Where Have All the Cock-Knees Gone?

So it’s the World Cup again! I hate football! IMHO it’s boring. I know there’s a fairly large amount of the world’s population that would disagree, very strongly, with me, but there it is, I’ve said it – I hate football!

I’m not against ball games per say – in fact I’m a huge Rugby fan (my Father was Welsh – it’s sort of compulsory!) but even then I don’t want to watch all the games, just the one’s that matter but in the spirit of live and let live and all that I don’t mind putting up with wall to wall football on the TV schedules for the next four weeks (please tell me it’s only four weeks!). However, I do object when it’s at the cost of something I want to watch every week, 52 weeks of the year. Put it on later, put it on BBC 2, put it on BBC 3 but just give me my Eastenders fix!!

It’s got as far as Wednesday and not even a sniff of Albert Square antics. It may not be the most intellectually stimulating programme around but it’s a ritual that my life is incomplete without. I have a theory that I have, to date, never been proved wrong about – if the phone rings when Eastenders is on it’s always either a double glazing/energy supply/whatever rep, or a man. Women just don’t phone you when ‘Enders is on, unless it’s to discuss an integral part of the plot line, even then it has to be really important to be worthy of interruption.

Eastenders is Valium for the working woman. It’s that half hour between coming home from work and going out again/working again/doing chores etc that you can just leave your brain on the coffee table and unwind without any need to tax your mind – and right now I’m going cold turkey all because of football!

So – BBC, if by any chance you happen to read this, spare a thought for the licence payers out there that don’t give a *@^k who wins the world cup and give us back our soaps – trust me the world will be a happier place for it.