Posts Tagged ‘Liam’

Big Brother: Celebrity Hijack

January 7, 2008

Having announced that there would be no Celebrity Big Brother this year, Endemol then sneakily delivered this uppercut. No celebrities involved, just a load of potentially successful youngsters and celebrities acting as Big Brother, in command of the housemates. Interesting. Of course, they’re still irritating, constantly talking about how they can do amazing shits. But at least they’re a cut above your Maxwell and Aisleynnes, i.e. they have brains and aren’t just malicious spuds on sticks or pointless tit-carriers.

All of this is a good thing as it means nobody with a Jade Goody-like brain turned up, dragging their Victorian freak-show mother behind them and a big pair of stupid plastic wangers up front. Nobody involved, so far, has been irredeemably stupid. Watching the show is fractionally more pleasurable as a result as there’s not yet been any genuine spite – spite being the stuff critics say the likes of stupid-old-me tune in for.

It’s also better because there aren’t as many of the bastards to remember. And they’ll only be around for 12 weeks so those of us who are weirdly addicted to this rubbish will be spared the horror of Week 24 when racist foodfights, footage of people sleeping and unlikely and revolting sexual couplings tend to happen out of the contestants’ sheer boredom.

In terms of celebs, we’ve had a couple already. Firstly, Matt Lucas was effective, literally getting inside the head of housemate John via an earpiece and utterly humiliating him as soon as he entered the house, commanding him to act like a tit as his new pals entered, one by one. The highlight was the moment he was commanded to drop to the floor and scream ‘I’ve got cramp’. Inexplicably amusing. Then they revealed to everyone else it was a set up, relieving the tension before it could’ve got nasty, with the rest of the house bitching about the weirdo Scotch man.

It bode well, but then Ian Wright (who, being a gooner, I happen to have a soft spot for) turned up and started acting like a big fanny, blathering on about his charity work, apropos of nothing, and eyeing up the totty – of which there is admittedly a bountiful supply.

So let’s go through the housemates before they disappear into obscurity, despite their talents.

John: Aforementioned Scottish youth activist. Of gargantuan size. Eager to please, which is grating, but reasonably smart. Kilt was ill-advised. Got into hot tub on day one, forcing others to crush themselves into tiny corners in order not to make bodily contact with him.

Jade: Unfortunately-monickered beauty queen. From some angles incredibly beautiful, from others resembles a confused death mask. Desperately eager to please, which is grating, but has a top botty. And let’s face it lads, that’ll do us. Apparently a straight ‘A’ student, but she must’ve cheated.

Liam: Freakish boy/man/monkey with a thriving media-based business, the like of which I could never comprehend. Occasionally speaks, but happily keeps it to a minimum. Seems more concerned with the fact that his wig is on horizontally than with the fact he is on television. Wears stupid pants.

Latoya: Reserved and possibly calculating dancer who seems indifferent to anything other than watching herself doing the odd bodypop. Interesting haircut undermined by a seemingly small brain lurking somewhere beneath it.

Anthony: Successful boxer. Looks like a thug but turns out he’s quite the gent, and an affable one at that. I’ll give it two weeks until he aimlessly punches a window and gets asked to leave.

Calista: Musician who can certainly play a good piece on the old Joanna, but whose lyrics are, being harsh, shit. Desperately eager to please, specifically when it comes to Jay, but is so innocuous he can’t even remember her name.

Nathan: Mobo winning R&B type who let himself down badly when bum-sucking Ian Wright (he must be an Arsenal fan). That toadying was a real off-putter. Also, being over 21 and middle class, I don’t know what ‘stoosh’ means, so loses points again.

Amy: ‘Artist’ who is likeable enough, but whose talent consists of ripping off better artists. Looks like Vivienne Westwood as played by Heather Mills.

Jeremy: Racing driver with the snidest face in the house. Looks like Pete Doherty after a collision with Harry Potter in which much bile was spilt. His face is constantly in sneer-mode and it’s weirdy endearing. Is so calculating, the only explanation is that he smuggled in a calculator.

Amelia and Victor: Brother and sister contortionist combo. Circus performers who, in the words of Amelia, can ‘put their asses on their heads’. He is as thick as pigshit, and so is she, but she can put her ass on her head, which is probably sexually impractical but makes the mind-boggle all the same.

Jay: Bruno.You know Bruno? That Borat spin off? That’s Jay. I need say no more.

So Big Brother is back, in a very slightly different format. I suggest you revert to your usual BB default mode – complete ignorance peppered with the odd nasty remark when the subject is raised by others or complete, embarrassed immersion and self-disgust. I’m in the latter camp, sadly.

Enjoy…

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Big Brother 8: Live Final

August 30, 2007

BB House 

I’m going on holiday early on Friday morning, so fortunately I’ll not feel the shit-magnet force that is the Big Brother LIVE Final.

Yes – that’s right – LIVE. You get to catch every last tooth-grinding second AS IT HAPPENS. Gasp as Davina fluffs her lines and gurns at her own jokes. Nod in an amused fashion as Ziggy tells us how he’s actually a ‘preddy reasonable kinda guy’ and fall over as Brian pretends he’s thick.

If you’re foolish enough to waste your money on a vote for the winner, please bear the following in mind:

1.) Brian is a charlatan.

I presume Brian’s been to school for at least one English lesson per school year of his life. As a result, he must have heard of William Shakespeare. The entire syllabus of the English GCSE is distorted and warped so that Shakespeare is taken into account, term after endless term. Schools are always putting on productions of Shakespeare plays. A schoolboy can’t get through life without knowing who Shakespeare is. That means Brian’s a sneaky, lying sod.

2.) Imagine what the twins will spend £100k on.

It will be wasted in New Look on every single tiny item of tat that comes in pink. It’s a wasted vote to vote for the twins, so resist. Besides, what did they contribute besides falling over occasionally? They were basically just dumbells for that twat-lunk Liam to lift.

3.) Liam is an abominable twat.

Don’t give the money to Liam. He’s Sid the Sexist without the gut. He doesn’t deserve anything beyond complete ignorance.

4.) Ziggy is a self parody.

Cliff Richard mutated in a microwave face-off with Christian Bale and the lion-man off Beauty and the Beast, he looks like his face is made of play-doh. Lashing out every five days, he’ll spend the remaining time apologising and trying to prove how swell he is, which he isn’t. More annoyingly, if he sees something that he thinks the public will probably find amusing, he says ‘that’s very funny’ without any hint on his face that he is at least partially amused. Transparently trying to make out he’s in on every gag, popular with everyone and with a weak apology for any harsh words, he became dull very early on.

5.) Carole is irritating.

Imagine living with that monster. She may be a Commie in her politics, but she’s a Nazi in the kitchen. Only your actual Mum has any right to order you about the shop like that. She seemed to think that the minute she stepped foot in there she was halfway into a mortgage on the gaudy bungalow meaning she could tell everyone else what to do. Plus, her food looked shit.

This only leaves Jonty, the bizarre middle aged man with the Alain De Botton hairdo and the collection of national flag t-shirts. At first I thought his walking round with teddies would be tiresome, but he constantly farts which makes up for it. Let’s face it, farting is amusing.

Jonty should win on the strength of the fact that he always has a tommy squeak in the tank should there be a lull in the conversation. He also got his unimpressive member out for no reason, walking around bollock-naked whilst completely oblivious to the fact this might disturb other housemates. And whilst naked and in company, he farted. That alone deserves 100 big ones.

If you’re going to vote, I recommend you vote for the weird, pot-bellied, bespectacled, hairy, mentally-undeveloped, flatulent, naturist.

big bruvverz

August 7, 2007

Pure, unadulterated vomit 

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.

Big Brother 8, 21.6.07

June 21, 2007

Money guzzlers 

Shameful though it is, I’m really enjoying BB this year. So many little, niggling interpersonal relationships have been born out of the staggered entrances, which was something of a masterstroke by the cynical producers. Thanks to the late entries we have Ziggy engulfed in total paranoia and Billi reverting to infantilism over Z’s relationship with Chanelle. We also have the charmless Jonathan lusting over control-freak Nicky, Tracey stuck entirely on the sidelines (similar to the way Pete was on the periphery at this stage last year), Liam, Brian and  the twins being amiably dull and Carol going slowly more insane. Charley is going from strength to strength in terms of her self-destruction. I’m thoroughly enjoying watching her. Car crashes have never been so glamorous.

If I’ve left anyone out, it’s because they’re either dull or likeable.

So last night we were given one of BB’s little twists. Usually a complete disappointment – think of Stuart’s surprise eviction or Eugene winning half the money – this time round BB, I think, may have got it right.

In the event, the plot twist was as follows. A hundred grand, the supposed prize money, was to be given away. The three nominated contestants would choose among themselves who to give the cash to, and then BB would not tell them what was actually happening at the end of the series. In actual fact, there’s still £100,000 to be handed to the victor, but the contestants won’t know that.

Ideally, and I’m really hoping this is the case, the housemates will believe the only remaining benefit of staying inside will be the ‘journey’. Some will fake their way to the end believing in this pseudo-spiritual voyage, ulitmately losing the plot and revealing themselves to be fame-hungry maniacs, while others will show their true colours very early on and just fuck off.

Others, ie the twins, won’t understand what’s going on and stand stock-still and dribble for a fortnight. As for Seany, he’ll hopefully implode in on himself in a cloud of dusty irrelevance.

They gave the cash to Liam, by the way – the tree surgeon with the personality of a tree. Presumably they felt sorry for him.

The Ziggy / Chanelle ‘love’ thing that’s going on is actually quite fascinating. Last night we had a classic moment of male / female interaction. Ziggy, hoping to reveal a little vulnerability and have his paranoia washed away with some kind words, was speaking to Chanelle as they lay in their bed.

‘What if things don’t work out for us? They might not’ he said. The response any man might require from this little insecure outburst would be as follows:

‘Of course they’ll work out. I really like you’.

Not too difficult to grit your teeth and say that, eh ladies?

Obviously, being female, Chanelle had to seize the upper hand, thus prolonging the argument whilst victoriously spinning her beau’s world into utter confusion.

‘I don’t know why the hell you’d even ask me that?’ she exclaimed, before exiting the bed in labia clutching panties to go and muck about with the other housemates, leaving Ziggy in horrible limbo as she flirted with professional empty-head, Billi.

Chicks eh?

*prepares for claims of sexism*