I can’t imagine in the world of upper elite journalism Good Morning Britain on ITV is well respected. It is almost certainly not considered a news programme. It is a television show. I don’t imagine the likes of Christopher Hitchens would have watched it to catch up on current affairs. But it’s become my guilty pleasure.
Admittedly, waking up to it in the morning cannot be the most healthy way to start your day, but nor can it possibly be healthy to watch something as depressing as the BBC in the morning. GMB is like a can of coke that has been distilled with swamp matter. Yes, it may taste mostly of swamp water but it does give you a kick in the morning.
What makes it worse for me is I actually like it most when Piers Morgan is presenting. As much as I loath his TV persona he is far more entertaining than all of his co-presenters, even if he is just being an arsehole. It is even more entertaining to see his colleagues all hate him too. The show should really be called Everyone Hates Piers. Not only do they have to work with the smug sleazy overgrown piglet in a suit he is also stealing their spotlight and getting paid the most – and he doesn’t even work a full week.
Sussanna (soon to be a milf) Reid seems to object to Piers’ presence the most. Any time they have a guest on the sofa Piers takes over the interview. He forgets all about poor Sue as does the audience and plows on without her. You can see her feeling threatened and anxious coming to the realisation that she is quickly becoming Sally Smedley – a pair of tits and teeth sat next to the people doing the actual work of journalism. Whenever she gives Morgan a seemingly genuine smile I get the feeling it’s because she has recruited a runner to piss in his coffee that morning. I’m sure with a promise of some sexting she could easily persuade a runner to take a dump on the bonnet of his car.
Whenever it becomes too much in the studio for the short attention span generation the producers always have on standby – Katy Rickitt who has the irritating energy of a bunny rabbit on meth. She is sent out in an effort to make good live television, evading some poor sods home with an entire camera crew as they sit at the kitchen table blurry eyed wondering why they are up this early. A few weeks ago she was in the house of a 104 year old who was about to get his first tattoo. I’m not convinced he actually knew he was going to get a tattoo. I’m not convinced he even knew where he was, by hey its LIVE television!
This morning it was Nick Dixon’s job to go out and interview the bewildered and he didn’t disappoint. He did a short piece about the Queen’s birthday outside Windsor and found a man who had been camping out on a bench since Monday to celebrate it. It quickly became apparent that this man was troubled when he remained laying down for the entire interview. Now that I think of it they may have just dressed a tramp up in union jack outfit who was too drunk to stand. Thinking better of having a
mentally deranged man give an interview from a bench telling us how much he loves the Queen – the producers quickly cut to weather man Alex Beresford holding a lamb.
I wonder if he regrets his decision to become a weather man? There he was,
outside in the cold holding an uncooperative lamb that didn’t much seem to want to read the weather report – without any explanation. One minute there is a nutter laying down on a bench the next Beresford wrestling with a farm animal promising us some sun in the afternoon.
Also this morning – retired Football star and beer enthusiast Gazza joined Morgan and Reid on the sofa, an interview GMB had been promoting for a week. I was actually looking forward to it. Looking forward to it in a way that guarantees the banishment of my soul to hell. I couldn’t wait to see him on the sofa wearing clothes he’d made himself from empty tobacco pouches and Rizla.
Instead I was disappointed. Other than a terrible dress sense he looks well. He didn’t offer any drunken football chants, he wasn’t sick on Morgan’s shoes and he sadly didn’t rack up a line of coke on the GMB desk. He just seemed like a normal bloke describing some problems he has with drinking. At least I think that’s what he was saying, he may not have been drunk but his accent makes him largely incomprehensible.
Perhaps I would be better cutting Good Morning Britain from my breakfast diet. It makes me feel terrible about myself to watch this – especially since it made me late for work this morning.