You cannot beat the first round of the first episode of 239 of a new series of MasterChef. Clumped noodles (Gary). Soggy plums (Maria).
Podcast: Alan Turing is the greatest. Fair enough, you might say. But what about Mandela? Ali? Bob Nudd? Or some women? Robin and Sean lament the all-male Icons final, and search for alternatives. Like in Bandersnatch. Contains greatness.
Thank you Netflix for putting a marketable name to Trump’s tweeting syndrome. But why disguise it? Why not write a story where people literally die when they read Trump’s tweets?
Podcast: Dairy Milk? Haribo? Black Jacks? What confection sums up pre-Brexit Britain? By popular demand, Robin and Sean visit the Channel 5 celeb factory. Contains sugar.
You’ve got to be thinking Channel 5 have mixed emotions about this series. Did you know it was a series? It wasn’t that clear when Britain’s Favourite Chocolate Bar aired. But yes! BFCB was only episode one.
There were four channels: BBC1, BBC2, ITV and Channel 4. (You British are very creative with your naming schemas.)
Podcast: Robin and Sean get down to the new, gender-fluid Question Time and recall the show’s boisterous history. Contains answers.
First it was Doctor Who. Now another BBC institution, Question Time, has taken a brave leap into the 21st century.
Podcast: Robin and Sean relive the highs and lows of the Bros comeback. Contains self-awareness. Or does it?
It was a tough choice between this and the interactive Black Mirror. But it’s no time of year for a DIY dystopia.
Podcast: Robin and Sean try to rekindle the festive fire by reading the Radio Times double issue and get exhausted. No wonder – talk about a biblical epic. Contains staples.
Oli stuck a can of beer up a duck’s arse and put it in the oven, which didn’t surprise Monica Galetti, but was probably a shock for the duck.
Podcast: Robin and Sean carve up the Christmas TV ads and search for meaning in Kevin the Carrot, Elton John and the KFC turkey. And Woolworths. Contains some stuffing.
Or is Tony dead? Never sure about who’s dead and who’s not.
There’s no empathy. You just can’t feel the feelings of such as Richard Madeley, Gemma Collins or Victoria Coren-Mitchell.
What is this thing with middle-aged men and their obsession with projecting virility?