Edredón Caliente

Bit of a grey day on the weather front, I suppose it has something to do with the low pressure front that is over Northern Europe at the moment. Went for a bimble but not a lot was happening so retired to my duvet. Had just sat down with Señora Comecocos to watch the X Factor, when the power went. Learned later it was due to those pesky Germans causing a surge on the power grid, they managed to take out half of Europe. Suppose they were having a mass Jaegerschnitzel und Zucherkuchen seasoned with Feinkostgewürzsalz cooking session.

Factoid: A transsexual who had a brief brush with fame as the lover of some D-list celebrities is quizzed about her glory days and her silicon-enhanced bust. At one point, her obviously distressed mother is wheeled on as a surprise guest to recount how they had not spoken for years. Welcome to a typical night on Spain’s telebasura, or “tele-rubbish”. The word sum ups a phenomenon whose popularity has become the stuff of television executives’ dreams and an advertising goldmine. In a country where the television or caja tonta (silly box) is on for an average of three hours a day in every home, there are 18 telebasura programmes on weekly, nine with shows every day. They feature a diet of matadors’ ex-lovers recounting stories about their lurid love-lives, or minor celebrities telling how they fell from grace at the hands of drugs, alcohol or a deceitful lover. Typically, a panel of “journalists” will shout questions along with the audience until it is hard to know who is talking or what they are saying.