Oh it never ends

My bad.
It seems my mentally impaired neighbor with a proclivity for musicals is a television star. And here I was making fun.
Not only that, as his webpage illustrates, he is also a dj and presenter. Well, I'll be damned. He seemed like a plain old serial killer to me.
It was Monday evening, around 9pm, and we were just getting done with dinner when a program called "Distraction"
came on. The show is light and entertaining, a quiz of sorts where the contestants attempt to answer questions while
being tortured. By this I mean getting hit in the face with eggs, having to snap a rubberband against their noses, and so on.
The host is an excellent showman and makes it work.
This year, they have a boy band singing on the show. And I use the term very loosely. 5 middle-aged men, all possessing some kind of
"peculiarity." Who happens to be one of these fab five? That's right, ladies and gentlemen. My neighbor.
So hats off-- who am I to judge? I guess I should feel honored to be listening to him "rehearsing" on a Saturday morning.
Buddha save us.