WHY DO I LOVE EMBARRASSING THINGS

Ma: Can we watch figure skating? I like figure skating. Please?
Me: NO.
Ma: But… Please? Please. I watched the angry book guy and his friends (Black Books, AHAHAHA), so can we watch something I pick?
Me: Guilt trip. You slag. FUCK’S SAKE. Fiiiiiiiiine.

Now she’s gone home and I’ve watched three Torvill & Dean interviews. I’ve just found a documentary. Dancing on Ice is next. Then their world championship performance in 1982, their Barnum one in 1983, and finally the legendary Sarajevo 1984 performance with the perfect scores from all the judges. Perfect. PERFECT. WHAT. HOW? WOW.

MUM YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’VE DONE.

Here’s so you can do it to yourself too.
DON’T YOU DARE THINK OF MY MOTHER WHILST DOING SO.

P.S.: And because I’m pedantic, it appears that the correct term is ‘ice dancing’. Either way, it’s indefatigably¬†impressive.

Edit: (4:03am) Just texted Mum to apologise for calling her a slag. Bit harsh to say to your own mother even when you’re joking. She knows it was just the fear of spandex and sequins talking though, thank Hitch the Almighty. She’s just making fun of me now DAMN IT

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