Child's Play 2

Thoughts of ‘what’s her face’ and that wet blonde are long gone and we started this week with sexy Stu trying to ward off the advances of a frighteningly horny Sylvia. He’s a strange one this Stu. Looks like someone stuck Bambi’s head on a Heat magazine Torso of the Week.

In between stealing cookies and bitching about Mo, Sylvia slithered around an increasingly nervous Stuart. She used all of her feminine wiles to manoeuvre herself into his space and into his bed but you could tell Stu wasn’t feeling it. God knows how she didn’t read his body language. There was more cold shoulder than you’d find at Morrison’s Deli counter.

Luke is really grating on me now. That camp and deliberate way he has of speaking reminds me of this annoying kid who was in my class at school. He was always sucking up to the teachers and inevitably landed up with his head being held down the toilet most lunch breaks.

Luke is a clever game player. He flits from one group to the other spreading gossip and planting doubt. Darnell has his number though and rendered Luke speechless when he suggested that he was playing a good game. The case of the missing custard creams didn’t really change my view of Luke. His whole performance during that silly episode was contrived and I was really hoping that one of the housemates would shove his head down the pan to shut the little twerp up. Justin Timberlake, my arse!

Mikey made some blinding faux pas this week. First of all he was caught cleaning his dirty winkle in a tumbler. The luxury girls were horrified that they might have used the glass. Huh! I bet if it had been Dale, the girls would have been queuing up to help and only too pleased to get their lips round his dirty winkle.

Mikey’s second slip was his stand up comedy routine. It involved bestiality and squirty cream and silenced the house for the first time in 3 weeks! I don’t think we’ll be seeing Mikey developing a career in after dinner speeches for corporate events.

I’m really warming to Mario & Lisa. During the video task Mario suggested that Lisa should be the stylist and makeup artist! Was he deliberately trying to fail the task? That would be like putting Shane McGowan in a Colgate advert. His Sex, Drugs & Sausage Rolls T shirt will be selling like hot cakes in Blackpool over the summer. You mark my words.

Dim Dale has been very moody this week. He’s feeling very insecure about his looks since Stu arrived and has spent most of the week with his top off and wearing mascara. He was fishing for compliments all over the place and eventually got some fine praise for his pec appeal from………..Luke.

Picturegate was another one of those Big Brother fracas that start over something of nothing and escalate quickly into something like a pile up on the M25.

Jen’s attention seeking hysteria over some pizza sauce on her daft painting went to epic heights. This was despite naughty Rex apologising about 100 times for this act of gross misconduct. You’d think he’d drawn a moustache on the Mona Lisa the way they all carried on. In fact at one point Jen made a very good point when she said to Rex that he wouldn’t have done it to a Monét. Quite.

All the luxury crew gathered as the storm developed. Dennis was bereft. Sat on the bed with his head in his hands like he was Mary Magdelene at the foot of the cross.

The wailing continued at which point the topless twinky boys finally perked up and decided to throw their taught muscles around and demanded Rex apologise some more to the broken hearted babe in the other room. Rex and Mo sighed and ambled off to see what all the fuss was about.

With Jen still in floods a cider-crazed Becs rounded on Mo and in a flash it turned nasty. Dennis sprang up from the bed looking like an evil Chucky doll and spat in Mo’s face. You could say it was a spit that ended the spat. Immediately BB called Dennis to the Diary Room and the next day he was sent packing with talk of a Police investigation.

Dale was almost the next one out the back door when he accused Mo of squaring up to Becs. Listen matey. The only thing square in that room on Thursday was Bec’s jaw!

As predicted the snidey Sylvia got the boot on Friday with 90% of the votes. Off she went in what looked like a parachute under a sequined vest. I wonder if they’ll replace Dennis with a fit bird. If not, the lads will need a lot more cider in the shopping to make Bec’s look more alluring.

She's just a Devil Woman...

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!

That's better. I've been so stressed this week watching the Waddon Witch that I think I've developed peptic ulcer! How the hell did the BB producers actually manage to find someone worse than Charley? What the hell is wrong with these South London girls and what gives them such an attitude and misguided self assurance? Any road up. More about her later…….unfortunately.

It's not all been aggression this week. We've had budding romance and sleeze. The latter, coming from oily Mario and his statuesque, lycra-clad lover. The pair of them were all over each other all week. It was like watching Jerry 'The King' Lawler wrestling Jeff Hardy on Monday Night Raw. They nearly did come to blows at one point when Mario passed a rather rude comment about Lisa's makeup. Mind you she did look she'd just eaten a cow pat at the time. Someone had to say something.

I know everyone hates Mario but I have to say I've taken a shine to this David Brent on steroids. He's so vain and a bit pervy with it. When he told Lisa he wanted to dip his custard cream in some hot juicy tea you just knew he wasn't talking PG Tips. He's a class housemate. I hope he doesn't get booted next week.

A brooding sexual chemistry developed between Jen & Dale, the house chipmunks. Just like their Disney counterparts one of them is the bossy, serious one and the other is a bit dim. I let you make your own mind up about which one is which. Suffice to say that Dale's input to the discussion about beauty being skin deep was - "If you're attractive and you're a ****, you might as well have no face".

That Mikey's been upsetting Sylvia again. First he sneezed and dropped his snotty tissue into the crisps during the task. Ok I know that's a bit unhealthy but the poor lad can't see where his bogeys are flying. 24 hours later he'd upset her again by asking her to keep the noise down in the bedroom.

Talking of noise. The Karaoke marathon was very funny. Rex just didn't seem to care. Dennis thought he was Bonnie Tyler. Well, Bonnie Tyler with a wobbly 12-pack. Sylvia's efforts were the most bizarre. Why was she singing Total Eclipse of the Heart with a fake Jamaican accent? It was like she was doing the Ragga dancehall version but she sounded more like Zig and Zag.

Mikey wasn't the only one in trouble this week. Poor Becs was so excited when the luxury food arrived. Her happiness was short lived though. In her eagerness to get stuck into the shopping she picked up the 'Go To Jail' card and had to spend the rest of the afternoon behind bars looking like a bored panda wearing Bet Lynch's earings.

Back to the bitch then. I'm appalled to think that Alex is in my Hood. If I ever bump into her in Sainsburys I'm gonna deck her with a bag of BBQ charcoal. Trust me. This woman will never be ready. Memba a told you that. Memba a told you. Pow, pow, pow, pow. Idiot. Thank God she's gone. My blood pressure has come down and I did a normal poo this morning for the first time in 10 days. I'm as relaxed as her hair now.

We finished last night with a new housemate called Stuart. Jen and Sylvia were all over him like they'd just come into season. The others were more cautious and a bit suspicious of him. I have to admit that I am too. He looks like a bearded lady. He's obviously had makeup tips from Jodie Marsh

To Have and to Hold

Still missing Dermy but have to admit I'm warming to George and his Mallen streak. So far we've only glimpsed a bronzed ankle but I'm sure we'll have the pleasure of his muscley thighs soon. I keep emailing the production team so fingers crossed.

The fake wedding this week was genius. Mario, the Warrington Legend, joined in matrimony with sulky Steph whilst his orange partner looked on with a face tighter than Danni Minogue's forehead. After days of 'will they or won't they' the ceremony went ahead as planned and was only interrupted momentarily when the sour faced Alex got up and said she thought the whole thing was a sham. Across the land you could hear cries of 'Sit down and shut up you muppet'.

The happy couple's joy was short lived as a sneaky BB promptly told the housemates that there was a genuine couple in the house and at that point it dawned on everyone that the only possible choice was Mario & Lisa. They came from the same place, were the same age and their bodies were similar in size and colour. Lisa has bigger ears and broader shoulders but that wasn't enough to put the HM's off the scent. Rumbled!

Dale had his mono-brow plucked by the lovely but dour Geordie Jen. You could tell there's something stirring with this pair as they eyed each other over the spaghetti like a Chav version of Lady & the Tramp.

Alex, the Waddon Witch spat lazy insults at everyone all week. No one was safe except for her flying monkeys, Sylvia and Dennis, who she sends out to spread rumours and fuel paranoia across the house. Her rages this week were over a violated lighter, a damp thong and some spoiled chips. Here's a woman who truly knows her petty self. I bet the clipboards at Channel 4 Towers are snapping away to find ways and means to save the vile, volatile creature from eviction for a few weeks. Alex is this year's Channel 4 Cash Cow. Remember I told you!

The highlight for me this week was the electric shock task. When Jen appealed to Dennis and Rachel to stop because there were people in tears she wasn't joking. I was crying with laughter at the jolting jessies everytime their bums were zapped.

When Kat went to the Diary Room to appeal to Big Brother for some relief, I was laughing so much I coughed up a bit of beetroot from earlier. Crying her little eyes out in that shiny red lycra suit she looked like the Diary Room had just given birth. Kat is my early favoutrite. What's not to like about a Cookie Queen who likes boy sausage. HIRRRARRRIOUS.

Have you noticed how intolerant this lot are to alcohol. After a couple of glasses of watered down WKD and they were all falling over and unable to string a sentence together. Sylvia was a particualr stand out as she wobbled round the decking like Kelly Rowland staggering home after a bitch fight with Beyoncé.

To be honest I wasn't that fussed about losing Steph on Friday. I barely understood a word she said while she was in there. It wasn't so much the Scouse accent but the fact that she sounded like she was chewing a tampon when she spoke.We always lose a girl in Week 1. I'm just not sure we lost the right one this year.

Sweet Sixteen

The first couple into the house are a couple! Yes, Sylvester Stallone's older brother and his sunbed princess are BB UK's first real life couple to enter the house. I wonder what odds I'd get at Paddy Power for them to be single before September?

I spent the first half hour thinking Mario looked very familiar before the penny dropped. He's already appeared on a lesser reality show featuring petty criminals being banged up in America's toughest jail. He obviously enjoys being incarcerated with n'er do wells.

I always thought that people who worked at British wrestling shows were a bit odd. Like the boy at school who ate his lunch behind the science block and smelled of frog spawn. However Luke seems quite sweet but I nearly choked on a spring onion when he said people think he's gay. Sorry my new summer friend, but your complete lack of fashion sense belies your gayness. I've seen bingo callers with more style.

Time for some vacuous totty next and BB delivered once again. Steph is a Scouse hotty who was a Girls Aloud reject. Big lips and stick legs. Heat magazine will devour her. Stephanie must have been looking forward to a Summer time of love with boys, boys, boys. Instead Big Brother has paired her off with oily Mario and they're to be married on Sunday round the pool. I wonder if Lisa will catch the bouquet. Where's the honeymoon? Steph didn't look best pleased at the thought of getting lumbered with the greasy lump.

Tiny Rachel was up next. Apparently she has two Yorkshire Terriers at home. The way she was yack, yack, yacking I reckon she's been spending too much time in their company. Davina said Rachel's half the size she was a year ago. Give her a couple more and she'll be sharing a basket with her Yorkie mates at that rate.

Next to leap out of the A Team van was Jamie Maguire off Shameless. A real player by all accounts. You could tell. He was already halfway out of his pants before he got into the house. I have to admit that I drooled a bit at his intro.

Sylvia with sexy eyes slinked up the stairs next. Not sure the combination of purple dress, big orange flower and cow print stilettos was a good choice to be honest. Stick an Afro on her and she could have been Norwood's answer to Crystal Tips.

WOW! Fabulous dancing Dennis erupted out of the van like a chubby Liza Minelli, only more feminine. Shaking his tush and moulting sequins en-route, he was totally oblivious to the jeering crowd. Dennis was doing his own amateur night version of A Chorus Line and no one was gonna rain on his parade.

I'm not sure what the crowd made of Michael. Should we cheer or jeer a blind, Scottish, transvestite wearing an Ikea rug? It's a dilemma that not many of us have prepared for.

A sour faced harridan from Croydon appeared next, in a purple nightie. She reminded me of surly Dawn from BB7. You know. The one who smelled and got flung out for cheating. I bet this one will be shaking her hair extensions at some poor bugger by the end of the weekend. I'm sure I've seen her before. I think it was at Primark Customer Services. She was shouting at a small Pole and waving a £2 bikini around.

Rex next and proof that not all gingers are mingers. His gay Dad has obviously taught him well, but he lost points for wearing roasting tins on his feet. He wants to be a professional bully. Not in those shoes mate.

Then came a Toy Demonstrator from Somalia. What the fuck is one of them. He seems like a nice lad. The last time we had a war zone refugee in the house it all ended in plate smashing when Ahmed freaked. Mohammed looks more stable, sadly.

If you thought the Twins from last year were incomprehensible then take a look at Becs. I've watched her VT six times now and can only make out the words - boys, drunk and stupid. She has an interesting wide face. A bit like Nadia, if Nadia looked like a girl.

Highlight of the night for me was Darnell. He's the mad monk from The DaVinci Code! He seems to suffer from the same problem as Rebecca. The housemates tried for ages to catch his name. They called him Daniel, they called him Donald. "That's not my name, that's not my name". They gave up in the end and just smiled at him. Not even an albino in slippers phased this lot.

The obligatory mouthy Geordie was up next. Well there's always one. Imagine Cheryl Cole with a receding hairline. That's our Jennifer.

The final housemate to enter the house this year was like a Thai version of Jimmy Krankie, wearing gold diving boots and pink plastic pants. I hope Big Brother doesn't give her any ping pong balls!

What a motley crew and don't we just bloody love it. I'm hooked already and fell asleep on the sofa last night watching some people sitting in a giant white ashtray

Premature Speculation

I just love the weeks leading up to Big Brother. My annual TV addiction is always preceded by weeks of rumour and speculation surrounding the show. I’m so happy to say that 2008 is no different and breathed a sigh of relief to hear that Davina is definitely not planning to do Hedda Gabler at the Old Vic after she’s seen off this year’s hopeful and hapless housemates.

There’s been lots of web inches about who would be replacing Dermot on BBLB. I even started one rumour myself on a well known internet forum. I almost had them convinced that The Krankies were in the frame this year. I say almost because just as people were beginning to think that it really wasn’t that far fetched, Jimmy Krankie turned up on Alan Titchmarsh in a neck brace announcing her retirement. Scuppered!

We waved goodbye to Dermy after Celebrity Big Brother and now we say hello to E4 musos George Lamb and Zezi Ifore. This duo are very cool but I’m sure it won’t be long before George is sitting in a paddling pool in tight trunks and Zezi is road testing hair straighteners from the ice cream van.

Haven’t seen any leaks about potential hosts for Big Mouth. Matt & James were my favourites last year. I’d like to see Ian Lee have a go this year. The gangly geek would be a perfect host to keep that noisy rabble under control. I was like a rabbit caught in headlights when I was there. I reckon cage fighting would be less scary.

The strangest rumour I’ve heard this year started off with the tabloids speculating about a tiny bed going into the house. This exploded into an elaborate and exotic tale of belly dancing midgets and a glamorous ex housemate. Wouldn’t it be great if this one was true. We could add ‘smallest winner’ to our list of firsts.

The new eye looks a bit evil and there’s talk of the housemates having an unpleasant summer this year. Maybe they’re bringing back Charley & Carol!

My new mates V+ and Catch Up TV should help me see some sunshine and get a reasonable amount of sleep during Big Brother 2008. Last year I ended the summer looking like Pete Docherty playing Jacob Marley in panto!

Ballroom Blitz

You know winter's coming when the nights start before you finish work. What is the point of turning the clocks back. We all have to suffer just so some highland heffers can get to the milking shed in daylight. Wouldn't it just be less hassle to give them torches?

The other thing that tells us it's time to whack on the central heating is the Saturday evening battle of the egos. Strictly Come Dancing faces off to X Factor again in the frantic, annual ratings battle that makes sure all of us are completely confused about what time the shows start. This is why Sky+ was invented.

Simon's show hasn't gripped me yet. I love the auditions but I'm struggling to get excited about the live perfomance shows. Nothing seems to be working this year. The songs are badly chosen and none of the acts really seem up to the challenge. The only person who seems unphased by it all is that cocky Welsh git with vampire hair. Get 'rid o' him'! Sorry.

The only thing of note this year has been us getting a sneaky peep of the real Sharon Osbourne when she threw a wobbly because the public put a couple of her dodgy acts in the bottom 2. It was very unprofessional and to be honest would we really care if we never saw her and her black bridesmaids dresses ever again. More of X Factor later. I'm flicking over to Strictly now.

Doesn't it just warm the heart when Brucey shuffles his feet and spins Tess across the floor before missing his cue and mugging at the cameras. Oh how we laugh. He could make a career out of this. He's finding it so hard to read autocue these days. I think they should revert to large print on big white cards for the old duffer. OK he's great for his age but should we really be subjected to progressive dementia in the guise of a light entertainment show?

This year the celebs are really going for it. Most of them seem too competitive for my liking and burst into tears if they're snubbed by the judges. I reckon Alesha & Gabby might resort to poison & knee capping to keep themselves ahead in the competition. Poor Anton has had to contend with Kate Garraway's swollen tendons and her inablity to walk across the floor without tripping. No wonder they keep her sat down on GMTV.

Kenny Logan's samba was more like watching something off WWE Smackdown than a dancing competition. He's threatening to wear a kilt next week in a futile attempt to drum up some support. If he survives this week we may get an eyeful of his Paso Doblés!

Gethin Jones has a great game plan. He's spent the last two weeks thrusting his groin at Craig and Arlene. I bet they both need a quick wipe down with and extra strength Bounty after he's performed.

The wardrobe girls have a great sense of fun this year. They keep putting poor old Chubby Barnes in tight lemon satin and pink lycra. Makes him look like Letitia Dean if she lost a few pounds. I feel sorry for the lovely Darren Bennet. He must feel like he's dancing with a wheelie bin that's been on Pimp My Ride.

Deano off Enders is quite good but I'm so fascinated by the way his hairy chest joins up with his beard that I can't concentrate on his dancing.

Dominic Littlelegs is just a munchkin on a spring with about as much rhythmn as Captain Scarlet.

Penny Longlegs Stewart is sweet but as tall as a house. I'm not sure tall people make good dancers. Her jive last week looked like an ostrich having a seizure.

Kelly is my favourite. Pure Hollywood glamour. Shame she's lumbered with the ugly Kiwi lothario. I'd love to see Billy Zane deck the greasy twat.

I reckon Kate will go tonight but part of me hopes the public will keep her in just to annoy the judges and give us another glimpse of Anton's chest.

Pole to Pole AKA Bugger off Michael Palin

Another trip to Liverpool. I wonder what new treats lay in store on my Virgin voyage to the City of Yob Culture. I should have seen the warning signs when I got a Polish cab driver who didn't know where East Croydon station was. He'd only been in the country for 3 days. The gangly Pole had bloodshot eyes and smelled of paint. He had a strange hairline on his neck. It looked like he'd had a haircut at sea during a typhoon. Can you get a boat from Poland to Dover?

He probably got here a lot faster than it took me to get up to Liverpool on that Sunday. Six and a half bloody hours it took. I think we went via Dundee! I wouldn't have minded really. I had a load of magazines and 12 hours of Iain Lee Podcasts to catch up on. Everything was quite peaceful as we eased gently through The Chilterns. However just as I was getting the hang of my new Bluetooth headphones the tranquility was shattered. We were invaded by a group of Eastern European fruit pickers who piled on at Milton Keynes Central. I've never seen such bright and colourful chunky knits since Wincey Willis left GMTV.

The Iain Lee podcast almost blotted out the noise of the chattering Poles and I was just getting into the chill zone again when this woman with a glass eye and wearing what looked like a tambourine on her head started singing.All this and the bloody shop was shut for stocktaking so I couldn't even have a stiff drink to calm my increasingly taught nerves.I don't know what happened next but as we approached Crewe the whole lot of them went quiet and fell asleep. I've heard that Crewe is a really dull place but never seen it have such a dramatic affect on humans before. Crewe did the business and we had peace and blissful quiet for the rest of the trek North.

Arrived at my hotel feeling slightly weary with my jeans slipping down my arse. I'd forgotten to bring a belt. Thank God I had my nice Abercrombie & Fitch pants on!I struggled up to my room with my trolley case, man bag, steam iron and ironing board. Every bloody door had a security lock on it and I had to drop the ironing board and iron to stick the stupid card in the slot. I thought I'd be clever and put the key card in my mouth as I made my way to my room. I was breathing hard now and had a bead of sweat tickling my left cheek as I clattered along the corridor.

At last I reached my room and bent down to stick the card in the door. The red light came on. Pulled it out with my teeth and tried again. Red. I was now pushing it in and out with my head bobbing up and down at the lock. Red, Red, Red. I was getting pissed off now and dropped the iron. I tried to catch it but lost my grip on the ironing board. I went with the momentum as it fell and stumbled back on top of my trolley case. Two old American women who were passing helped me up and it was then I realised that my jeans were now round my knees! I think I made their evening as I couldn't get rid of them as they tried to help me, my luggage and my A&F undies into the room.

I was too knackered to go out for dinner so I ordered room service. A spotty Pole delivered a pizza that looked like it had been zapped by a death ray from the planet Mongo. To accompany this cheesy cow pat I had a dirty glass of Shiraz that tasted like boiled iron filings. I crashed out on my bed to watch Michael Palin going round Europe. I'm sure I recognised a couple of people from the journey to Liverpool. I must have drifted off to sleep but was woken up by mobile ringing. I got up with a start and slammed my foot into the leg of the bed. As I hopped around the room swearing into my phone I realised I'd ripped part of my nail off and there was blood pouring from my little toe. I went to bed with my foot wrapped in an M&S napkin and a blood stained sock.

The journey home was pretty boring by my standards and my toe had recovered by the following weekend. The bruising had gone down just in time for me to squeeze into my new Paul Smith shoes for my mates 40th birthday party.

There was six of us getting ready for the party at my place. It smelled like the House of Fraser perfumery department and there was lots of whooping and dancing around to 12" Hits of the 80s. We all agreed that A Flock of Seagulls were shit.

As usual, the cab was late but we finally piled out and into a grey people carrier that stank of kebabs and ashtrays.I told the driver where we were going. He looked at me blankly. Tapped his Tom Tom and this robot voice started giving him directions in Polish. Half an hour later we were on the M25. We shouldn't have been.............