If You Can't Stand the Heat...

Well the withdrawal from Big Brother 8 has been painful this year. I decided to keep busy by removing a skin tag from my neck with this herbal concoction that I found online. I should have resisted. The web site looked like it had been created by some kid doing a GCSE project. The warning signs were there but I still found myself giving away my credit card details to some unknown potion peddlar from Cheadle.

I guess you get what you pays for. After a week of this miracle treatment I have an unsightly burn under my ear that looks like I've been given a love bite by Esther Rantzen. The painful throbbing and peeling flesh feels like isolated sunburn. Like I've been poked with a Star Wars light sabre. The skin tag has turned black so I think it's working but next time I'm just gonna bite on a face cloth and snip it off with the nail clippers.

The nights are drawing in and I'm struggling to find something to replace Big Brother. I can't stick these cooking shows. Chefs seem to me like spoilt kids who really ought to have had their legs slapped by their Mums when they were kids. Mothers have a lot to answer for I think. I'm convinced that adoring Mothers are the main reason why the male of our species can't function selflessly in the real world.

Any road up. Back to the 'reality' world and Hell's Kitchen. I've never seen this show before due to my chef allergy but found myself being sucked in by Angus Deaton's dry and hilarious commentary. The man is a comedy genius and he's got great legs too.

The celebrity cooks are the usual bunch of n'er do wells. Someone called Rosie, who looked like a potato and should have know better, was the first person kicked out of the kitchen. However she was beaten to the door by the blonde one from Blue. You know. The one who did the high bits. He had an altercation with Jim 'what's his name' and then after a moody stare-out with Marco he was stripping down to his white vest and returning to obscurity before the 2nd ad break.

Abi Clancy seems to be doing well in the dessert department. I'm sure there's a few blokes out there who only watch the show to see her puddings.Nice to see my favourite Big Brother winner back on prime time telly. Brian Dowling's mincing skills might be an assett in there but I hope he manages to resist licking too many bowls.

The patrons of the Hell's Kitchen restaurant are also a mix of the rich and semi-famous. Ziggy was there the other night. He was Chanelle-less and having dinner with that Aussie bloke with a red Mohawk who specialises in managing tomorrow's chip papers.

And finally I have to get back to The Chef himself. There's footage every night of various female diners with excessive cleavages getting themselves hot and damp over the grumpy bloke with a napkin on his head. I just can't see it.

I get Gordon Ramsay. I can also see that Jamie has a certain Cockney cheeky charm. This Marco bloke has the personality of a wasp and looks like a John McEnroe auditioning for The Hair Bear Bunch.

Give me a Gino D'Acampo any day of the week. In fact I'd rather have Fanny!

Thanks for the Mammaries

I can’t believe it’s all over. What the hell am I supposed to do in the evenings now that my summer family are gone from our screens? I’ve spent the last few days flicking onto E4 and pressing Red Buttons on the off chance that there might have been a big mistake and they didn’t all leave on Friday. I do know that I need to get out more but let’s face it, the summer was a complete wash out so Big Brother kept me laughing and crying through the wet and windy evenings. This year’s Big Brother was unique in that the housemates were more tanned before they went in!

I think my friends and family must have forgotten who I am during my estrangement from the real world. I really must start returning calls and texts before I’m completely ostracised. If I’ve blown it already I’ll just have to console myself by watching the 60 hours of highlights I’ve got stored on my V+ box.

Brainiac Brian started the last week off in typical style. When asked how to spell booze he confidently replied BO OOZ. Despite earlier misgivings, I’m now totally convinced that Brian really doesn’t know who Bill Shakespeare is. Only a complete yoghurt top would be trying to decide if My Way was sung by Cliff Richard or John Craven!

The housemates had a good giggle at Big Jonty when Big Brother took a break. All except Kara Louise who had the misfortune to see first hand evidence that Big Jonty didn’t really live up to his name. Despite many viewings, for research purposes, I’m still not sure why he was stood naked in the bathroom discussing the finer points of swallowing prawn cocktail.

When the final night arrived there was buzz of excitement around the SB House as my mates gathered with various Australian reds and tubes of Pringles. There were a few sharp intakes of breath when Dermot appeared in a black dress and sling backs looking like Davina if she’d been styled by Peacocks. Davina herself drew some gasps of amazement as she swept onto the runway in scarlet satin like Elstree’s answer to Carmen Jones.

Carole and Jonty were obviously out first. She dragged Jonty and Monkety Tunkety up the stairs and along the gangway like a Mother picking her kid up from school and in a rush to get home to watch Countdown.

A very self conscious Ziggy crept out next and almost appeared to be apologising for being in the house as he got a bit of a rough time from the crowd. He looked like Gollum modelling for the Next catalogue. However after a squeeze from Davina and a wave from Chanelle he relaxed a bit but still cringed and cried his way through his best bits.

Liam looked much more at ease. I suppose you would look happy when you get a rapturous reception from the crowd and you have £100k burning a hole in your Diesel boot cuts. Not sure Amy was overwhelmed when he described her as very nice. It wasn’t Liam’s most sincere moment on the show.

Next up was Samanda. The Twins were even more excitable than normal as they whooped and squealed their way up the stairs and out to meet Davina. The last time I heard screaming like that I was on The Big One at Blackpool Pleasure Beach. Can you imagine what they would be like after a couple of Red Bulls! Love it!

Oh my days. Brian won. The guy was a fantastic housemate. Big Brother’s number one fan is now the King of BB8. Failed romance and bed wetting behind him he’s now a pucker winner and can afford enough cans of cider to rot his liver before Xmas.

The journey’s over. It’s been a roller coaster. What did I learn about myself? I learned that staying up until 2am watching E4 is very bad for eye bags. I hope you’ve enjoyed my ramblings as much as I’ve enjoyed rambling. Now when did Davina say the next auditions are starting………………………..