Sunday, August 8, 2010

Fancy a chat about ballsacks?

Last night I came home from work and collapsed on the couch like my legs were made of rubber. All I wanted was to watch something good while waiting to snatch the computer away from my husband. I got more than I bargained for.

I was flipping through the channels, slippers on feet, (yes in summer, stop with the judging), remote in hand. I wasn't in the mood for news, cartoons, bad French action shows or any if the other pointless crap that passes for T.V. over here, and eventually found my way to Canal+.

I only wanted to see something different. What I got, was a documentary about erectile dysfunction by a very odd bloke from London who looked exactly like Kurt Cobain.

Yes, you read that right, he looked JUST like Kurt.

I think most people would have turned the channel, but not me. Damn curiosity. It didn't just kill the cat, it danced on its grave while wearing its fur as a hat.

This poor, lost soul goes on a trip through memory lane trying to learn what went wrong in his relationships. During his voyage, all his ex's laughed at him, belittled his ability to "perform" and generally made him look like a jackass. The film seemed to be loaded with "Oh, we'll blur it out" moments that always ended with a screen-full of cock.

There was nary a blur to be found, which left you feeling like, "HEY?! WTF? No blurrr?? oooh god. There. Right there. I'm blind. Where was the strategically placed tea-pot? It's London?! I know they drink earl grey or whatever over there, you can't give me a damn tea pot spout?" Yet, you can't turn the channel lol. Someone explain that to me? Needless to say, I thought it was hilarious by the 3rd time. Yes, yes. You'll blur, you say... I'll just look out the window until you're finished flashing your unmentionables.

Naturally, my husband walks in as the documenter was getting his bits and pieces whipped with a riding crop in a slightly wrinkled Irish woman's home-made dungeon. (DIY dungeon's are wanting in ambiance, by the by. It looked like... a closet that vomited velvet and then decided it was depressed.) But I digress. What do you say in that situation? "Hi honey. Yes. Just umm... watching a... documentary. No big. Want to have an early dinner?" Hubs didn't stay to watch, who can blame him lol.

Obvi, it was amusing to see the grunge-idol clone squeak "bloody hell"'s, but I eventually abandoned my show because I'm a True Blood addict. I have to watch "my stories", so Kurt's venture into S&M was going to have to wait.

I never did see the end, but it got me to thinking. It's funny how accustomed I've become to nudity on T.V. in France. I grudgingly admit that it used to shock me. I mean, it was so rare. Side-boobage was standard, nipples were like "oh wow, that's risky", but how often do you see an hour's worth of male full-frontal? (Outside of porn, get your minds out of the gutter.) It's not exactly common place.

So... French T.V., I commend you on your open-screened-ness. Way to break the masculine-nudity barrier! (Even if I didn't care to watch after the unfortunate DIYD experience.)

1 comment:

  1. yeah, i don't think twice about nudies on TV anymore. Although when i was in Canada last year we were flipping channels in the condo where we were staying and I got the most extreme nudity shot ever. there was a shot of a camera view from insde a vadge that was in the course of, well, having intercourse...and so you just had this huge screen of a penis continually moving backwards and forward towards the screen until the "money shot." We couldn't turn the channel either....apparently it was some documentary on sex not some kinky porn thing. but it was in the middle of the day - def not what i expect to find flipping channels!

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