There’s a programme on RTÉ called “Home Rescue“.
There is nothing particularly original in the concept. They find a home that is a bit cluttered and which could do with a bit of a revamp. The occupants are moved out for a few days and the house is cleared and the odd wall or two removed. The owners are then brought back amidst squeals of delight at how spacious and well designed their home now is.
I like the programme [which is a fairly rare phenomenon] but mainly because I secretly could shift Róisín the architect. I naturally didn’t tell Herself about my dirty daydreams of having a tumble in the rubble with Róisín, but one evening she mentioned she was having similar daydreams about Peter the builder. So we can now watch the programme and each have our own lustful thoughts.
Then the thought crossed our minds that we would be ideal candidates for the programme. The Manor could do with a drop of redesigning to give us a little more space, and certainly it would be grand to chuck out the mountains of clothing Herself has accumulated over the years. We also have the sympathy angle too – the poor old pensioner being a full time carer for his disabled missus. They like to have a bit of a sob story to show how deserving the homeowners are. Best of all I could shift Róisín while Herself could bat an eyelid at Peter.
The usual story is that a son, daughter of friend of the homeowners apply with all the reasons they are deserving. It would be a little strange for me to apply in person as that would just make me appear greedy. So obviously I would have to make the suggestion to Daughter, that she could apply on our behalf and we could then act all surprised when the film crews arrived.
The first thing I would have to do is to find out how to apply. I did a search around and discovered that the programme is produced by Coco Television for RTÉ. I found the application form. There were a few conditions. I had to be over 18. Grand. I had to own the house. Fine. I must not be, nor ever have been an employee of Coco Television or RTÉ. FUCK!
I shall have to just carry on just watching the programme and having dirty lustful thoughts about Róisín.
She doesn’t know what she’s missing.