I suppose I’d better do a fucking Big Brother review.
It should be clear to all and sundry that this year has been a total washout, boring housemeights, boring tasks, boring house and boring boring.
Two major characters have been evicted, Charley, her with the plastic norks, boys bum and a mouth that ran better than your momma on crystal meth. She pumped more sewage into my ears in the time she was there than Thames Water do in a year. I hope we hear of nothing of her until 2050 when The Star discover she’s now a toothless old hooker blowing off tramps for two fingers of KitKat.
The other housemeight to leave was Chanelle, her with the huge alien forehead and long-cheeked botty. All of her facial features were shoved so far down her gormless face, her mouth was under her chin and her eyebrows began where I have my nostrils. This one was more hysterical than a low achieving Russian peasant woman having her daily bread taken off her; she’d go fucking berserk if you so much as looked at your nails in a funny way. Still, she had the courtesy to leave of her own volition rather than the public vote, so she retains some sort of dignity. Perhaps, we’ll see.
The reason for her departure was of course Ziggy, the ex-boy band blowhole with whom she’d had the lack of foresight to become acquainted. The public schoolboy pseud has an ego larger than his capacity to process basic human behaviour, making him the world’s biggest liar in order to maintain his own warped reality of himself. Subsequently he blew hot and cold quicker than Eskimo twins taking it in turns, Chanelle not being the brightest sausage in the world (and being 19) ended up doubting her own sanity on account of his disgusting manipulative behaviour. I’ve never actually seen someone say ‘you’re a bitch’ and then when called to task for using such a word, vehemently deny it within seconds of its utterance.
Ziggy thinks he’s brilliant and because of this perpetually considers himself hard done by. In his world he’s a bloody good bloke; in mine he’s a fucking turd.
The other housemates are conglomerate of nothingness, there’s the Greek one, nervous, bright, whining. The Geordie one; randy, thick, bemused. Amy; tarty, damaged, vain. Carole; fat, sweet, moaning. The twins; thick, vacuous, daft. Brian; stupid, lovely, annoying. Tracy; grunting, blokey, moronic. Kara-Louise; vacant, drippy, dull and Jonty; giggling, weird, odd.
Last week I think I caught a glimpse of this thing; it resembled a fat teddy bear in pink grinding itself into a horrified face. It had a paint stripper laugh and I think it had a dog ears attached to the front. Must’ve been a nightmare. Either way, it’s no longer there.
So, Brian to win? Why not? Actually, who gives a fucking shit.