I’m writing to you from the green room of my programme, The Jeremy Kyle Show. Its 8.55am, five minutes before I’m due to go on and I don’t know what to do anymore. It happened the other day when I was presenting the show, “I admit there are three possible fathers to my baby- DNA results.”
I was on stage trying my best to look sanctimonious and patronising.
As with most mornings,I was cold, clever, cutting and hard all at the same time. But underneath something just wasn’t right. I was cracking up. God knows I tried, but as nasty and spiteful as I was I just couldn’t bait the filthy, subhuman scum that were on the show to get angry and start a fight.
What’s wrong with me? Really, I tried my best to be charmless, cruel, spiteful, stupid, salacious, crass, devious, weasely, contemptuous, arrogant, boastful, demeaning, lacking in any kind of human feeling whatsoever. I dehumanised them. I treated them like subhuman turds. But would they fight? No!
WHAT is wrong with me? Have I lost it? Is it me?
God knows I’ve got so much to look forward to. Only next week I’ll be presenting “You slept with my cousin—but did you lie about being pregnant?” followed by “I’m pregnant, its YOUR baby, what do I do?” followed by “My mother and father really love each other—there’s nothing wrong with them. Please can you help?!” followed by “I dream about Hitler and hate myself for it.”
Have I lost it Charlie?
I’ve been reading the Daily Mail every day to get some sense of normality back—but naught! You know how insane I am! How depraved in faculties! In form and moving how expressly admirable! Sometimes, in action how like an Angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no…..nor Woman neither; (Though by your smiling you seem to say so).