Did Ye, Aye

You know, man, after the incident I guess I disappeared into a bad place. I looked in the mirror and I didn’t even know who that guy was any more, man. But I realise now that I had to go to that place to survive.

We’re back up the road in Glesga and we’re in the studio audience for Kevin Bridges‘ very own chat show. Obviously we’re not physically there because we couldn’t be because it’s not real. In stark contrast to a conventional chat show, Kev’s version applies a unique format, being created merely to ridicule up-their-own-arse celebrities such as Nicole Scherzinger, Nicki Minaj and Madonna. He calls them ‘plant pots’ and it’s hard to argue with the sentiment (though let’s be fair, the latter of the three has orchestrated some stone cold bangers in her time. Exhibits A, B and C, for starters).

Nevertheless, Kev presses on with his show, listening to their asinine whining about having ‘so many different ‘me’s’ and retorting with the show’s title: the staple Scottish sarcasm of ‘did ye, aye‘. A phrase used by any and all Scots in reply to someone they maybe think to be talking shite. Having been up there a few times and witnessing how they operate first hand, I can confidently predict that they must be averaging about 50 of these per day per person.

The graphics are very loosely based on an old Friday night version of a programme on BBC1 by a man who can’t say the letter R. The programme was suspended when he and his celebrity sex pest mate got (rightly) publicly vilified for hassling Manuel from Fawlty Towers by leaving sexually suggestive messages about his granddaughter on his voicemail. An incident that estranged her from her family for a number of years. Horrible stuff, worth forgetting. Some text-y speech bubbles dotted around to take your mind off it and remember that it’s a chat show.

I did originally put in a ‘with Kevin Bridges‘ tagline to this, but ultimately refrained because…well, you can’t be putting a person’s name on something they don’t endorse, can ye, aye?