Archive for June 11th, 2007

Big Brother 8, 11.6.07

June 11, 2007

 Dickhead

Just over a week ago it was my grandfather’s 100th birthday. In between his moving reminiscences of times past, he hit upon the father of his beloved wife Alice, my grandmother, who had died a decade earlier. My granny was from southern Ireland and her father used to beat the shit out of her. He then died of alcoholism. My grandfather, in front of some of our Irish family, declared that in his opinion Irishmen were, and I quote, ‘professionally unstable’. A terrible, sweeping statement, which caused stifled gasps from some of the guests, including yours truly. Well. He’s 100, he been around, more so than this blog would have you believe I thought, his experiences and all that… The racist old shit.

Enter Prick Fucknall. As soon as I saw him, a poisoned blood vessel migrated up my back and popped behind my eye. Now, let me get this straight, one can accuse me of projecting my vitriol in order to sensationalise my posts (I don’t, I hasten to add), but when something of genuine horror greets me, I’ll either fight it or fuck off. Seany is this person, a horror straight off the racecourse, a baffling and revolting mixture of ‘Irish charm’ with the sort of self-adoration reserved for the likes of Bono and Geldof. Put it this way, I know he will have a genuinely offensive collection of porn. Without doubt this is the most awful housemate to have ever entered the BB house, bar none.

What’s beyond worse, and I mean unspeakably worse, is that he likes Tracey. You know – in a rude way. Really, if there is any quark of a chance that those two have any form of contact with each other, this includes a conversation lasting over 30 seconds, my TV is history.

The other new bloke, Bumcrack, the overtly gay, very camp gallery assistant from Greece – he’s not going to win any prizes for subtlety. ‘Sex is my vice’ he shrieked at the other contestants, or was it the viewing public? Either way, I nearly snipped off my own piles. He resembles a homosexual from antiquity. You know – the ones that would dress up as gold painted angels before being roughly had by decadent merchants from the East. He seems to be quite clever though, irritating as he is. I don’t like him.

A quick mention of Ziggy… Now he has ‘competition’ (purely in the form of a pair of extra willies, one without designs on the ladies, the other far too horrific to even regard) he’s going for broke. Chanelle, the recipient of his affections, has been subject to a new, more aggressive campaign of sexual harassment. Chanelle is nasty, nastier than has been previously noted. She’s running the show more than the other housemates realise, Ziggy is being allowed to indulge in clandestine snogs, it’s not the other way round. I think Ziggy knows this which is why he is becoming increasingly desperate for attention. If it fails with Chanelle, I can see him waking up the twins just so they can watch him take a sleepy Carol up the Gary Glitter.

But today’s blog is dedicated to Lesley, the sad, lonely, self-effacing insecure turd that she was. I reckon she was getting a much better time of it at the hands of the BB editors/producers because the hysterical old cunt reminded them of their mothers. From day one I couldn’t stand her, she’s the sort of person to scream the place down because someone dropped a French Fancy the wrong way up on the recently upholstered Chesterfield. She’d start off by assuring the terrified guest that it’s not a problem/we all make mistakes type thing before throwing a prolapse-derived wobbly, resulting in said guest being removed by her fanny hairs and thrown on to the street.

Lesley – she could make a volcano out of pile of cake crumbs. This is born out by the way she treated her time in the house. For Lesley, it was Stalag Luft 3. It was all about dealing with the enemy, about coping with adversity in the face of terrible hardship. The final straw was when Fucknall, being coerced by the hard-glue hooters of Charley, ripped her duvet off. A cuntish thing to do I’ll admit but her reaction was enough to cause me to stand, point and go AH-HAR at the screen. 

You see, throughout her time in the house you could’ve actually been forgiven for forgetting that she VOLUNTEERED to go in, that it was HER DECISION to be involved. She wasn’t captured, coerced into being in the fucking house… Yet we all paid by having to put up with her Easter Island visage with moaning patronising words coming out of it. Lesley thought she was so much better than anyone – better bred, manners, education, intelligence… but in the end she was just another prick who forgets that they asked for everything they get as well as what will come.

Some will do well out of this. Laura is still my favourite to win but Nikky is coming up fast. I like her a lot and she, unlike fucking Lesley, is doing a whole lot more for the modern women than that humourless wanker could in a lifetime.

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