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What is it about this year's boys: drama queens all? The producers must be so annoyed. They bring some men in to sex and butch things up a bit and they are all just, so, waily, all the time. Jonathan delivers his "I vont to leave" spiel, Ziggy goes to the diary room to request to leave, Billi peeps out from that horrible, vile fringe like Princess Di looking all bruised and hurt. Even Liam is, frankly, a big lady's chemise. Meanwhile the girls get on with the serious Big Brother business of duffing each other up and back-stabbing. I think that Charley only seems quieter because, for her, the opposition must seem pathetically inadequate. There's not much point having a scrap if the squealing starts before the first punch.
The twins by the way and that 'test'... Yes Damian, brilliant. So funny. The wonky helmets, the truly psychic powers, the scary drawing. I realised that when Amanda (or Sam, I don't know which twin of the damned it was) was in the diary room she reminded me of the girl on the old test card. And see, they are TERRIFYING.
Which is exactly what the lovely Tim has suspected since Day One. Those girls are evil little Midwich Cuckoos . Expect blood to start running down walls, the toilet to vomit flies and heads (other than Charley's) to revolve.
Another eviction beckons--a televisual enema designed to flush the crap out. Week after week I've begged you to keep the most watchable ie aggravating housemate in. This week that's the sly-eyed sneakster Billi. I can barely bring myself to say it but it's true. BoSelecta Rose West AKA Carole has been marginally more interesting than Tracey. So, once again, let her 'ave it!
"We're getting the lower spectrum of tasks," complains Brian this morning. No wonder. This from the man who wet the bed live on national television. The man who doesn't know who 'this Shakespeare geezer' is and who appears to have no teeth in the lower part of his mouth. And, who just before 2pm, gave us this gem, "Everyone has skid marks," he claims, while complaining about having to wash his own filthy boxer shorts.
He's not all there...is he? The final most damning proof is that he gazes at Charley with something approaching longing. I'd rather stare at the sun.
Brian Demonstrates Just How Clever He Is...
PS Brian does actually ask, of Romeo, 'aint that the geezer out of so Solid Crew?'
So this week we're being treated to the diary of the Hucknall-Hobbit. This from the official C4 BB8 website:
"I did Richard and Judy with my dad today, the pinnacle of all this. It
was a very special occasion to be on with my dad. It was quite unusual
because I didn't go on as Seány from Big Brother, I went on as Seány as
me...I felt like Seány was back."
Seány, like Salvador Dali, Hitler and Madonna, is now talking about himself in the third person. This is a sign of madness. The first person is just not enough for him. Not now he's opening branches of Lidl and panting desperately for attention in sticky-floored regional gay bars. And doing Richard and Judy with his dad. *shudders*
So, I'm watching Big Brother again for the first time in a couple of weeks. I'm sitting there and the awful, awful horror entered my brain-head: I don't like this Big Brother!
It might even be boring. I might not watch this thing any more. I might go shopping, make a death-slide or listen to 'Stars on 45' over and over and over again... until I'm sick.... and I can take a lot of that medley stuff, man...
And then a tinkling was heard in the distance. It grew louder. Lyrics could be heard:
Don’t try to take me to a disco
You’ll never even get me out on the floor
In ten minutes Ill be late for the door
I like that old time rockn roll
And that was it; I totally ROCKED OUT! I opened all the windows, put on my favourite Ray Ban’s, pink shirt and white socks. Even the underwear was glowing white. I never liked that egg anyway...
And then Brian answered my prayer. Such a ridiculous diary room entry. He has such a lovely voice. Splendid diction. Sublime.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any better for one evening, Charley and Billy's little punishment. Astute observation by Charley - '...give me a cigarette. I'm sick of this 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest' Thing'
I have to go wipe up; the thought of Carole heaving the two tonne sink from its pedestal and smashing her way out of the house into the night is just too much for me..
The newly quiet, tame-haired, no pink streak Carole is a worry. Days without a "largin it" or "'avin it", she even appeared to speak in a complete sentence with noun, adjective and verb in the highlights show last night. She just lies on her bad like a haddock. And Nikki, blooming under the Liam sun, has become Pollyanna. And what's happened to Charley? She goes to the diary room to have a pop about the caravan thing and then just leaves mutedly. Has the dunking dulled her? Or, as I am more and more convinced, have the twins put something in the water? I repeat: they are TERRIFYING.
Liam - favourite to win. Arggghhhhhhhhhh.
Please Hertfordshire Police get in there. Did you hear Brian ramp up his pervery to the max indulging in some fevered sex imaginings with Charley? "Then I put my hand on your breast..." She kind of encouraged him, then poured nice acidy water on his ardour. I felt sympathy for Charley: his total dimness re Shakespeare left me beyond depressed. Dumb Britain: there is no hope. Apparently Charley has entered the BB house, meaning the pair have failed the task - was it a task? On being told this, Charlie span out completely (I know, unlike her). Liam and Nikki: he's a bad boy innee? Good. If her faith in men was shot to pieces before she entered the house expect her to set up a Separatist Female Housemates wing - caravan HQ being a safe space, the twins patrolling outside bouncing with pink-boa trimmed rifles - by Tuesday.
Hateful. What is it about that mop-haired little Fraggle I loathe so much? 'Put another one in here so I can do her' - ugh.
Hmmm. Can 44 and a half per cent be wrong? Possibly. This is Big Brother after all. But having seen his interview with Davina I'm glad he's gone. Seany said he wanted to bring fun to the house (and his dunking of La Gob was admittedly a master-shove) but did he? I know he leapt around a bit, but like Dawn Right Nasty says, 'prankster' (Jeremy Beadle and all of his ilk) equals loathsome. Seany's 'pranks' were terrible anyway. Wet tissue in a shoe? Greaaattt. the only good thing Fuzzy Bear did was kiss Gerry. Carole to continue her EastEnder Grotbags routine. Jonathan to keep appearing in little green puffs of smoke. And what is going on with the twins and their glassy eyes and that weird weird weird, chair-bouncing private world (like the pretend slapping game)? They either do loads of Nuts shoots after they leave or are put in a lab and studied.
That shut him up. Did you see him gaping for air?
Do we feel sorry for him? Are we glad to be stuck with Carole and Jonathan?
Look it's happened once before that Britain (implausibly) fell for the charms of that Geordie squit Anthony a couple of years ago. But please can we all just come back from the edge this time and not go ga-ga over this year's simple-but-nice Geordie boy Liam. I accept he isn't annoying in the way Anthony most definitely was: he doesn't disco dance and do funny windmilly things with his hands. I accept he is a thoroughly nice person who behaves thoroughly nicely at all times. But man, he is televisual Mogadon. He's about as animate as the wood he climbs up. Yes, he's Mr Decent and surely now he is a poetic shoo-in for winning - £200,000, "way ay, it's for me mam" etc - but please no. Please let us not be lulled into Liam-love.
Oh wow. I thought she was going to melt like the evil witch in the Wizard of Oz when she got out, dripping and scowling. That so had to happen. It was delicious. Did Seany actually survive the night, or has he been chopped up for Irish stew? I especially loved Charley's attempt to laugh it off quickly being replaced by a murderous rage. Dammit, I want her to stay in, if only - when she's trying to be nice - to start invoking God in hilariously mad ways as when Liam won that cash.
...ok,ok...I am v hung-over so bear with me. Last night I ran into the lovely Dermot O'Leary at the 25th Gala party for Terrence Higgins Trust (the HIV AIDS charity). After we'd been worthy we decided to be bitchy and talk evictions.
Dermot doesn't want Seany to go for the same reasons I didn't want Shabs to go. Seany is Hobbitlicious to behold and doubtless has undiagnosed hyperactivity. But he's not Evil. (textbook definition of evil: Charley). The house is duller to watch, though doubtless easier to live in, since Shabs left.
So, Dermot says keep Seany. Amazingly--despite my vile posts--I agree. I am happy for Jonathan or Carole AKA Bo-Selecta Rose West to shuffle off.
Dermot did say other things I am sure. But I can't remember. I either fell over drunk or swooned at his Dermotness.
*oh and Janet Street-Porter was crowing about how the F Word is beating BB but she admitted to watching it anyway*
Liam is crying. LIAM IS CRYING! Real emotion....I wonder how long it will take Charley to move in and how many of the few garments she has left will remain in five minutes time...
Carole says Ziggy, Jonathan says Amanda, Seany and Carole say NO to Laura...And somehow they all agree on Liam. Within a minute. £100,000. And who do they give it to?
LIAM! What's he going to spend it on? A nice pair of loppers? A new chainsaw? A PERSONALITY! This might make him popular...*cue applause as authentic as that applauded by Paula Abdul*
They think they have given the entire prize pot away. This means there is now now cash prize. So what are they playing for?
I am reeling from the shock of seeing Ally McBeal, I mean, Calista Flockhart, on TV again and now a housemate is going to win the £100,000 that's appeared in the Diary Room. Or are they? The BB website promises a fiendish twist....Hmmm. Perhaps it will turn out to be Calista McBeal...
Just had that Lesley Brain on the phone, for a story in tomorrow's People. Says she's thrilled to have any interest from "the intelligent press".
"All the popular press seem to care about is who I slept with 45 years ago," she said. "And when I say I can't remember, they seem to assume there must have been an awful lot of them."
Seemed quite nice, all in all. Although 45 years ago, she was only 15. Bit grim.
- Amanda: Carole & Tracey. She then cuddles Carole, Judas-style.
- Billi: Carole & Jonathan
- Brian: Seány & Carole
- Carole: Laura ('she's dismissive of me') & Nicky ('a fun person but very intense')
- Chanelle: Charley ('this show isn't called Charley, it's called Big Brother...and she shows all her female genitalia for no reason') & ALMOST SAID ZIGGY TWICE & Seány
- Charley: Nicky ('she's been vicious and nasty') & Seány ('he was bullying me to make me feel like I was going mad'). She then shakes Seány's hand
- Gerry: Charley ('she is the centre of every fight') & Liam ('he talks about trees')
- Jonathan: Nicky ('I can't get anything going') & Tracey ('the endless catchphrases'). He came out and said 'I know everybody here more than they know themsleves.'
- Laura: Carole ('she's probably a really nice person') & Jonathan ('there's something not right about him')
- Liam: Jonathan ('he's quite rude') & Charley ('she is a difficult human being...she talks a bit of mince')
- Nicky: Jonathan ('blokes are pervs anyway') & Seány ('why is he always rubbing my hand?')
- Sam: Carole ('she gets quite like stressed') & Liam ('I can't really hold a conversation with him')
- Seány: Brian ('he makes me feel a bit uncomfortable') & Tracey ('she can be insensitive')
- Tracey: Seány ('he's going far too far') & Jonathan ('he's creepy')
- Ziggy: Charley ('she has burnt all her bridges') & Nicky
Carole, Jonathan and Seány got 5 nominations and face the vote.
Charley and Nicky got 4. Tracey got 3. Liam got 2. Brian and Laura got 1 each.
*Imagine Catherine Zeta-Jones swallowed Dawn French. That's Laura. Oh when will I leave the playground...*
So here it is, that moment in it's full lipsmacking, possibly fingerlicking, glory. The first of many to come, I reckon. Did it remind anyone else of the moment Liza Minnelli and David Gest locked lips a la facehugger from ALIENS? Why can't I find that picture? Gerry is growing on me. Like a mole, I will have this interest checked regularly by a qualified professional.
Billi makes Ziggy look butch. Liam, Billi and Brian combined spend more time in front of the mirror than Chanelle. This is saying something. They fight for the mirror like animals round a watering hole. What do the Straightener Wars say about straight men? And who are these boys trying so hard to 'look good' for? Will Ziggy be forced to fight a duel (with straighteners)?
Jonathan, having enjoyed a good root around the snot in his hanky, spent some minutes farting this morning while brushing his teeth. There's something refreshing about this rankness. He's a millionaire--he can afford to be foul.
Earlier today Charley felt 'validated' by Seany (she was trying to say she felt 'violated'). Tonight we had a shot of her in the bathroom with her hands full of her dirty hair extensions. Like she'd taken a look at her wizened soul and pulled her plastic hair out in horror. The sink was full of it--like something from The Grudge. And THEN she shoved great filthy fronds of it in her mouth. I feel validated. Charley boasted of meeting stars from Hollyoaks and of sharing quality time with Jodi Marsh in Barbados. I thought Lewisham McDonalds was glamorous... All I ask is that if they do get to play spin the bottle underwear be compulsory and no one be cross-legged.
I'd just been watching Freddy vs Jason (don't ask... a long drive... had to turn off brain...) and the movie finishes and it's as entirely brain-numbing as one would expect. I turn over the telly to E4 for the live feed and there are melted faced monsters kissing each other on the couch. It's terrifying. You see, I thought I was awake, but I must've dozed off and although it felt like I had woken, I was still been in my dream. The smooth, frazzled face... those evil eyes... that grotesque fake/slick hair... the cat-like contact lenses....
I'm calling it 'It'. It's awful. I've not heard It speak yet. Does It speak. It's smiling, laughing... It's just kissed Laura...
One more thing: During my lovely weekend at mummy's, while taking a (necessary) break from BigBro, I watched the movie 'American Psycho'. Why is it I can't look at Ziggy now without humming 'Hip to be Square'..?
Past Midnight....I am looking at Charley really hard--staring even. I can see no clothing below the waist. Brian is also staring. Hard.
Wishing there was one housemate I could imagine having a drink with....
Billi...what exactly does he model? Hairbands? Hairstyles? Maybe he's a handmodel? Or a footmodel? He's pumping a wide-eyed clean-shaven Gerry for info. Cunning.
Liam...'Angel of the North' says Tracey (can't believe she's still in). Less attractive the longer you look but we've yet to see him in trunks. Speaking of which, he's handy with a chainsaw *hopes for massacre*.
Jonathan...NOT Noel Edmonds. Just before 2315 he blew his nose into a hanky three times. Each time he took a good long look at his own blowings, raising one eyebrow as if to say 'I'm pleased with that'. Is this why he's a millionaire?
Brian...in what world is he 19? He's asking about CLICKS when he means CLIQUES. They're not classy or coheseive enough for 'Cruel Intentions' style cliques. And the only CLICKS in the house come from Tracey's jaw and Carole's hips.
The booze has just come out, it's about to strike midnight..let's see what happens next.
81% of you failed to take my advice. You voted the most interesting, and irritating, housemate out. No more meddling, whistling and stirring. Do you know where Shabs is now? No, you don't. She could be anywhere--under your bed, in your make-up bag, behind your couch. She's an attention vampire and you've invited her into your lives. You deserve everything you get. I hear she has a Head & Shoulders contract already.
Shabs has given us her scabs and proven she's got the talent to annoy. She looks like she fell face-first into her makeup bag. Just seeing her face makes me smile (alright, wince). You might not want to share a house, or even a country, with her. But she can't hurt you from the TV. Keep Shabs, if only to punish Charley.
Tim is right about Krusty Carole--she has not lived up to our expectations. She hasn't tried to unionise the housemates or force a discussion on the division of labour or the dialectics of who gets to shower first. Not yet anyway. The potential is there--rebellion lurks in the eyes magnified by those moon-shaped pebble specs If there's a chance she might finally spill out of that bathing costume John Waters-style I want to see it (though it may be the last thing I do see).
Tracey must go. I've made this case already so I won't go on. She's harmless--like a skintag. And you wouldn't keep one of those hanging around. Cut her off. I am not sure she knows where she is so it makes no difference to her.
So far I've had three emails from people claiming to have got Greek with Gerry. I'll save those revelations for later.
Four new fools are being thrown into the frenzy tonight (I could have said feeding frenzy but that would have been an alliteration too far, even for me).
Big Brother promises a millionaire, a tree surgeon, a model and a man who's into cosmic ordering. A MAN WHO'S INTO COSMIC ORDERING!? Can it be the bejumpered prince of probability? Noel? No way.
Will the tree surgeon mistake Laura's legs for a sequioa and start hacking? Will Chanelle and Charley join forces against this 'model'? And how long before Carole asks the millionaire to fund her next knit-your-own-self-esteem group?
Time for a bit of cosmic ordering...
It's time to let you all in to what has hitherto been a closely guarded secret: Seany and I are in love. Typing those words out loud (?) seems so risky... gosh, I'm shaking! But there, I've said it. And I don't care who knows it. Yeah, even you the angry woman... and you, the man who gets annoyed too easily. We're two young, gifted and beautiful people who appreciate each other's talents. We do. It's so funny, because the chances of us actually meeting were so slim, negligible even...
I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar called 'TOP'. It had been a long shift and it seemed like everyone was ordering Caperinhas. It was so silly; all those limes having to be muddled... brown sugar EVERYWHERE! I was having a cigarette in one of the toilets when I heard this voice in the cubicle next to me.
'That smells nice. Can I come in.' At first I didn't realise he was talking to me, but he was, and thank God for that. It's so peculiar: if I hadn't let Seany into the cubical and shared that cigarette with him, we might never have had that chat about colour treatments and discussed civil unrest in Uganda. And we'd never have fallen in love. We were in there for hours; just laughing and joking and yes, there were tears too, but tears of joy. Everything just seemed so new. It seemed like anything was possible. When I eventually did decide to go back upstairs to work, the manager was furious and sacked me immediately; but who cares? It was just a stupid job. I'd had it with cocktails - Seany showed me that there was more to life than mango puree.
We went on a weeks holiday island hopping in Greece. Neither of us had ever been before and it just seemed like everyone was smiling at us - they seemed to be in on our little secret and were sharing in all of our happiness. Some locals in Paros actually laughed out loud when we walked by. Such happiness. All that was missing was the ticker tape.
When we got back from Greece everything seemed to change. We found ourselves playing football, dismantling car engines, eating pot noodles and admiring Kelly Brooke in newspapers and magazines. We'd go out to pubs together and eat peanuts, play pool and stagger home to watch Bravo. We hadn't been paying attention and somehow had drifted apart. A bit like when you're out on a lilo in Brighton and before you know it, you're lashing your arms about in a crazy manner trying to reach the nearest land mass, which happens to be Guernsey. Yes, it was just like that, but in a relationship way.
Seany phoned me one night. He said he had to 'go away' for a few weeks and that he couldn't tell me where but that I'd soon understand and that everything would become clear if I watched channel 4 throughout the summer. 'What the hell are you talking about Seanip', I said. 'Don't you care about us?'.
'I do care, and that's why I'm doing this. Don't call. Leave me so I can love you'.
'What about if Grace Jones calls asking for you?'
'Tell her I've left on a journey. Whatever happens know that I'm still me. Please hang up; I don't want to say goodbye.' And I did...
We were just so right. I guess one example of the trust and respect we had for each other is that all of the clothes, hats, accesories, etc... which Seany is wearing in the house, I made them. He trusted me when I told him he looked terrible and to lose the flannel shirts and brogues.
So, that's the story so far. It's been tough over the last week or so - but everyone just thinks about Seany. They don't realise it's hard for those on the outside too. We have to go on with our lives. We're also the victims. And we're living out a life sentence. A life sentence of twelve weeks. But I guess when you're in love, three months can be a lifetime...
One last thing, every time Seany speaks in a Northern Irish accent, he's telling me 'I love you'. He's really from Bognor Regis. He's such a faker.
I lied, one more thing. One last, last thing... He's a complete idiot - after being waxed last night by the rest of the housemates, he told everyone to do a 'bongo' instead of a 'congo'. Damn you Flatley. ARGHGHGHGHGHGHGHHHHGHGHHGHHGHG...bang.
I have a new nightly ritual. It involves being shouted at very loudly. The thing is, I haven't actually done anything to merit being shouted at. And the shouting goes on and on. The odd thing is the person doing the shouting begins each session with a finger pointed in my face and the qualifier: "I don't want to have a row, but..." and then starts shouting. Loudly. About anything.
"Good morning Charley."
"What?! Good morning? For who? F** off with your good morning."
Solutions?
I must confess, I haven't been watching much, but I caught up a bit this morning. Can't Charley talk without wanging her hands around in such an alarming manner? Her stick-thin little arms look like saplings in a hurricane when she gets truly agitated. But as for the nominations, well. It has to be Carole who goes. The sight of her in her fish-covered swimming costume after the sardines task reminded me - in quite the most horrible way - of John McCririck in his enormous Y-fronts. Big white folds and peeking hair everywhere. I need to lie down.
On the other hand, Shabnam should go simply for her non-stop gob and crimes against make-up. I like Tracey.
Okay, I admit it. I am in a youtube spiral.
Shabs On The Embarrassing Illness show
The quality isn't great but fast-forward to around 2mins and you can see the Scabs of Shabs. It's self-harm. She needs an intervention.
Oh this is just priceless...
Shabs Shaming Herself On 'Britain's Got Talent'
Shabs: 'You can call me Shabs. My talent is TV...I am mad me!' She recoils from each NO buzzer like it's an electric shock to her broken little heart....This is why we must keep her.
Just after 10pm last night.
Grooming action as Chanelle draws from the pus-well that is Chucky-Pippin-Seány.
How did she know when to stop?*
*confession: i love popping spots and if any of you have a blocked pore or awkward-to-reach blackhead I'd be happy to help.
Nicky has had it with the cooking and, not counting today's pork-pies, rations are getting low.
Gerry suggests the following solution: "From now on we'll be cooking somebody. We shall resort to
cannibalism." He goes on to salivate over "Ziggy's lean meat". We know from last night's rather frank discussion on intimate dimensions that Gerry is probably the meat master.
Would you eat Gerry? Or Ziggy? Or would you feast on Carole then floss your teeth with Sam/Amanda? I think I might starve....
 the 'real' Seány
 Chucky
Pippin, the Hobbit
The competition isn't over and the merchandising has begun...
So Tracey, Carole and Shabnam are up for eviction.
Okay, Carole looks like a Bo-Selecta Rose West. I admit that. But
she is watchable. So le'ts keep Carole--for now. Eviction is too
good for Shabnam. Her late-night whistling and constant preening
will soon drive the others to Lord Of The Flies-style cruelty. I want to
see Shabnam's head on a stick, her overly made-up eyes staring wide with
surprise. Which leaves Tracey. She (and I am still not sure she is
not a he) has to go. We know no more about her now than when she gurned
and loped her way in the house. That's because, thanks to a decade of
raving, there is nothing to know. She's not harmless, she's gormless. Release her back into the early
90s. Give her a pair of glo-sticks and a luminous vest. Let 'er
'ave it!
1234am It's thirsty work being ungrateful to Nicky and evil to Chanelle so Charley
reaches for a bottle of beer. She gets her greedy talons round it and
raises it to her mouth. Her mouth, as ever, is open. But the
bottle is not. So what does she do? SHE OPENS THE BOTTLE OF BEER
WITH HER TEETH! HER TEETH! This is despite wearing earrings that look
like bottle openers.
It's all just a warm-up for when she rips Nicky's throat out.
Well Krusty's gotta stay. Up until recently, I thought Shabnam was a dead cert to go but I like her and her hopeless rambling and her delusions of tabloid grandeur. Maybe Carole should go: she's hardly lived up to the bisexual firebrand has she? She makes Pauline Fowler look euphoric... Vote Carole out.
Dump him Chanelle. What a pile of maggot spawn Zach/iggy is.
I do hope lesbians nationwide start burning Ziggy effigies.
Laura for PM.
Does shit really spew from Charley's mouth in the way Chanelle demonstrated in the diary room just now? I liked it, but I see Charley's late night doorway ambushes of innocents trying to sleep as more machine gun than muckspreader.
Nicky is the only one who seems to be making any sense in the house. I think her worry that the rest of the inmates might see her as being 'moany' might well be the case. At least she's consistent, which is great. Consistency is a great thing.
Now, two other things about last night's show which were great:
1) the way in which the conversation between Nicky and Charley was edited so that you didn't see the full horror of what Charley was wearing until the very last moment. It was a bit like Jaws. You know; what's scarier is the thing which you don't see... WAIT, Leslie was right. She was being prophetic. She knew exactly what she was doing and knew exactly when to leave. That poor, poor woman. We just didn't understand. No-one did...
Conversation at Endemol towers:
'Sir, we've done some analysis of the activity in the house today and Leslie has predicted a 'planet killing' event some time within the next 72 hours.'
'Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's not over-react'
'Sir, we've crunched the numbers and...well Sir, it looks like she could be right'
'Well, if that's true, then God help us all.'
2) Carole - doesn't she consider herself to be some sort of political activist? Turning up at demos and the like? She doesn't seem to operate very well in a democracy though, does she? 'I'm just going to do my own thing'. That's around three meetings she's stormed out of; often crying. Crying, doing her own thing and jumping up and down in the pool as if she's auditioning for understudy at SeaWorld. And she looks like Miriam Margolyes...
For a few days I've been trying to figure out what that punky, whiny voice of hers reminds me of. It struck me as I walked to work today (roadworks and drills everywhere, since you ask) - Bromwell High... remember that? really funny cartoon set in a comp channel 4 showed last year. she sounds like one of that group of girlfriends. I rather like Nicky.
The Galloway love has passed, by the way. I cannot wait to see the twins' nominations/shrieks.
Triple sex, Pussyfoot and Satan's piss?
Charley: I see it all. That's what annoys me about me. Maybe I look too deeply but I'm always right.
Shabnam: No it's a gift. A gift.
Now, who's more annoying..?
We're going to get an eviction - who decides? Have a read
Ah, isn't that sweet.
Ugh, isn't that not.
Man, why did she have to go? So funny on BBLB yesterday. Fantasies about her and Wendy Richard fronting BBBM together/remaking Murder She Wrote together/just being vile crones together and someone filming it. Favourite Lesley moments welcome...
All you Footloose fakers - you missed the point of 'Fellas' which was Leslie wasn't going to like it one bit when new-boys came into the house. What did I say? Now sit down and behave yourself. Leslie has left the house. TOLD TOLD TOLD YA YA YA.
Mr Ladbroke give me my free money.
And they danced...
Gerry and Seany are gay, Ziggy is the land beyond gay. Oh well. They'll get jumped: the important thing is that they are male. Send Donal into that House.
He's my MP. I can't stand him being my MP. Yet he's great at BBBM, or am I just going mad? I love the way he treats like it like sermonising at a church service. This pro-Galloway feeling will pass but I must acknowledge it.
Hang on, isn't this a replay of Spooirrrul and Michael from last year: the gay guy and the wild-eyed Irish guy being at first tense and then friends? Except, the twist: the wild-haired Irishman is gay, who doesn't like effeminate types (great!, gay-on-gay homophobia, can't wait for Ofcom to adjudicate on that). I absolutely love Shabnam, so self-absorbed she rushes both men to fill them on on the threadbare details of her own life. Still, at least this sends Ziggy into a bigger tailspin: why does that make me happy? Why is Seany wearing records around his neck? Is this a la mode?
Apparently, there are two 'fellas' about to enter the house this evening to stir things up. Heaven alone knows what they'll chose as their implement...
I've decided that I'm going to be ''fella-ist' for the rest of BB. Are you pushing it out, fella? There's a world of difference between 'fella' and 'feller', so please take care. So let's talk FELLA!!! (daytime tv intro tune and montage of someone who looks like me laughing, chatting, looking serious, pointing, hugging an audience member, being chased round the couch by Ricky Gervais, then cut to 3/4 length shot with 'Fella-Talk' logo slamming down over my big stupid face).
Hi, good morning and welcome to 'Fella-Talk' What is a 'fella' and what's the correct pronunciation? Where are they from and has anyone ever actually seen one? Alive, not in books, museums or other places of think. Or maybe in the wild; perhaps at a special fella centre in Devon or the Trossachs... What do they look like? Do they have a distinctive smell? Are they available in packs of three? Can you eat one? What do they taste like? What do they sound like? Perhaps you know a 'fella' and have a story to tell. Let's hear your tales; let's lift the lid! Let's FELLA-TALK!!!!!
So, let's say that two of these creatures enter the house this evening. Is there to be trouble? Leslie doesn't react very well to new additions to her little housey. If 'fellas' come into the house this evening her eyes will probably shoot out white light, she'll start speaking in Geoff Capes' voice and a portal to another dimension will open up...probably in the region of where that suspicious target is...probably leading to her front room... where there'll be tea and cakes and stuff...and guns, lots of guns. I've put a bet on at Ladbrokes. Free beers this weekend methinks!
BOOM!
Into the bathroom with Ziggy in a towel and Lesley too - matching green ones. Zigzag is unravelling fast, like a ball of wool at the mercy of 11 cats. Shut up, boy. Stop blubbing. If this is the state of male heterosexuality, ladies you have my sympathy. |
