Tag: house

Tiggy’s Sexy Hugh Laurie Anecdote

Hugh Laurie... ahh, the memories.The time has come, dear readers, for me to share my Hugh Laurie anecdote. When I was 15, me and my friend Sarah saw him NAKED. Well… ok, he was wearing underpants. But they were very tight underpants.

Beads of sweat trickled down Hugh’s manly chest and his sky-blue eyes glistened in the gloom.
“Oh, Hugh!” I sighed.
“Come here, big boy!” drooled Sarah
“Oooooh!” swooned the other 1,200 people sitting in the theatre.

Well… ok, we were watching Hugh in a West End play. Maybe not the intimate encounter I would have liked, but at least Sarah and I had the best seats in the house! We were so close to the stage we could practically lick him. I’m sure Hugh could feel the love emanating from our hot young bodies as he bound towards us in all his manly glory.

Hugh performing on stage in his smalls was, for us, the female equivalent of visiting a strip club. We learned a lot about the wonder of womanhood that afternoon, I tell you! Mmmm, damp.
Mr. Laurie has a new legion of female fans since House took over every TV channel in the galaxy. Maybe it’s just me, but sometimes I forget the good doctor is a fictional character…

The doctor will see you now... but not THIS one.Does this ever happen to you? You go to the doctor with a bizarre mystery illness which is a bit like Lupus but isn’t Lupus. You secretly hope you’ll get referred to the crotchety blue-eyed hunk for an intensive course of hands-on treatment. Dr. House may even need to treat you wearing just his underwear! It will be worth bleeding from every orifice just to get an anal probe from Dr. Sexy.

Unfortunately, by the time you’re laying on the examination table with your naked bum in the air, you remember Dr. House isn’t real. Instead, you end up getting prodded by a burly Russian with a white coat and hairy hands, who studied medicine while awaiting his murder trial. There’s no House in this doctor.

Just me then? Oh well. At least I didn’t have Lupus.


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Kill Your Television: TV Shows Coming Soon?

Modern TV is rubbish

There’s something wrong with my TV. It only shows CSI. No matter which channel I flick to, I still see Gil Grissom prodding a mutilated carcass. Every fucking channel. The CSI team continues to probe blood-spattered bodies all evening. A perfectly coiffured woman slices into a cadaver and harps on about seminal fluid and slash marks. There’s a time and a place for seminal fluid and it isn’t while I’m eating my dinner.

My faulty TV is now subjecting me to a visual horror show. Sweaty fat guys weld motorcycles, plastic teenies squawk Whitney Houston songs and hyperactive Americans demand I buy Super Bam Power Juicer. Realizing this parade of televisual twats is what constitutes entertainment these days, I’ve decided to cash in and develop my own shows to flog to the networks.

Big Brother with a refreshing twist

Celebrity CSI: A reality show contestant is brutally murdered. A team of other reality show celebrities don rubber gloves and tap bleeping computers to work out who did it. Of course this being a reality show, the unlucky celeb will be sacrificed for real. The victim’s family should be informed of their loss live on TV – think of the ratings!

Infomovies: Movies are practically two-hour long infomercials these days (yes David “Ooh, product placement all over my new movie! Nike! Buy Nike!!” Schwimmer, I’m talking to you). Why not have movie-length commercials? Get Brad or George to pump the Bowflex® Home Gym for two hours. Throw in a sub-plot involving terrorists, homicidal pirates and a shower scene and you’re on to a Bowflex® marketing winner.

Everybody Loves Everybody: Nice middle class family (with a seemingly endless supply of money) headed by lovable chubby guy called Jim. Crime, disease and ethnic minorities do not exist in Jim’s world, apart from one token black friend who gets all the worst lines. Hilarious plots include:

– Jim sneaking out to watch the ball game – just wait until Mrs. Jim finds out!
– Jim arguing with his cantankerous mother-in-law. She’s not bitter because she’s lonely and marginalized, of course.
– Trailer trash neighbour stealing the lawn mower, barbeque etc. Stupid poor people are funny!

It’s a tried and tested sitcom formula so why do anything else?

Nice Fluffy Family Happy Fun Time: To keep those right-wing religious zealots happy, I’m developing a family show just for them. Imagine a wholesome hour filled with children’s spelling bees, jolly songs about Jesus and how lovely he is, children petting puppies, jolly ladies doing jigs, puppies judging spelling bees and jigging children petting Jesus. And knitting. There should be a lovely knitting segment, with sweaters and spinning and jigging. None of those nasty liberal wool colours like indigo and orange. Just nice shades of beige. Amen.

Cherubic children's Christian Choir. You have been warned.

House on Houses: Cranky medic Dr Gregory House helps young couple get on the property ladder by showing them around overpriced apartments (how the hell young couple can afford them is a mystery). Deal closes just in time for House to rush back to hospital to save a young girl from Lupus etc, etc.

Why struggle for original ideas and innovation when you can make easy money recycling the same old formats over and over? And if it makes Rupert Murdoch and Jim Shaw even more money, it can only be a good thing.
Can’t it?


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Tiggy’s Word Of The Day – Defibrillator

Dr. House He So Dreamy

Dr. House rushes to another cardiac emergency

2. Defibrillator

A machine you use to resuscitate a heart attack victim while you pretend to be Dr. House. Don’t forget to shout “Clear!” and make biting yet witty remarks as you zap away. What fun.

Unfortunately it is not a good word to have to use in an emergency.
“Help, this man’s dying over here! Get me the defip… defrim… defuck… Oh, wait. Nevermind.”


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