Posts Tagged ‘Mickey Miller’

NewsGush – I’m A Celebrity List Leak

November 11, 2008

robert kilroy silk

Leaked?

Balls!

ITV couldn’t wait to shoot the list of victims for this years I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here. So they pronged this one out of their press release machine early in the hope of getting some attention at the end of a newsless Tuesday.

We’ve posted the full list of desperate celebrities below, just like every other entertainment site’s done.

Make your own minds up as to whether they’ll provide an interesting sociological insight to the workings of fame or if they’ll once again offer only hours of tedium interspersed with the odd sighting of an ex-politician eating a maggot as though his life and credibility depends on it.

Martina Navratilova
How much do you get for winning tennis matches? I thought it made you rich?

Brian Paddick
Not half a year ago he was going for the Mayor of London job. Now he’s be aiming to pluck a plastic star off some string while rats piss on him.

Simon Webbe
Previously, Costa. This year, Webbe. Next year, Ryan. 2009, the one who looks like a beaten up Brad Pitt. 

Mickey Miller
Oh Christ, Mickey. I know I wished you out of Walford but I didn’t realise you’d end up this low. I’m so, so sorry.

Esther Rantzen
Work dried up has it, Esther? Resorting to this rubbish are you? That’s life, I suppose. Actually, I suspect you’re doing this because you’re a game old bird. God bless you.

Dani Behr
The girl with the knockers from The Word? Oh, right.

Carly Zucker
Already booked in for the ‘gratuitous bikini shot’ slot, recently vacated by the once-lovely, now desperately irritating Myleene Klass. Carly Zucker used to be Joe Cole’s roasting buddy, so don’t expect stimulating discourse.

Georgina Baillie
Oh fantastic.
Give… me… strength…

And at no extra cost, we present:

Robert Kilroy-Silk
Jesus Christ!
That’s, ‘job done’ by casting, as far as I’m concerned. RKS guarantees that at least the opening show will be watched, as people’ll tune in simply to see how that racist, self-righteous arsehole tries to present himself to a largely unsympathetic public.

It starts Sunday, if you can bear it.

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EastEnders

April 29, 2008

GusSean

What on earth have the writers of EastEnders got against Gus and his elderly dog, Wellard? Over the last few weeks they have decided to hand him over to monstrous psychopath, Sean – a cartoon character that belongs in a low-grade horror movie. Why?

Gus, who regular viewers of ‘Enders know as a happy-go-lucky, poetic road sweeper has been prodded, poked, imprisoned, and now tortured by Sean. His dog, Wellard, has been threatened with a stick, yanked around the square in a way you just shouldn’t treat old dogs, and locked in a cupboard without food or water for what seemed like the best part of the day. This has bewildered me.

Have the writers been taking their cues from Hostel or the Saw movies? Who thought this horrible, uncomfortable, and downright nasty storyline was right for an early-evening family soap opera? “Things have got stale in the square,” someone says, “let’s torture Gus.”

In the twenty-odd years I’ve been watching this show, there have been plenty of dreadful and unpleasant storylines: Stella’s bullying of Ben that left you feeling dirty after watching it, the disasterous Ferera family of Asian stereotypes, Kevin being gut-punched by the engine block of a Ford Focus, Pat naked in bed with Frank, but Gus’s trip down the rabbithole of Sean’s one dimensional psychosis takes the biscuit.

This storyline is vile. It interrupts the flow of the show. It lands in peril two minor characters that you felt assured weren’t there to be put in peril. And certainly not by brutal shitbags like Sean – the most badly handled character the show has ever produced.

I don’t want to see Gus being tied up, beaten, bullied, and imprisoned. I feel cheated by the EastEnders writers. I was so angry with the treatment of Wellard, I wrote the BBC a letter. That’s right – a letter. Good, if ultimately useless characters like Gus aren’t there to be shown the instruments by bad and completely useless characters like Sean. They’re there to attend stag nights, fill out the numbers in the Vic, and drink the health of more important characters when they either marry, or die.

What next? Phil battering Keith and Ghenghis to death with a pool cue?

Eastenders

July 11, 2007

 Li

Well done Mickey, you’ve managed to get rid of the only desirable cast member with your idiotic talk of marriage. She also sold knocked off DVDs and grew skunk in the larder. The perfect woman. Alright, she couldn’t act for toffee, but who really cares? Ian Beale’s got away without an equity card for his entire life, so it needn’t stop anyone.

How could you foul it up? I suspect, on Li’s part, the commitment issue was probably just a ruse to escape that incessant squeaking you subject people to. I’m of the opinion that young Mickey was starved as a child and was forced to swallow a pet guinea pig whole. Lodged in his oesaphagus, it lives off stray flakes from the bacon baps he buys from Cathy’s caff, intercepting any signal from his voicebox with a shrill squeak. It’s the only explanation.

Yesterday’s ‘enders was one in an occasional series of ‘comic’ episodes – that is to say nobody got savaged by a stray dog, not one child got maimed by Charlie’s 20 mph cab and nobody fell off the top of a helter skelter. Instead we had Stella trying to sing Barbie Girl over that peripheral fat character’s karaoke machine. Where did that chubby mate of Shirley’s come from? It’s as if Oliver Hardy’s corpse, reanimated, had a shave and bumbled into Elstree studios. We also saw Phil, on his stag night, treated to a stripper whilst wearing a really rather far out looking hat, man. On top of all this hilarity, Minty chased a sheep through the Square.

Obviously we needed a bit of misery now that the mental doctor’s defected, so we also had a dribble of the Max and Stacey affair. Max shouted a message through Stacey’s letterbox. I’ve never seen a more alarming sight than the bulging eyes of the red haired lightbulb head peering through a mail slit. It would give any normal girl nightmares for weeks, but for Stace it was simply a reminder of a great bunk up. If anyone  can think of a more perverse love triangle (only involving human adults) I’ll doff my cap to them.