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| Grace Dent's I'm a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here! blog http://www.bbfans.co.uk/viewtopic.php?f=41&t=32190 |
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| Author: | Madeline [ 09 Nov 07, 21:45 ] |
| Post subject: | Grace Dent's I'm a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here! blog |
I'm a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here! is back on Monday! Ta-dah…so here is the rumoured line-up. I am so excited! Richard and Fred Fairbrass from Right Said Fred. Oh, imagine them and their brotherly bond peddling bikes across cavernous drops? Sigh. And tikka-shade velocrapter/model agent Janine Dickinson! And Katie Hopkins from The Apprentice (I will never get tired of watching her nibble a kangaroo bum-hole with a face covered in maggots). And Christopher Biggins! And Beppe from EastEnders. And celebrity chef John Burton Race (I have no idea who you are and I watch telly all day, sorry). But wait up...OMG- it's J from Five (that's the one who was always about ten years older than the others, who looked like a electrician from Halifax who'd lost half an eyebrow in a accident). And Gemma Atkinson from Hollyoaks…oh, you know her? The blonde one who used to walk about in her knickers. The one who dated the footballer in real life? The thin one with the boobs? Am I not making this easy enough for you? OK - what about Koo Stark, who was once Prince Andrew's "lover" and spent the entire 90s being painted as a shameful hussy for daring to hang around royalty and not be a virgin. And Malcolm McLaren - "national treasure, English eccentric, doesn't suffer fools". I occasionally see him in Camden dressed in tweed plus-fours looking like a confused Edwardian fop who has been spewed through a time tunnel. Can't wait to see him digging a latrine. And Cerys Matthews, ex-Catatonia, who is definitely not doing any reality shows RIGHT? She's just gone through a divorce and left America with her kids so is totally in the right head space to jump out of aeroplanes and be buried alive with rats and spiders. Rodney Marsh - an old footballer who I can't muster any enthusiasm for. And Lynn Franks who will be thrown out first for being an intelligent opinionated woman, while Janice Dickinson stays week upon week quacking on about how Sylvester Stallone apparently bought her her first boob job. I am not going out of the house for three weeks. This will be the best reality TV ever since they put Pete Burns in a house with Dennis Rodman and George Galloway and then arrested his gorilla jacket. Stay tuned… Next week I'm a Celeb…! special… radiotimes |
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| Author: | Madeline [ 17 Nov 07, 17:26 ] |
| Post subject: | |
It's like a jungle sometimes As Dean Gaffney took centre stage at the National TV Awards last month, enjoying wild applause, it was clear his career had experienced some type of epiphany. The audience of TV bigwigs loved him. They lapped up every syllable of his little speech as he collected the award for "best reality TV show". Things were different now Dean had been in the jungle. OK, yes, he did still resemble a mass of ruptured scar tissue trapped in a Moss Bros ex-rental tux. Yes, some drunks at the back still shouted "Oiiiii, Robbie! When did you last get off with Wellard?", but all that didn't matter so much now. Because since Dean Gaffney did that "head in a sink of bugs" challenge, we've all decided he's a good sort. You can turn your life around on I'm a Celebrity.... It's not like Strictly Come Dancing where, the harder you work week after week to wow the public, the more you look like a deluded diva with clown's feet and a sad soul aching for approval. Meanwhile, you put Gemma Atkinson from Hollyoaks in a baggy T-shirt and trackie bottoms, and make her sit on a log in among nettles being humble for three days, and suddenly even bitter, less pert misanthropes like me think she's quite sweet. One week ago I'd have paid good money to see Gemma on the front of the Daily Star with her size eight body and 34D boobs getting stung to death by killer bees. Now, I think she's quite sweet. I'm sure Katie Hopkins (ex-The Apprentice) is hoping for some of this turnaround magic to rub off on her. She'll be bloody lucky. She's already started the usual "I am a trained killing machine, fear my wrath, weaklings!" demented twaddle. For someone who obviously wants to be liked so very much, it's a shame she's just so intrinsically dislikable. "I can run faster than any man in there! And I'm stronger than any man in there! And I am fitter and if anyone tries to beat me they won't as I'm physically fitter and..." Oh, shut your silly postbox-coloured face, you daft woman! No-one cares if you could beat Jet from Gladiators at roly-polies and handstands! It's not a deal breaker, friendship-wise. And I don't care if you can run faster than me! Of course you can run faster than me. If I had your dark problems personality-wise I'd want some sort of big rush of endorphins to the head to block it out too. Y'know all this "I am the Terminator - watch while I blow up that car with my radar irises!!" business? Katie, why don't you just give it a break? I find actually being nice to people helps with making them like me. For example, when I want to be friends with someone? I try to be pleasant and caring. I don't ring them up at their office and go, "Look out of your office window! I'm outside doing one-handed press-ups! Do you like me now? How fast do you think I can do 100 metres hurdles?!" Of course I don't. Because that would be mental. Katie also says she'll be great in the jungle as she "loves the outdoors". And this I can confirm, as I saw the pictures of her in the Sunday papers enjoying "nature" with her friend, and she certainly brings new meaning to the phrase "ramblers' thoroughfare". Malcolm McLaren has bailed already. That's really disappointing, I thought he'd have some good rock 'n' roll stories. But saying that, every time Janet Street-Porter opened her gob to tell an amazing story on live feed they used to silence her anyway. "'Ere, this reminds me of the time that I went to meet Kraftwerk for the first time, right? And it was amaaaazing cos some of the Velvet Underground turned up at the party and then..." Every time, just as I'd grabbed the control and turned the volume up, she'd be silenced by the powers that be. I love Janet Street-Porter. I am the only person ever who has written a column saying I want to hear more of her voice. Apparently Malcolm quit I'm a Celebrity... as he said it was all fake and there was no real danger. He must have thought that him and J from Five were going to get rocketed out of a plane into Somalia, then forced to yomp through rebel territory surviving on only street dog and each other's urine. How dull to realise he was being driven in a taxi to a TV set in the grassland around the back of a leisure complex to take part in what is essentially a boiled rice and "coping with constipation" contest. Likely winners to me so far seem like Cerys Matthews or Janice Dickinson. I've always had a soft spot for Cerys, ever since I first saw her on TFI one Friday night in the early 90s with Catatonia, wearing an amazing frock and heels, belting out Mulder and Scully live. Cerys is a one-off. I laugh to think what her new ex-husband must think as she giggles and flirts in the jungle with her brand-new boobs and teeth, surrounded by D-list celebs, playing the celebrity game on primetime terrestrial TV. What was all that about moving to Nashville and getting away from everything and hating fame, Cerys? Never mind, I'm glad to have you back. It's brilliant watching you with Gianni di Marco. There's nothing to cheer you up after a bad break-up like a six-foot-tall, built Italian who can make you laugh, while hinting at probably spraining various parts of you back at the hotel afterwards. Incidentally, if Marc Bannerman's girlfriend is watching this, I can recommend the extra-strong drawstring binbags for bagging up all his stuff. Very satisfying thud they make as they fall from a second-floor window, take it from me. Janice Dickinson has flummoxed me. I'm slightly in love with her. I know that she's a maniac. And loud and aggressive and obsessed with high-fiving and saluting and quacking about team spirit. But she's funny and caring and actually rather self-aware. A parody of how she thinks we all want her to behave. This show would be so hideously dull without her. The bitch looks better in tanga briefs and no make-up aged 53 than I did at 17. I like that on spotting Katie Hopkins, she just curled the last millimetre of her lip that still has movement and hissed, "If she gives me any crap, I'll slap her". Slap her, Janice. Slap her silly. Posted by Grace Dent radiotimes |
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