Archive for March 15th, 2007

Freaky Eaters. Again.

March 15, 2007

Choc 

Christ – it’s like some sort of vacuum, sucking me into it’s hideousness! Last night, Freaky Eaters managed to somehow reel me in like a fresh and naive trout on a particularly devious angler’s line. BBC3 will surely be the end of me. Along with Dog Borstal and Help! My Dog is as Fat as My Face!, Freaky Eaters is default television. It’s always on and I’m always half asleep and inclined to watch the televisual turd smears they wipe my screen with.
It’s important to point out that I found within my frail body the ounce of fortitude required to turn the TV off before my mind was sneezed out of my clenched face by a rebelling brain. Even I can only take so much.

So. Freaky Eaters, again. Yesterday we travelled to Newcastle, or Middlesborough, or somewhere up there in the land where they say ‘war’ instead of ‘your’ and enthuse that things are ‘reet canny’. Lovely people, but violent – and greedy too, as it turns out. A young lady (whose name I forget) was eating chocolate to assuage her feelings of worthlessness. No surprise there then, not a massively big deal. But when we were shown the sheer amount she was putting away, I was actually shocked. Real shock, not mock concern. She could eat nine full size Crunchies in minutes without feeling sick. And her method of eating was actually terrifying – slowly and blankly biting off huge mouthfuls and then swallowing whole. It was like watching the act of vomiting, but in reverse, and with delicious, chocolatey puke.

The introduction took a good twenty minutes and by this time I was not only completely shattered from a good, honest day’s work but also nauseous to the point of needing to wash bits of sick from my lips after watching this poor unfortunate fill her stomach with crap. When they sent the shrink in, it became apparent that his conclusion was pre-prepared. He didn’t listen to a word she actually said. He decided that fear and anger had made her so gluttonous. Nothing to do with a low self-image then? Nothing to do with the fact that her parents have a shitload of confectionary stashed away in every corner of the house? I think they should take this bastard’s PhD away. I also think that if BBC3 are going to exploit those with eating disorders, they might try and name the show something other than Freaky Eaters, which is possibly the most heavy-handed title for a show about damaged people that I think I’ve ever heard. Me and Freaky Eaters are going to have a bit of time apart from hereon in.

Now, who fancies a Blue Ribband?