Sorry, don't know what happened then. Stupid PlayTV.
Anyway, Sally was out. Told you so.
It's time for a live eviction. Woo.
Oh look, its Brian, the nervous floppy armed honk. Slightly better hair this week. That is the only improvement.
Then the longest recap in the world, making the 'live' label of the show rather redundant.
The slebs continue to be dressed in Oz gear, which is good because it means I hadn't eaten cheese and gone bonkers last night.
Not sure which is the kinkiest image, scarecrow Amy or munchkin Tara. Maybe I could toss a coin...
But, enough tossing...
Paddy said 'sausage' while dressed as a dog. No doubt trying to get a job with Walls.
Jedward were dressed as gnomes, and one of them had a bra on his head. I cannot comment on this.
Bad Bobby thinks the reason he should stay in the house is because he 'has the most to learn from the experience'. or most likely to stab everyone with a spatula.
Kerry thinks she should stay in the house because she is 'a bit of a laugh and blah blah blah blah and a bit of a laugh.'
Sally wants to stay in to piss off the Daily Mail. And er...
...thats it. I don't like her.
Pamela then had to prove her bravery against a scary leprechaun, armed with polystyrene cups. Well, I say scary... kind of like Will Ferrell on valium with a croaky voice. She passed, without gaining any stigmata. Irritatingly.
Then everyone went to sleep, apart from the Fruit Shoot gnomes. Who proceeded to be noisy irritating bastards, waking Amy up, shaving foam attacking Evil Dorothy Bobby. Such a bonkers bit of telly, a cross dressing bearded Dorothy chasing a squealing gnome around with a hand full of white gooeyness.
The Wizard of Oz task, sponsored by Neurofen Plus (read the news, kids) was passed, despite the best efforts of Kerry, fag addict and Paddy the dog.
A party ensued, meaning Bobby got to hide in a mattress fort, probably making evil plans. Tara showed everyone how to dance, by staring at people like a bonkers fool. Kerry did a little wee. Lucien possibly came in his pants.
And there you go, that was last night. Eviction time...
And my tellybox just crashed. Hang on a minute. Fucks sake...
In the aftermath of Bobby becoming evil, Darryn spent Wednesday's show trying to dig himself out of a well of hatred, probably straining his fake tummy lumps.
Bad Bobby showed no regrets for basically destroying Bibendum, and may well have saved himself from eviction.
Evil is fun when it battles evil.
The poor weather put the slebs on a downer, as they lounged about talking their cod sleb philosophy. Mostly, this was a pile of nonsense, removed of all credibility as the slebs' hairdos got gradually more 'in progress' throughout the day.
Amy decided she didn't like Bad Bobby, a feeling that is apparently mutual, and will probably result in friction and Shenanigans later in the series.
Mrs Hoff displayed an inability to cook nice looking food (although to be fair, I thought it looked Yummy, but ill eat any old shite) or pronounce the word 'risotto' correctly
Rizz-oh-toe. Shut up.
Jedward ate beans in a sauna as the mood in the house made Tara cry. I don't know whether it was the impending and inevitable arguments or the heated Irish clone darts, but obviously something needed cutting with a knife, tension or methane.
The daily task split Jedward into two people, through the use of electrodes and spandex. This was as immensely hilarious as idiots in pain always is.
The twins did seem to struggle being apart, and even referring to themselves as their actual names.
As funny as watching a couple of day-glo condom men giving each other anal electric pain.
Paddy gave Lucien relationship advice... "a hefeluhga meermer per pussycat doll fluffanuff"
One of the Jedwards had a fake wedding, marrying Amy. Basically an excuse for a slow motion shot of Amy's knockers in a corset. The other Jedward looked slightly suicidal at the thought of losing their twin. Although to be fair, in a week or so's time he'll be getting a blowie off of Tara.
Everyone then got pissed and bitched about their fame and subsequent press coverage. Like a vicious circle of famous money bullshit.
Bad Bobby continued to go evil, talking to a camera window, calling Kerry 'gross' and everyone else 'fucking children'. Why he didn't go in the diary room for a rant is beyond me, but he then proceeded to wander round the house chuntering to camera windows like a tramp who's lost his shoe.
He is now Beyond Bonkers Bad Bobby.
And he will get worse.
Footnote: my missus says she doesnt like Kerry's rabbit jumper. This is her contribution to be blog.
So, the highlight of last night's besides Jedward pissing everyone off by giving Amy a wedgie was the bizarre and unexplained transformation of Bobby from uninteresting beautiful plank into some kind of loudmouth twisted evil genius. It's like he's been some kind of sleeper agent waiting for the right codeword, inadvertently mumbled by Paddy (fantastic 'sausage' mumble last night).
Dismissing Amy as a gold-digger, and basically coming across with a basic hatred of everyone, I foresee Bad Bobby treading the fine line between 'entertaining bastard', saving himself from eviction, and 'fucking bastard', getting some kind of 'vote him out' campaign going on by the crazy people who actually vote on such things.
Other highlights from last night include more shots of Darryn's scary 8-pack, Sally Duvet attempting to make a cleaning rota, causing the housemates to react like she'd just written Mein Kampf in veal blood.
So, there you go. Bad Bobby will destroy the universe.
Missed Sunday's show as I was all knackered from seeing monkeys, but caught up today. What did I miss?
- Darryn showing off a bizarre fat six pack. Confusingly odd. Almost as fake as Tara's boobs.
- Tara giving Jedward and Jedward erections by quoting the Big Lebowski
- Mohammed Al Fayed popping in to drop off some perve at the girls and give them his number.
- One of Jedward not being able to get up when tied up. This may prove useful when I kidnap them...
- Paddy getting all upset after talking to his kids. "ah ferm Ye bollocks".
- Darryn's life story. Zzz.
- Lucian making a Hot or Not list, interrupted by Kerry walking in... "yeah I do watch cricket." He says. And he is a well paid actor.
- Egyptian costumes and booze. What a fantastic idea. Oh dear.
- Lucian and Amy's not at all deliberately forced romance continues to continue... zzz.
- Tara doesn't like Darryn. The first sign that she has a soul.
- Bobby the Moggle continues to nod and smile, like he knows what is happening.
Think that's about it... didn't miss much. Prefer monkeys.
So, bollocks all happened on last night's show.
Jedward did a few random acts of Wowshit, but other than that nothing.
What we basically got was the middle of the first day, between Friday's round up and the final few minutes of Saturday's show, about eight hours of nigh on Bugger all.
So, instead of listing the various activities performed by Messrs Jedward I instead post this picture I took at Trentham Monkey Forest today. See if you can match any of the monkey faces with the slebs on tonight's show, and maybe shout them out to annoy your sister in law, who is trying to do a sudoku.
(To be honest, this is about all you're gonna get on a Sunday. Sunday is my busy day)
So, we get the slebs coming down a big walkway, well out of reach of the screaming plebians, filmed from below on the off-chance we might see their knickers, as they make their way to Brian, only to ignore his pleas for attention and pose for the cameras, causing the poor little choirboy to stand in the background pouting as once again, the papps attempt to see nipples or better.
So, who have we got in the house?
First in is former Nuclear Pussy, drunk interviewee and everyone's favourite bankrupt tv star, Kerry Katona, sporting a "i am so annoying and random woo hoo" attitude along with Yazz's hair. She handles herself quite well, obviously adept at such reality shenanigans, and doesn't make me want to stab her face off with a brick.
So, they dump recovering alcoholic Kerry in the house filled with Champagne and welcome Sleb number two...
Tara Reid was in American Pie, Josie & The Pussycats and no other movies that I have seen. I thought she'd been in the remake of Day of the Dead, but that was Mena Suvari. Thats a bloody awful movie, I could have done better using a flannel. Anyway...
Tara has aged well in the intervening years since she actually did anything, although she does look like she's suffering from a twelve year hangover. When Brian interviews her, she alternates between confused, bewildered and GIN!!! and croaks along accordingly.
When she gets to the top of the steps, nervously defying gravity due to silly shoes, the doors don't open straight away. No-one notices, but Tara makes a note to remind us for the rest of the night.
On a bonus note, I don't think she was wearing any knickers.
Next in is Father Jack from Father Ted, cunningly disguised as Paddy the scary gypsy from My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding. Fortunately I had subtitles on because the only word that actually made sense out of the utter babble that he mumbled was the word 'bollocks'.
Clearly, he's been included in the house to stir up some sort of middle class outrage, although I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up being the grumpy old man, sat in the corner tutting.
On entering the house, he mumbles something at Kerry, she seems to recognise him. Tara recounts her door not opening story, sounds like she's already finished the first bottle of lambrini.
Next in the house is semi-professional pair of breasts and everyone's least generic woman from The Only Way Is Essex, Amy Childs. She ignores Brian better than anyone else, and successfully gets Big Brother a three page spread in Nuts.
On entering the house, she sees her friend Kerry desperately getting everyone drinks, like a party host who knows that if he doesn't stop serving his guests he'll end up plastered on brandy. Tara tells Amy about the door, Paddy might or might not know her, I think he said "arse feck girls".
Next in is 'Mr Papperazi', a fat bloke called Darren who seems to be trapped in the darker, more sinister end of a mid-life crisis. With his 'wacky' pink mohican and 'crazy' clothes, I predict he will emerge as a right boring idiot. Either that or he'll get stabbed.
Tara is now well past tipsy by the time he enters the house, as she says she recognises him from "Princess William's wedding". Kerry and Amy eye him up like he's shit on Satan's shoe, and Paddy mumbles something, probably about kicking Bishop Brennan up the arse.
Next in is Mrs 'The Speaker of the House of Commons', who controversially wore a towel once or something.
Clearly she's just bored with being the wife of someone important and boring, and just wants to slag herself about a bit, because she is all 'independent' and such. Silly bitch.
Only Darren seems to recognise her when she goes in, probably to her annoyance (this is 'wacky independent dressed in a duvet' lady after all). Kerry performs her duties as party host adequately, as Duvet says she doesn't drink - "what do you want? Water?"
It's a sad day when even Kerry Katona won't offer a Panda Pop.
Next in was 12-year old Lucian from Corrie. With a pair of curtains tucked into his trousers he appears to be filling in the token black/young/end-of-rather-than-beginning-of-career slot that none of the other housemates seem to fill.
No doubt be expects a bit of sex from the experience, what with all the slaggy girls and no competition. He'll be disappointed I reckon...
Besides, I thought there was a curfew on teenage kids from Manchester at the moment... lets hope there's not a Poundland in the BB house or it might get looted.
Next in is Pamela Something-Hasselhoff. Drunk as a fish in a barrel of ethanol, not only did she attempt to dry hump Brian into a sweaty heap she also nigh on lost control of her über-platform-shoed feet up the stairs. I really doubt she'll come out of this experience with a modicum of respect and/or dignity. She had the most bonkers quote of the night, entering the house she was "as you Londoners say, I'm Norkered."
norkered (n. naw-kord) Something Londoners say.
Following her was an incredible beautiful piece of plywood man, that appears to be there purely to make my missus frisky. Not sure what his name was though, I missed it over all the panting and wolf-whistling. Personality of a slice of dry toast, mind. Burnt dry toast. No doubt he'll be in love with one of the girls by the end of the series, thereby scoring a spin off 'The Next Chapter' show. That only women will watch.
That damn hateful gorgeous hunk bastard.
The Archdukes of Wowshit themselves, the Jedward. Conjoined twins sponsored by hair gel and fruit shoot. Bouncing around in teddy bear shoes with Tony The Tiger cloaks and the wonderfully naiive attitude of a nine year old in a sweet shop. The walking e-numbers walked on to an equal mix of boos and cheers, and will no doubt leave to the same.
I will be cheering them, mind. For some reason, like watching a fly trying to escape through a pane of glass, they are infintely watchable. And for some bizarre reason I think they deserve greatness.
Oh, and they were wearing Jeggings too. Which is just bonkers.
For some reason, Tara failed to mention the non-opening door to them. Probably she suspected they would produce Fisher Price tool kits and attempt to fix them with a plastic spanner. Either that or she was past the point of talking like a human.
Gotta love lambrini.
So, a full twenty four hours late according to the billboard ads, we got the return of Big Brother, which we were promised had been killed by viewer apathy and Davina McCall getting fed up that she couldn't do anything else on tv.
But no, it was revived by the disputed-only-by-itv2 king of tv clag, Channel 5 and kept from getting musty with the strategic and somewhat desperate sponsorship of a moisturiser and zit cream peddler.
Instead of Davina, we get her slightly-more-feminine pet, 'Ultimate Housemate' (read 'best of a bad bunch') Brian Dowling, stood rigid, clinging onto his oversized 1970s microphone like he's about to fall to his death if he let's go.
His kid-friendly Graham Norton act comes across more like a dazed Song for Ireland presenter than prime time populist host.
He wasn't helped by the duck's arse on his head, which served only to make his wooden delivery come across like he's been asked to read an essay about Red Indians in front of the whole school, but he spent too long learning about cowboys.
Marcus, the voice over guy has returned, this time employed with providing a much more sarcastic Come Dine With Me Attitude, spoiled somewhat by the forced inclusion of the word 'chicken'. Because he says it funny.
So, anyway, we get a quick glimpse of the gimmick-free (for a change) house, with its designer furniture (DFS has designers, yes?) as well as gym, steam room and pool, included no doubt to keep the celeb ladies toned and their photos printed in Nuts magazine.
And then we get the rogues gallery of failed stars, reality tv types and wannabes...
(To be continued)