Sunday night in the company of a female acquaintance I was subjected to the televisual  travesty that is “The Voice of Ireland”. Her appreciation of this dreadful show disappointed me as up until this point she had shown signs of potential, but I’m nothing if not resilient. As she lapped up the so called talent show, I began to move on by opening up Tinder.

Looking up at the screen between matches I realised that the Voice is very similar to typical night out in Ireland. Little or no real talent, lots of bitchiness and too many people walking around with delusions of adequacy.

The premise of the Voice is that it’s a contest based on finding the most talented artist even if they are really ugly. This may exactly how they phase it but you get the message, its what’s on the inside that counts and all that nonsense. This is what most single people tell you they are looking for. To be fair to women they aren't as shallow as us men. I’d hold my hand up and admit that personality is something that comes into consideration if we make it to a third date.

The audition process is like trying to chat up a typical Irish girl. Given the outrageous amounts of make up and fake tan they wear it might as well be a blind audition. Waking up in the morning can be filled with the same trepidation as pressing that red button. Generally when I’m chatting up a bird her friends are watching on from the wings in excited anticipation much like the contestants families back stage with Eoghan McDermott and Kathryn Thomas.

Picking who to go off with is often based on looks but you need to pick whose best for you. The judges arguing over contestants reminds me of the kind of nonsense that I fill girls heads with on nights out. “If you chose me we’ll make sweet sweet music together” or “I need you” instantly followed under your breath by “until someone better comes along.” Better yet, when nobody turns around, some judge has to break it to them gently why they less welcome in the next round than Michael Lowry at a Women in Business meeting, “You were very nervous weren't you?” is the same as “Its not you it me”.

What have the previous winners of the Voice of Ireland and the bird I scored last weekend all got in common, nobody remembers who they are.

Too me it just feels like a lot of effort and nonsense for ninety seconds of awkward, nervous, loud grunting….and I don’t like the auditions on the show either.

Don’t hate the Galway Player…hate the Galway Game

 

 

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