I don’t watch a lot of telly these days because I’d rather read. But when I was going out with my boy’s mother, she and I watched it all the time. It was all we ever did. I’d come home from work and we’d sit on the sofa and watch the telly until it was time for her to go to bed and for me to go home.
She was living with her family at the time and we’d all watch telly together in their tiny front room. There’d be me, her, her mum, her dad, her gran, her older sister and her younger brother in three inward-facing rows, night after night. Her dad was a cowman and the house smelt of cattle, and we sat around an open log fire — otherwise the situation was remarkably similar to that portrayed by the TV sitcom The Royle Family.
We sat and smoked and ate and watched mainly soaps, game shows and ‘reality TV’.
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