Dr Caroline Lucas MEP Comes For TEA

Adventures in TV A.M.

By Pizza Girl

Green Credentials

The Author

THE 'SARAH PACINI COMES FOR TEA' EDITION It's nice to think the West Hill-Dials was represented at the Olympics. I hadn't expected to go, but was asked at the last minute to attend in an advisory capacity. I'm completely, totally exhausted. But at least I have until 2012 to recover before my next opening ceremony event. The smaller budget, though, does concern and worry me, as well as fill me with apprehension and disquiet. My anaesthetist demanded I take a week's house rest. What a hedonistic televisual revelation spending time at home can be! My busy 24/6.5 lifestyle (yes, I still work half a day on Thursdays) parked me firmly in front of our new Prestigio HDR 47in LCD Helium TV with Freeview Dobly Sound-Surround that I had been given by a shopkeeper at the Duty Free at Abu Dhabi airport. He wanted me to test view the model in the UK. I always stop over at Abu Dhabi for this reason. Last month I was given a pre-production set of six grand master oil paintings that were actually solar radiators. You may have seen them as I sold them onto Berry's Furniture Emporium next to the new ergonomic chair shop, where I had previously fulfilled all my tanning needs. Apparently the 'paintings' were bought by the Green Party for their offices. I love the Green Party. As most of you know, I bought a massively expensive pair of pink coloured CROCS in New York last summer - each shoe had its own individual personal carbon footprint. My green credentials have never been in doubt. I recently sacrificed my membership of the BA Frequent Flyers' Club (although to be fair I still always get a gratis first class upgrade.They always insist). Co-incidentally, this year I was invited to ride on the BA Stewards' float at the rain-swept Pride. Call me naïve, but I never knew so many cabin crew were Kemp Town Racers. We had a wonderful day together, popping and throwing shapes in the Wild Fruit maelstrom. I felt such a lush to my head that day. Actually Pride are in talks with moi about re-routing the procession up to the Seven Dials roundabout next summer, so watch this space. The new TV? I can report it works a treat. I watched everything for three whole recuperative, relaxing, restorative days. I had no idea that daytime television was so cutting-edge, full-on, and genius. I watched Australia Needs Talented Carpet Fitters, The Joyrider of the Year Awards, Hash Grown in the Attic and Bailiff Booty. Quite a number of programmes feature teams of people that come to your house, call everyone guys, search your belongings whilst taking the best stuff to sell at car boot sales and auctions - surely that's illegal? The so-called makeover programmes are recognised as the Flagship Broadcasts, the Queens of Daytime. They launched such luminaries as Laurence Llewelyn-Ann-Boleyn, Carole Smilie and Linda 'Sale On' Barker. Joy of joys is that most of these programmes are made at our very own Richochet TV in Dyke Road. Their website reveals a stable of new tasty top telly to include Britain's Worst Teeth, Clutter Nutters and Sex in Court. I can virtually, exclusively reveal their newest show will be entitled Unbreakable. Unbreakable sounds Unmissable and will surely maintain The Dials as the epicentre of quality daytime output. My favourite 'watches' include a genial antique man in a hat who gives two teams £100 and an oversized Lidl polyester sweatshirt. These are in either blue or red, depending on the team. They have thirteen minutes to buy antiques to sell at international auction houses. It dosen't get much better than that! A winning format indeed, although I have concerns about this so called reality programming that any free-thinking enquiring-minded viewer would have. I'm particularly concerned that the sweatshirts might not washed frequently enough - the show is on sixteen times a week! Now you don't have to be a brilliant genius to work out the potential "health hazard" inherent in a scenario where sweatshirts are passed from contestant to contestant. Adrian says I get over-involved in these programmes and assures me they would have a health and safety officer present to make sure there was no budget short-cuts made. Adrian says it would be against the ethos of these productions to try to make them on the cheap. Adrian says Sir Lou would soon show them the door if they didn't make the grade. Adrian is nobody's fool except his own at least that's what Adrian always says. Isn't it a funny thing that people call or ring the doorbell at the crucial moments in your viewing experience? Like just as the contestants are choosing which house to "Try before they buy" or whether the Blue couple have raised enough sponduliks to go to a cheap health spa with their grandmother? But that's what happened to me again today. The door chimes chimed its March of the Valkyries theme. Peeping through the drawn curtains, I could see waiting on the doorstep was Mrs Vert herself. My gorgeous friend, doyen of the Greens and life-long buddy, Dr Caroline Lucas MEP. Adorned from head-to-toe in Sarah Pacini (the designer I had introduced her to) stood the newly-elected leader of the Green Party UK and soon-to-be-the-history-making first Green Member of Parliament in the UK representing the Seven Dials and West Hill Brighton. Thank goodness we had put our recycling out last night, Caroline was studying with ecover eyes the contents of our black boxes, I furtively flew around the drawing room, first switching off my 47inch daytime companions, then hiding the empty E-ridden tube of sour cream flavoured Pringles I had been gorging on. The bell rang again. My nimble, practised fingers would just have time to replace all the 500 watt bulbs (18) in the central chandelier with vertical energy saving light bulbs. How we laughed, what fun we had. It was a joy to spend time with Dr Cazz again. We hadn't met since our three days camping at the rain-soaked Beach Down Festival on the Dyke. She is a breath of fresh air, an articulate and glamorous edition to the dull quagmire of local politics. Not since Lord Bassam was seen adorned in ermine has the local political auditorium been ablaze with such style, promise and anticipation. Even with all the exciting events she had experienced recently, Cazzer only had ears for my tales and adventures. I greatly respect her for that. We shall travel hand-in-hand together, me a self effacing step behind exercising characteristic altruism as we make British political history together. She could have listened to me all day had she not had considerable compelling constituency callings, the poor thing. We bade each other farewell and I waved to her as she cycled towards Brussels. As I returned to the drawing room, Adrian, bless, had closed the curtains once more, popped a new Pringles (Pappadom and Chive), returned the light bulbs to the chandelier and switched on my 47incher. Joy of joys, a repeat of the Jeremy Kyle Show, the actual episode me and Biggins had appeared on was just beginning.... Pizza Girl is sponsored by System Electronics, Seven Dials Tanning and Dali's Tapas. Please support these local businesses.