Tina has just found out that her ridiculously camp husband Raymond, is gay. Her child-minder, Granny Murray, told her one night while she was fucked out of her head on special brew behind the bus garage. At first, Tina didn't believe Granny Murray - she and Raymond have a daughter together, after all, but Granny Murray showed her a photo of Raymond cottaging in the park and Tina's world shattered.
Jezza tells it straight. I know the guests often have heart breaking stories, webs of lies or just a pure barrel of filth, but sometimes you need to hear it straight. It can help you reflect in your own personal problems and give yourself a good talking to.
I then started thinking about all of the things that trouble me about my child, all of the niggling worries that I have about his development, his health and well being. I realised that I'm worrying over absolutely NOTHING. My fears are simply outrageous.
Thus far the 'No' campaign has been rather more Jeremy Kyle than Made in Chelsea. It has been so shamelessly threatening that at times I have wondered if it is part of a covert plot to drive Scotland away. As we have got closer to the September vote, the arguments against independence have got more desperate and apocalyptic.
In the real world we probably know that Jeremy Kyle isn't any more "moral" than us because he allegedly stole from his ex-wife to fund a destructive gambling habit and met his current wife after she "won" a competition on his radio station to marry a complete stranger. But hey, all that was before he was canonised by ITV to referee human bear baiting - so that's all right then.
You will not see a face like mine on Jeremy Kyle's show even if you need one. The same as I never saw a face like mine on Jeremy Kyle's show when I desperately needed it. His platform will continue to ignore the real faces of female alcoholism.
As our television screens and newspapers were filled this week with endless images of Kim Jong-un and Mick Philpott, I wasn't worrying about threats posed by North Korea or narcissistic killers. I was wishing more people read Theodor Adorno.
It was said by the prosecution in the trial of Mick and Mairead Philpott that they had started the fire at 18 Victory Road in order to "frame" his mis...
Sit down. Shut up. Watch the film. Whittled to a more brand-friendly tagline by the copywriters at Orange Wednesdays, and looped into the internal monologues of every banter-adjacent punter in the cinema, this is a code by which one should always comport oneself at the movies. Hell, in life.
It's not just me, I can assure you of that. The whole of the UK is fixating themselves on the lives of others. Like peeping toms, only instead of a window they have a television screen.
If we are to believe Tolstoy, happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. This is certainly true of the famil...
Usually one has to tune into the Jeremy Kyle Show to hear as plentiful a flow of populist, self-righteous, ill-thought diarrhoea as that which emanated from the government yesterday. Indignation was the mot-de-jour for assorted ministers, wheeled out to express their incredulity at the latest defeat in the Lords.
I'm not Jeremy Clarkson. Let me make that absolutely clear. In fact I care not one bit for pretty much everything he says and does and his attitude, which can be summed up as, "Shut the fuck up, hippie, I'm talking," makes me wish I was a short, black lesbian working-class aristocratic motorphobe, just to be as unlike him as possible.
The government is promoting dangerous ideas about the poor and it is not listening to common sense. It is not listening to social workers, and it is not listening to its own advisors.