I recently had the misfortune of watching this show. It follows a masochistic maternity concierge named Rosie, who subjects herself to the wrath of hormonal princesses that have never held a baby, let alone allowed themselves to “get fat”. One segment features a couple wishing to ask a nobleman to Godfather their child. Instead of suggesting a English tea service, she forces the couple, that has never used an oven before, to bake things that sound more like STD’s than desserts. First off, she expects this couple to whip up some “spotted dick” and gets frustrated when people laugh. Really lady?! You want to SERVE A DISH THAT SOUNDS LIKE A VENEREAL DISEASE and not laugh?!! Oh yes, lets also not forget that she wants them to pronounce scones “scawns”. I have no idea what a scawn is lady, but I do know what a scone is. WTF? The look on the noblemen’s face trying to physically force down the “spotted dick” was beyond priceless
This however, was not the highlight of the show. Next up, a woman I like to call BBC (bitch be crazy!). She had Rosie get her a wedding dress. BBC decided she didn’t like it and had a tailer hack the shit out of it, to the point where her boobs were hanging out like a lopsided mule. On her day off, Rosie had to go find pregnant lady dresses on the wedding day, while Bitch-Be-Crazy is screaming at her bridal party, “I NEED A SCISSOR!” This has quickly become my favorite catch phrase, like a kid with Tourette’s. I’ve managed to incorporate it into my everyday life:
Stuck in traffic? “I NEED A SCISSOR!”.
Fresh out of gum? “I NEED A SCISSOR!”
Oh hey, find yourself hurtling full speed into a steaming pit of lava? “I STILL NEED A SCISSOR!”
After the wedding, BBC goes into labor. She then decides to give birth in her original wedding dress. Which, if it didn’t already look like it survived a zombie apocalypse, certainly did after!