I like. I like to watch well crafted dramas, usually historical periods or fantasy (or both). I do enjoy watching adult cartoons (no… not that kind) because they usually have some sort of a point to them underneath the cussing and ridiculous antics. When I’m sick, I like to curl up with the food channel- maybe I believe the nutrients from the television will work their way into my body. It hasn’t worked yet.

From the clues above, you can probably guess my guilty pleasure: Trash TV. But even then, only to a degree. And mostly cooking competitions.

It all started with a delightful show by Mr Ramsay- Hell’s Kitchen. I’m not even sure why I started watching it in the first place. Possibly on one of my sick days, and in my medically hazed mind, thought, “Hey. This isn’t that bad.”

I know, I know. It’s scripted to death. Mr Ramsay and the contestants are brash and are making ridiculously rookie mistakes for supposedly “trained” chefs. And it’s the same thing episode after episode. Someone can’t cook, meltdown, backstabbing, elimination.

And I can’t get enough of it.

Well, I kind of can. I moved out of Mother’s abode and suddenly didn’t have access to Hell’s Kitchen. I was a newbie to the unlimited internet scene and had a terrible laptop for the first few months, so streaming was pretty much out of the question. So when a new laptop came, well. I still didn’t look to stream though, and also whacked working hours made it a little difficult.

So, I thought I had kicked my guilty pleasure for good. No more trashy TV! How sophisticated of me.

And then Boyfie came on the scene.

Before I go on, I feel I should also point out that Australian television is terrible. Sorry, not sorry. It’s soap operas just don’t hold a candle to the UK one’s (which with cable tv, I had been able to keep up with). The shows they copied from the UK were only good to watch because everything about it was the same except for the accents. As a twelve year old, this was unacceptable. And so I dismissed and gave up on Australian TV until pretty much last year.

The transition was slow. I would go to Boyfie’s place on weekends and the NRL had just kicked off (hurhur). As Boyfie is a fan, I would spend some time watching televised matches, which inevitably came with Ads. The ads… intrigued me. Not enough to get me to start watching during the week, and anyway, I was usually working evenings so even if I had wanted to watch, I couldn’t. But Australian TV certainly seemed to have picked up it’s game.

And then, Game of Thrones started. In our house, Tuesday Night was Game of Thrones night (minus Boyfie who can’t be having with that). When it was over, someone would switch the tv from HDMI and somehow it always landed on… Masterchef.

Ladies and Gentleman and Everyone Outside The Binary, I was immediately obsessed. Did I mention that I love cooking shows when I’m not sick? Because I really do. I was aghast that I had missed half of the season and it took me a good few weeks to realise it was on five days a week! What a fool I had been! All that good food going to waste. Dreadful! I am awaiting it’s return with eager anticipation.

What I love about Masterchef is that the only drama is what the contestants do to themselves- time restrictions, missing ingredients, not turning the oven on, all that good stuff. They help each other and don’t sabotage each other in anyway. At least, not the half of the last season I watched.

And watching these shows with Boyfie is an experience in itself. He claims he doesn’t actually like the shows, he just wants to watch for the drama. Which is the point of most of thees trashy shows, right? His commentary on the contestants antics, or even the hosts comments, usually has me in stitches. For example, we’ve been watching an old season of The Great British Bake Off and one of the hosts had, on several occasions, accidentally put an elbow in someone’s pastry or dropped ingredients. The final straw was her knocking someone’s ingredients off the bench and Boyfie, who had been mostly quiet, suddenly yelled, “She needs to sit down.” We had to pause the episode, I was laughing so hard.

Now I have to say, I’m slightly hypocritical when it comes to trashy TV. The trashy TV that I like is perfectly fine. Trashy TV that others like, is not good TV and should be canned immediately. For example, The Bachelor/Bachelorette and also that absolutely asinine Married At First Sight (sanctity of marriage, anyone?) are honestly ridiculous. Also the one cooking show I will never watch is My Kitchen Rules, purely because it is so full of drama it takes the fun away.

But I do love Come Dine With Me. Which can be dramaful, but somehow, it’s just better. Fine, call me biased. I’m British!

Right now, I’m a Celebrity, Get me Out of Here! has my attention. I know who one of the celebrities are, but it still makes for good watching. I don’t have a favourite yet, which is worrying, but there are several  I like.

So, dear readers, I have confessed to you my sin of loving certain elements of trashy TV. Your turn! Leave me a comment with your guilty pleasure. This is a judgement free zone, so lets all be guilty together.

Until next week!

After many, many. many NRL matches, I too, have a team. Go Broncos!

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