Breakfast hijacked by Private Eye?

[underthecountertenor]

I assumed that this must have happened this morning, when the programme sank to the lowest depths of self-parody. Someone doing a remarkable impersonation of Sara Mohr-Pietsch relentlessly solicited listeners' texts, tweets and emails about what they have in their garden shed, what they do in their garden shed, and, if they don't have a garden shed, what they would have and/or do in their garden shed if they had one. She equally relentlessly read out various alleged texts, tweets and emails (surely all written by Ian Hislop and his team) between short snippets of music. She then had a conversation with a Rob Cowan impersonator about his shed, during which he divulged that the girl who lives next door to him refuses, for some reason, to enter his shed. Finally she asked everyone to keep the shed-related texts, tweets and emails coming, the implication being that she will be treating the listeners (Sid and Doris Bonkers) to more of the same in the days ahead.

SMP is clearly very intelligent, but the editions of Breakfast allegedly presented by her have become possibly the most excruciating hours on Radio 3. If today's presenter was indeed her, then I can only assume that she has been possessed by an evil, but exceptionally inane, spirit.

[aka Calum Da Jazbo]

the shed inhabited by Uncle Mort in I Didn't know You cared was a proper shed

[Bryn]

the shed inhabited by Uncle Mort in I Didn't know You cared was a proper shed

I 'eard that, pardon.

[Nick Armstrong]

I assumed that this must have happened this morning, when the programme sank to the lowest depths of self-parody.

I agree, Lunchtime O'Boulez couldn't have made it up...

[ferneyhoughgeliebte]

If today's presenter was indeed her, then I can only assume that she has been possessed by an evil, but exceptionally inane, spirit.

A Rogeyman, perhaps?

[underthecountertenor]

Caliban: I was trying to think what it was in Private Eye that it most closely resembled. I think it's probably their occasional item 'Me and My Spoon'.

[Suffolkcoastal]

Perhaps we should suggest that RW and all the inane presenters and ideas he encourages should be locked in a shed for good.

[mangerton]

Was this well-known composer mentioned?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLjS3gzHetA

[aka Calum Da Jazbo]

not in my shed! only chaps who watch the football results can go in there!

[underthecountertenor]

No, mangerton, but for heaven's sake don't give her ideas!

[mercia]

haven't you seen RC's shed ?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bSXX3yWcnQg

[Bryn]

Please Miss, I have two sheds, one in each top corner of my capital M-shaped garden. I have not composed a note since the mid-'80s, however. My last was a very short electronic piece for two VCS3 synthesizers. Does that qualify me for Breakfast?

[Panjandrum]

Finally she asked everyone to keep the shed-related texts, tweets and emails coming, the implication being that she will be treating the listeners (Sid and Doris Bonkers) to more of the same in the days ahead.

I thought I would just check Twitter to see what responses SMP had received. Trending under "#GardenShed", there appear to have been apparently two tweets: one from a lady who says she locks her husband in there when she has had enough of him; and the other from a chap who told Rob that the whole thing was ghastly and not worthy of a man of his talents (sic). In fact, there were far more tweets about football fans apparently retreating to their sheds for reasons which remain unclear (some of which were in choice language and unlikely to be read out on Radio 3, IWHT). Perhaps this most naff of interactive intercourse has had its day.

[underthecountertenor]

Wishful thinking, Panjandrum!

[Nick Armstrong]

Caliban: I was trying to think what it was in Private Eye that it most closely resembled. I think it's probably their occasional item 'Me and My Spoon'.

The Shed idea is perilously close to Alan Partridge's breakfast quiz question "Who invented the Skip?" on his Radio Norwich show - I posted it on another thread bemoaning the inanity of Breakfast