A Travellerspoint blog

November 2007

Jerry Springer live

... polygraphs, porkies & penile dementia.

rain 8 °C

A few weeks back Jen, Lou and myself toddled down to the Riverside studios in Hammersmith to be part of the live audience for Jerry Springer's new show 'Nothing but the truth'. In spite of the fact that this show didn't feature a crack addicted secretly cross dressing bi-sexual out of control teen hillbilly deadbeat dad secretly been sleeping with the now pregnant mother of his long term girlfriend... his midget stripper cousin, We did have a lot of fun and even got to chant "Jerry...Jerry...Jerry".

The format of the show is this: Contestants subject themselves to a polygraph and answer increasingly personal and challenging questions in an attempt to win up to £50,000. Pretty straightforward wouldn't you say?

We arrived a little late and, once inside with our tickets, found ourselves at the end of the line. When we entered the studio there were only a few scattered seats left and it looked like we were to be separated. Dame fortune smiled upon us as we were ushered to 3 reserved seats. They were in the front row directly behind the area onstage where the contestants family members and friends are seated. Nice... happy with that.

We were feeling excited because we figured we were positioned in an area of the audience where we would get our heads on TV quite a bit. It then dawned on me that, as it was mid November, I was sporting a very Village People moustache as part of the Movember charity event. Not really the way I wanted to present myself to the viewing public.

After a bit of applause practice and some jokes from the warm up guy, we were ready to roll. "Ladies and gentlemen would you please welcome... Jerry Springer" we clap like crazy and all start chanting "Jerry...Jerry...Jerry". It is then explained to us that this is a DIFFERENT show and, whilst we are encouraged to get involved, we can leave the Jerry chanting alone. So we did. Jerry had a bit of a chat to us and then taping started.

The first contestant was a self important London tour operator in his 50s named Peter. He was a total tool. He starting trying to do gags from the first question. He had his ex wife, step son, elderly father, and current young Russian girlfriend sitting onstage with him on the family and friends couch. The first round of questions were a walk in the park...

"Do you lie about your age ?"
"Yes"
A long pause followed by a Hal 9000 style voice saying "That answer is .... correct"

"Could you be considered a Bull##itter?"
"Yes"
"Do you use your job to pick up women?"
"Yes"

After two rounds of questions, we had learned that he joined clubs to network for his business, Said he gave to charities without doing so, thinks his divorce was the best thing that could have happened because now his friends are envious of all the women he gets. Peter had picked up £5000 and the audience was turning on him. He was revealing himself as a sleazy, over confident pratt who had little regard for anyone else. Jerry asked if he wished to continue and answer another four questions to get to £10000? Peter played on. The questions got more personal and more challenging.

"Did you pick up your current girlfriend on one of your tours?"
"yes"
"Are you currently cheating on her?" At this point the camera zooms in for a close up of his girlfriend smiling and laughing nervously. Peter pauses before telling her that they will have a long chat after the show. She is still smiling but now her eyes are filled with tears.
"Yes" he answers. "That answer is ...correct" says the computer voice. We all hoot and boo. "Dump him" we all shout. At this point we realise that we are not being told off for yelling out... so we all compete to try and get our voices heard on the telly.

The next question made us hate him even more. "Have you ever had a sexual relationship with one of your step son,Carl's, girlfiends?" asked Jerry. "We will need to have a talk about this after the show" Peter says "Yes I have". This time the tears are Carls. "They had split up" Peter protested. "NO we were together" replied Carl.
Jerry then tells Peter that Carl would like to ask the next question. "Have you ever had a homosexual experience?" the crowd starts to cat call and waits with baited breath for the answer. "It's a long story" he says, "I was tricked at a job interview when I was younger" he says, "It was supposed to be a massage" he says, "Yes". The audience takes to him mercilessly. Jerry explains that there is nothing wrong with having a homosexual experience bat does wonder how you can go for a job interview and wind up 'accidently' having sex with a man! We now have only one question to go in order for Peter to reach £10000. "Are you satisfied with the size of your penis?" asks Jerry. "I didn't realise until I left my wife just how above average I am... she kept it a secret for 18 years of marriage" he replies. His ex wife laughs at him and shakes her head. "Since the divorce", says Peter, "I have had the chance to actually ask a lot of partners that very question". He pauses. "What did he say?" I yell out. The audience roars with laughter, Jerry starts laughing and Peter looks embarrassed. "For those of you at home, our audience member asked what did he say" says Jerry. He tells Peter that he needs a final answer and notes that if the item inquestion is anywhere near as long as his answers so far that he would clearly have no issue. "I'm very satisfied with the size" says Peter. The room is hushed. "That answer is... FALSE" says the computer. The audience erupts in laughter and the jibes start. A great many pinky fingers are waved at Peter and his family can't help but share a laugh too.
The rules of the show are clearly stated at the outset. A false answer results in the contestant going home empty handed. So Peter had revealed himself as a total pratt, probably lost his girlfriend, ruined his relationship with his step son, all on television. And gone home without a single pence. Now that's entertainment!

Stephen.

Posted by StephenJen 11:32 Archived in England Tagged events Comments (0)

Movember...

... a hair lip gets hip!

10 °C

(Cue Barry White's 'My first, my last, my everything')

Ladies...

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Movember Day 8

I ask you, is there anything sexier than a man with a moustache? Hell no (I hear you say). One need only remember the unabated sex appeal of Magnum P.I or Jason King or any number of international cricketers in the 1970s. The evidence is clear, a man simply looks like a heavy set woman with a gut unless he is sporting a mo. That's what makes Movember the sexiest charity event on the calendar. How could I resist then when the cause of mens health issues came knocking on my bathroom door. I stood tall, put my razor down and put my hair where my mouth is!

I am now proud to be one of the members of the 'Fantashtics', growing a 'Village People' mo for charity. Mind you, it's a little easier for my team mate, Adam, he is currently living in Turkey. Now everybody knows that Istanbul is Motown. Everyone over the age of 8 has a moustache there. I, on the other hand, am subject to quizzical and envious looks from strangers on the London underground as I commute to work each day. I have explained to the people at my workplace that I am growing this bad boy to raise awareness about mens health, and that they must now refer to me only as 'Cougar':

"Stephen can you fix a paper jam in the 6th floor copier?"
"Who?"
"Sorry, Cougar can you fix a paper jam in the 6th floor copier?"

I should point out here that I was originally to be known as 'The Cougar' but after lengthy discussion with my boss, Craig, I decided to drop the 'The'. A good decision I think you will agree. I mean... they don't call him 'The Prince' or 'The Skippy' do they?

The rules for participants are easy. Be clean shaven on Movember 1st and get growing for the month. Along the way, encountering the perils of in-grown hairs to unwanted advances from women in the street. It's a dirty job alright. Especially after soup!

So next year, why don't YOU consider becoming hirsute for health. Get onboard and grow a mo for charity!

Stephen.

Posted by StephenJen 11:35 Archived in England Tagged events Comments (1)

A cracker of a night.

For Fawkes sake... I've burned my thumb!

overcast 13 °C

Well one of the enjoyable things about life here in London is the flagrant disregard for public safety. This weekend that disregard came in the form of Guy Fawkes night. It brought back memories of childhood in Australia as the neighbourhood flashed and echoed as hundreds of fireworks were set off. Never ones to shirk our responsibility to embrace local culture we hit the local Tesco supermarket and purchased a modest supply of fireworks.

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We thought the safest location would be a large park, located next to a hospital and a prison. The plan was to brighten lives and get the blood pumping for the heart patients, and bring memories of violent crime and life or death gun battles flooding back to prison inmates, through the use of loud bangs, flashes and smoke. Job done!

We were armed to the eyeballs with all manner of fountains, catherine wheels, rockets, bigger rockets and assorted other stuff. Apart from an over ambitious multi rocket thumb burn, everything went off with a bang. The sky was filled with colour and the grass oozed smoke for ages. We could feel the patients and prisoners joy increasing with every explosion. We were so inspired that we raced home and employed a long piece of pvc pipe to launch several of the big rockets from our balcony, over the primary school next door and into air space over the BBC garden.

We had a lot of fun this weekend. Next year we will be better prepared and go even bigger!

Stephen.

Posted by StephenJen 08:58 Archived in England Tagged events Comments (0)

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