March 21, 2004
posted in Celebrity, Humour, Television
Ingredients:
Four independent thirtysomething women (one slightly horsey)
A multitude of model-material boyfriends
A couple of screamingly camp gay friends
A warehouse of clothes that you never thought would work together
Shoes. With a capital S.
A slightly naughty theme tune
Method:
1. Four women in randomly chosen clothes from the Warehouse of Dysfunction appear. Outfits are groundbreaking (or just plain upsetting). We see them in a swanky restaurant for lunchy munchies, where all four of them push their food around their plates a bit without eating a bloody thing (a bit like all customers of The Diner in Home and Away, or the Coffee Shop in Neighbours). We become involved in their banter for a few minutes, until a Personal Problem gets aired by Ugly Bint Someone, after which we are treated to the witty responses of the other three.
2. Later, Ugly Bint Someone With Personal Problem, now wearing a different outfit, goes Shoe shopping with pet gay man. Pet gay man attempts to offer advice on the Personal Problem, but fails because his voice is too staccato, whiny and high pitched to concentrate on. Pet gay man then attempts to hump lady’s leg, fails again. Pet gay man attempts to hump shop assistant’s leg, fails yet again.
3. Graphic scenes of the sexual exploits of the eldest, horniest woman in which we see waaaaay too much pubic hair and sweat and more pubic hair and some convoluted piece of novelty sexual apparatus.
4. Cut to horsey woman (new outfit, ridiculous Shoes) loafing around her apartment, pondering the Personal Problem revealed at lunch. In third person. Watch her formulate a Life Question and type it beautifully onto her laptop (no typos, no mistakes, no bloody Paperclip to ask if she’d like help writing her wanky column).
5. Ad break: Baileys, Persil, Tampax, Anna Friel whining about how walking to the shops cost her £4060 because she was duped into buying some Shoes which cost £60 per step before 7pm and £40 after (silly bint), some brummy woman with a megaphone exclaiming “Don’t panic, I’ve got this week’s Heat”, Tampax (again).
6. Four women do dinner this time, new outfits (is that hat made out of the previous scene’s Shoes?), horse-woman bumps into one of her many exes, who is thirty-four years older than her. Horse woman attempts to snog face off ex, tries really hard not to walk off with his false teeth in her cheek. Whilst she’s chewing on his polygrip ultra, she realises she has just discovered the solution to this week’s Personal Problem. She also realises that none of them have jobs unless the storyline requires them to sleep with a colleague/manager/cleaner with some sort of sexual problem, or who is hung like a drayhorse. She skips down the street in a tutu (where did she change outfits? We can’t keep up). Gets Shoe horribly caught in drain cover.
7. Ugly Bint Someone gets shagged yet never removes bra.
8. Blindingly obvious yet entirely hypocritical moral solution to Personal Problem is padded out into a 10 minute monologue played over scenes of a horse and cart in Center Parcs Central Park with a patronising voiceover, finishing with “in summary… yes.” By this time we’ve forgotten the question. Which leaves us wondering if the horsey woman had schizophrenia and the three other characters were merely outward representations of her multiple personalities… or perhaps just a tiresome plot-line device in her column.
9. After credits finish rolling, horsey woman screams at her ‘Friends’ in the mirror, crushes can of Red Bull and then attempts to lean out of her penthouse balcony and hit someone on the head with it.
This loving tribute to the sextravaganza that was Sex In The City involved some kinky three way action between Simon, Sarah and Ben.
