Today I came home from a Saturday lunch with Ma’ to find that Hannah Montana is on the television. I suppose I could change the channel, but that requires me to think about what else to watch, and right now that is too much cognitive action for me; it’s a Saturday after all.

I’ll be honest, I’m not watching it intently, I had a lovely conversation with my flatmate Russell about the benefits of desktop replacement laptops and what would be the best solution for a mobile DJ. We came to the realisation that whatever laptop he decides to go for, it would need neon lighting. I also was texting a fabulously yet permantly-unavailable girl ideas for her impending wedding; and I’ve suggested the best ideas to make the big day to involve a big fight leading to her future eligibility. Another thing I’ve been doing is looking at pictures of my Cousin’s trip to Alton Towers, and now it’s stuck in my head that is my new purpose in life, seeing as how project Stumble Woof (getting a dog with three legs) and Pardon Meow (getting a deaf cat) isn’t going to happen any time soon. I’m also writing this and wondering what to have for dinner tonight.

Anyway, from what I gather with this movie, it’s about a girl who is a pop star, she seems a very good pop star. Or if not ‘good’, at least, ‘popular’. A popular pop star. She’s blond and has a guitar and can mime it up there with the best of them. Her dad is her manager; I once saw an episode of House where there was a girl whose dad was her manager. He slept with her, but just the once, there was a moment where House stared off into the background and realised that the girl was a boy and that is what was killing her. House saves the day and makes remarks about Cutty’s dress, happy days all round. I don’t think this is the same story. Hannah lives in a city, which is always a good start, as I like films based in urban environments.

I then look up from whatever was distracting me and she was a in field with a horse. Her Dad seems to have forgotten that she is a rock star and now she is a normal girl. I think they’ve changed actresses’ here because now Hannah seems to have red hair; she’s much cuter now but ever so skinny. She’s now living in a small village in the middle of nowhere, and this is where things are taking a turn for the worst. I really don’t understand, was the blond girl before the same girl who’s on the telly now?

There is a property developer who wants to develop this small town and everyone is against it for some reason, I don’t know why exactly, this town looks like it could do with a Brent Cross on it’s outskirts, despite how bad the traffic is around it after the synagogue closes after shubus. During a “Hoe Down” (country and western style, rather than pimp-daddy style), the redhead, who’s name is now “Molly”, who I think is the same person as Hannah, maybe, says she can get Hannah to do a gig to save the town from being a profitable productive town.

The Dad seems to intermittently forget weather her daughter is a pop star called “Hannah Montana” or a country-bumpkin called “Molly”, which makes me feel a lot better because, because if he can’t work it out, then how the hell am I supposed too? I would say it’s a wig, but she seems to change her suntan, clothes and accent too. In fact, her whole personality changes. Is this about schizophrenia? MPD?

Oh no, oh silly girl, if she’s the same one, then she’s just double booked! She’s going on a date with the handsome young stable boy AND giving the concert, her cover would be blown. Wait a sec, if she’s so rich and passionate about “saving the townsfolk” from gainful employment by outside retail investment, why doesn’t she just invest the money from her pop career? This is quite a pickle she’s gotten herself into. I think the morel of this story is never to pretend to be someone else, as you have to remember two sets of everything, and remembering just one set of stuff is hard enough at the best of times.

She’s now the redhead one, Molly, is holding a blond wig, I think the gig is up, the boy of her dreams, the Amish one, is upset. I don’t know why really, if it turned out my girl were a pop superstar, I would think that’s awesome; she could introduce me to Robin Williams and Will Smith maybe. I would try and score as much free stuff as I can, and if it all goes wrong, I could sale my story to Heat magazine, they would lap that shit up. I figure if they’ll pay for “Katie ‘Jordan’ [Surname] “ to get married 4 times, they’ll stump up a tenner for the story of how I found out my girlfriend was actually Nancy From Hollyoaks when I thought she was just a normal girl.

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