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Monday, 17 November 2008

I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!, ITV1


Did we like it?
Ant ’n’ Dec are utterly superb as ever, but the cast (as that is what they indeed are, as they have been ‘cast’ as stereotypes of what makes a successful show) are so weak that you actually pine for the dynamic duo’s links rather than watching some stale, scripted dialogue that oozes from decrepit mouths like a snake regurgitating the skeletal remains of a possum.

The I’m A Celebrity chart:
1. George Takei. Talks like a robot only recently given the gift of speech, and singularly proceeds to lament the evils of mankind. Will probably be eliminated early, impelling the widespread idiots to repudiate this perceived injustice through setting up an adversarial group on Facebook, unaware of just how feeble their quest is while simultaneously offering a horrific vision of the future where The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are repelled by the impotent gesture of 314 people putting their name down on a social networking website containing a greater proportion of unsavoury individuals than Gary Glitter’s address book.

2. Martina Navratilova. The most worthy celebrity by some distance but is unlikely to win as she won’t cry, and will refuse to weep at the hardships having grown up in Communist Czechoslovakia, which has meant that she has a Hoover Dam installed in each eyeball making tears as likely to breach her orbits as those people demanding Laura’s reinstatement in the X-Factor are to buy her single, if one is ever released and she isn’t dropped by her record company like an unwanted litter of blind kittens into a swirling weir.

3. Esther Rantzen. The embodiment of the World War One Armistice, she prematurely claimed after a little squabble, “We’re not going to make a thing out of it!” However, to maintain the peace in a programme that actively promotes conflict and bitchiness she would need the summarily introduced powers of life and death granted the Nuremburg Trials. This may seem a little far-fetched, but given what we’ve seen so far, we reckon by next Tuesday Kilroy could be perched up a tree handing down a noose for a confused Joe Swash to hang himself after failing a task.

4. Dani Behr. Resembles a budget daytrip you might buy while touring lonely Mediterranean islands where the dog-eared guidebook boasts of an opulent ruin from the era of the Roman Empire. But once you get there it’s just a bunch of scattered rocks amid which a herd of sheep aimlessly amble, while a shepherd looks at you cluelessly and points his swarthy fingers despairingly to his ears when you try to communicate with him in Pidgin English.

5. Carly Zucker. Will be able to sell her sob story of ‘Bullied by bigot – tearful Carly spills the beans on her jungle nightmare’ followed six months later by ‘Joe and Carly – a wedding made in heaven but only a heaven where all the books have been replaced by adverts for perfume’, followed a year later by ‘Carly joy! Exclusive pics of baby that looks just like every other sodding baby on the planet’, followed by ‘Fears for Carly as her outstretched leg looks slightly thinner in a paparazzi snap that’s been doctored with Photoshop to sell copies of our sordid little magazine to people whose skull cavities are so roomy they are able to store Hollyoaks scenery over the Christmas break’ and finally, ‘Carly and Joe renew their wedding vows in an attempt to resuscitate interest among people who should have all their vital organs seized for transplant whether or not they’re actually dead’.

6. Joe Swash. A wind-up clockwork toy with a mouth so wide he could sieve krill as well as a blue whale. He yappers about the place like one of those kids who are allergic to everything, but who has been allowed out of his bubble for the first time. He asked Martina is the Czech Republic “near Prague”; cannot distinguish between ‘camp’ and ‘gay’, by christening their base as ‘Camp Camp’ despite the fact that Martina and Brian are about as camp as a pair of bulldozers; was amazed that eels grow larger than those he wolfs down on a night out in Walford; and fears the “bite” of the scorpion more than its sting or pincers.

7. Simon Webbe. A gestalt entity composed entirely of teeming clichés that scatter like woodlouse when exposed to an ember of intellect. “My shyness can sometimes be taken for arrogance” is what arrogant people say when they can’t be bothered to talk to you. He was also responsible for the worst surname-warping pun since Neighbours’ Cody Willis’s “Where there’s a Willis there’s a way”, with his pitiful warning to Joe: “Don’t mess with the Si, you get caught up in the Webbe!”

8. Nicola McLean. Serves the purpose of appearing in a bikini for the delight of males who really shouldn’t breed. She and Carly have been paired-off into the same team solely so provoke a ‘cat fight’, which seems to be the fate of all young women on TV these days (but if they’re as worthless as Cheryl Cole and Danni Minogue, such a fate is deserved as they are just two tapeworms occupying the same intestine – with Louis Walsh as the malformed faeces).

9. Robert Kilroy-Silk. A man who looks like France has just exploded a nuclear bomb on his face after finding a test site to which nobody in the world objected to. He’s been cast as the predator; far too smart to start ranting about Arabs here, and so focuses his venom on Carly to undermine her dubious fame and what he suspects is her low intelligence.

10. Brian Paddick. Bottom of the pile as his fame, and therefore his presence here, is rooted in the fact he was “the most senior openly gay police officer in the UK”, which is as venerable as Prince Edward’s claim in the mid-80s of having been the most senior openly f***witted Royal in the armed forces as good reason to captain a team in It’s a Royal Knock Out.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Swash, Takei, Rantzen and Navratilova are fantastic.

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