Reading: about Neighbours

People mock me for my love of Neighbours but I don't care. It's good clean schlock with distinctly tongue in cheek undertones that gently takes the piss out of modern suburbia while simultaneously celebrating it.

Nice to see Catherine Deveny in The Age today taking up the cause.

I WASN'T LOOKING forward to watching Neighbours. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I have undergone chemotherapy and given birth without drugs, so watching three episodes of Neighbours should be pretty similar. But with more fake tan.

I psyched myself up by chanting, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger! What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!"

And I kept reminding myself that it was my duty as a reviewer and as self-appointed Fairfax-funded ambassador for truth. It was going to be like pulling off a Band-Aid. Commit to it, make it fast and do it in the bath so it hurts less.

So I set up the laptop and hopped in the bath. That's right, I was watching Neighbours naked and wet. You want the truth? You can't handle the truth. It was time to brace myself.

As the credits rolled and that familiar music excreted, I was very afraid.

But the show is hilarious. It's an absolute ball-tearer. This shouldn't have a Logie nomination for most popular drama, it should be cleaning up the comedy awards.

With episode titles such as Look Who's Stalking, Just What The Doctor Frauded, Quack Of Beyond, Give Priest A Chance and Assault And Pepper, this is the funniest thing that I have seen on Australian TV since they chained up a nana in a nursing home on Today Tonight.