The middle class person's guide to watching working class TV ironically

WHETHER you’re an average middle class person or a Guardian TV reviewer, you may want to watch mindless pleb fodder in a knowing, superior way. Here’s how to do it.

Be ridiculously enthusiastic

Have an unnatural level of excitement at tonight or last night’s episode of Strictly, I’m A Celebrity or Vernon Kay’s Chip Shop Challenge or whatever. Isn’t it hilarious that people genuinely enjoy it? Okay, you’re also wasting hundred of hours watching crap, but that’s different.

Drop all normal critical standards

Entertainment has certain basic requirements – drama, a degree of professionalism, skilled performers, etc. Britain’s Got Talent’s menagerie of oddballs, such as a fat bloke and his son doing a few Riverdance moves, are more like something you’d see at 2am at a particularly grim pub lock-in. The simpleminded proles don’t notice though, and you’re watching too. You’re so egalitarian! 

Intellectualise the brain-dead shenanigans

The true mark of the ponce. Wasn’t the expression on Matt Hancock’s face as he ate a wombat’s urinary tract reminiscent of Goya’s Saturn devouring his son?

Develop a frightening level of knowledge about total crap

Be able to list all the nobodies or D-listers on a show, complete with utterly useless biographical information, eg. ‘Did you know Fazer worked in Next?’ Your first from Cambridge really honed your ability to sift and retain large amounts of information, although it’s somewhat wasted on Mike Tindall talking bollocks.

Eat un-proletarian TV dinners

You may be watching low-brow TV, but there’s no way you’re eating Birds Eye frozen beef burgers with baked beans and curly fries. Time your meal kit preparation to coincide with the start of Love Island so you’re enjoying Serrano ham and butternut linguine while the islanders talk gibberish like: ‘She’s leng, but I don’t want all me eggs mugged off in one basket.’

Sound as if soaps are real 

Really immerse yourself in the crudely-drawn ‘working class’ residents of Coronation Street and Albert Square. If you’ve had a borderline posh, closeted upbringing you may actually believe working class areas are EastEnders-style micro-economies where everyone works within a 100m radius and, eerily, never leaves. (Except when they get murdered.)

Have a party 

Organise a more-trouble-than-it’s-worth Strictly party where guests have to wearily wear a sparkly outfit. Actual working class people tend to just watch slumped on a sofa after a hard day’s work, but simple folk don’t understand irony.

Unbelievably oblivious prick super-excited about World Cup

A MAN with his head up his arse who thinks politics is something that only happens to other people cannot wait for the Qatar World Cup to begin. 

Tom Logan has already put up his wallchart, laid a series of bets and hung his St George flag out of the window in readiness for the uncontroversial, apolitical tournament.

Logan said: “There’ve been some terrible things going on here – immigrants taking over hotels, protesters glueing cars to the M25 or something. It’ll be great to forget all that and just watch the footie.

“And what better place to do that than the sun-kissed, easygoing regime of Qatar? I went on holiday to Dubai and if Qatar’s half as good as that then travelling fans are in for a treat. 

“Okay, you can’t be gay or trans, but it’s only for a month. Think about the sacrifices our boys are making to get in peak physical condition. Why not just give the lipstick a miss for a few weeks out of respect for our hosts?

“It might help you kick the habit altogether. Just saying.”

Logan is looking forward to taking in group games in new World Cup stadia where 67 migrant workers earning a pittance have died. 

He said: “Accidents will happen. The best tribute to those workers would be having a great time over a few beers watching games in the stadia that killed them. It’s what they’d have wanted.”