View Full Version : Garry Bushell Reviews On TV
THE Doc has regenerated as David Tennant. Superb. Here, exclusively, is the new Who’s to-do list: 1) Stop grinning like a loon 2) Remove Eccleston’s pigeons from Tardis loft. 3) Release whippet into t’wild…
MICHAEL Jackson has “blown millions” according to news reports. So we can probably expect a few more trials.
THE BBC held a back-slapping Bafta screening for last night’s Dr Who. Are they sure? The hit series has been fun, but it’s also been flawed by feeble aliens (the Slitheen), childish fart jokes and Chris Eccleston’s constant gurning. The sci-fi has been so-so, with writer Russell T. Davies relying heavily on lazy cheats like the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver. The hottest episodes (the solo Dalek, the Victorian gas creatures) were written by other people. Russell’s plotting is frequently thinner than his freakish cosmetic surgery creation Cassandra. His last episode was awash with nonsense: Daleks made from dead humans, the Tardis giving Rose the power to evaporate them, and to bring the dead back to life. If the time-ship is that all powerful, there wouldn’t be an alien threat in the universe big enough to worry about.
POOR Rebecca couldn’t find her ideal partner on Love Island. If only they’d flown in the pig…
BIG Brother really perked up last night. They brought in a new housemate, a bolshy Northerner who didn’t want to be there. He was bright, shrewd, rebellious. A proper handful. Sadly this wasn’t on the C4 show, but a version set hundreds of years in the future where evicted housemates were apparently disintegrated. If only… The Northerner was Dr Who, and this was TV designed by the Daleks to turn human minds to mush. A nice idea, but it didn’t really reflect the way telly is going. It was far too tame. The real Big Brother becomes dumber, coarser and nastier by the year. In just two weeks, we’ve seen bullying, endless rowing and sexual shenanigans. At this rate, future housemates will be stripped naked before entering the house, smeared in chocolate and hurled into a perpetual orgy where the groping and poking would stop only for the odd spot of random bloodletting.
BBC1’s vision of our future TV Hell included The Weakest Link hosted by an Anne Droid, a robotic Anne Robinson, similar to the real thing but slightly more humane. Judging by the Beeb’s own schedules, tomorrow’s telly is more likely to feature shows like Dance Yourself Gay, peppered with sitcoms that come not with canned laughter but a sob-track and a free razor blade. You dread to think how much worse ‘reality’ and celeb-reality TV will get. Fear Factor made contestants eat a horse’s rectum, as opposed to Kemal just being one. How long till game-show cannibalism? Telly has blurred the line between fame and infamy. People become media stars on the strength of making sex-tapes (Paris Hilton, Flabby Abi) or pleasuring pigs/married footballers (Rebecca Moose.) Big Brother’s Makosi got cosy with Anthony under the sheets not because she fancies him. She did it for the same reason Nikki Ziering gave lip service to Paul on Celebrity Love Island: to generate media coverage and keep in the game. Forget shame. Shame has become gain. What was once frowned on is now positively encouraged. Even the soaps seem to be doing away with the idea of moral consequences. People murder and sleep around with no come-back. And we lap it up. But if popular culture carries on fudging the line between right and wrong, good and bad, crime and punishment, what kind of society will we become?
ITV boss Nigel (Captain) Pickard defended the channel this week, saying he wouldn’t be resigning over the failure of “two poxy shows.” Just two, Nige? The Captain was referring to Celebrity Wrestling and Love Island. But there have been other big flops on his watch. Let’s see: Love On A Saturday Night, Judgement Day, Reborn In The USA, Hit Me Baby One More Time, Russian Roulette, Fat Families, Celebrities Under Pressure, Simply The Best, The Vault, The Real Good Life…I could go on. ITV’s decline is even more marked than BBC1’s. The soaps are their only bulwarks against collapse. They’ve neglecting their natural audience to chase younger, ‘hipper’ viewers. Hence badly-written cobblers like Monkey Trousers. ITV has gone from Jewel In The Crown to Ibiza Uncovered, from The Sweeney to Murder In Suburbia and from Benny Hill to Baddiel & Skinner. It doesn’t seem to have dawned on them that if they make Sky One shows they’ll get Sky One viewing figures.
MARY the Big Brother witch once worked in a massage parlour which offered sexual services. Talk about Bed Knobs and Broomsticks. Makes sense though, who better to handle all those weary warlocks?
Emmak2005
19-06-2005, 17:47
THE BBC held a back-slapping Bafta screening for last night’s Dr Who. Are they sure? The hit series has been fun, but it’s also been flawed by feeble aliens (the Slitheen), childish fart jokes and Chris Eccleston’s constant gurning. The sci-fi has been so-so, with writer Russell T. Davies relying heavily on lazy cheats like the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver. The hottest episodes (the solo Dalek, the Victorian gas creatures) were written by other people. Russell’s plotting is frequently thinner than his freakish cosmetic surgery creation Cassandra. His last episode was awash with nonsense: Daleks made from dead humans, the Tardis giving Rose the power to evaporate them, and to bring the dead back to life. If the time-ship is that all powerful, there wouldn’t be an alien threat in the universe big enough to worry about. Gurning? Oh like the face-pulling contests! I found the meaning behind that just out of interest, so here go's:
This British term—much better known in Britain and Commonwealth countries than in the US—has at times been applied to the pulling of faces as a competitive activity.
THAT skeleton outside the diary room looks a lot like Marco from BB5. Did they leave him locked in there last year?
ABI Titmuss never stops eating. Is she auditioning for Celebrity Fat Club?
WHAT’S The Problem? With Anne Robinson: I’d like to tell you but I only get two pages a week.
MICHELLE Bass is working for TVX: The Fantasy Channel. Hmm. If your hot fantasy involved a hamster-faced Geordie bunny boiler, wouldn’t you be better off hanging about in Bigg Street at closing time?
Emmak2005
19-06-2005, 17:49
ABI Titmuss never stops eating. Is she auditioning for Celebrity Fat Club? She's getting that way. I don't know what Lee Sharpe see in her - apart from the obvious! :sick:
Emmak2005
19-06-2005, 17:50
MICHELLE Bass is working for TVX: The Fantasy Channel. Hmm. If your hot fantasy involved a hamster-faced Geordie bunny boiler, wouldn’t you be better off hanging about in Bigg Street at closing time? Really? I saw her chum from Big Brother 5 Emma doing interviews on chatshow.net recently.
DING dong, the witch is dead! Well, ditched at any rate. Scary Mary, self-styled white witch and poisonous nutcase, was the first out of this year's Big Brother. The only shame is she didn't go via a ducking stool. God, she was weird. With her tall tales of alien abduction and her imaginary dog, Mary was crazier than a thousand frog ring tones. And hateful? Yikes. The way she stirred, stared and spread her spite it was just as well none of the others were called Hansel or Gretel. Yet Mary only went because C4 fiddled the voting – she had ONE nomination - and cos her eviction rival, cry-baby Craig livened himself up for the last 24 hours while Mary took to her bed. She leaves behind a hellish human zoo of quick-tempered, self-obsessed airheads. Initial reaction? The line-up seems disappointing. It’s almost a Big-Brother-by-numbers assortment of freaks, jerks, slappers, posers, wannabes and borderline halfwits.
The exception is gay Derek, who is hilarious. Derek must be the poshest black bloke on telly since Philip on Rising Damp. He’s camper than the Will & Grace fan club, and snobby enough to charm Frasier. There are no blondes this year and the only stilettos are worn by a fella, but on the plus side there are heaving bosoms everywhere. Saskia and Lesley are stacked like Sainsbury’s in Christmas week. And Makosi’s not far behind. She’s magnificent. I haven’t seen such bare-bottomed beauty at breakfast time since I splashed out on the National Geographic as a boy.
Two main factions have already emerged: the Lads (Maxwell, Anthony, Roberto) and the Fags, led by Kemal, a camel-faced drama queen who moans about the bitching that goes on behind people’s back while constantly bitching about people behind their backs. For the Lads to triumph, they have to charm the floating housemates into their camp – something Jason and Victor failed to do last year. It won’t happen. Maxwell is funny in small doses but too full of himself to win. Anthony is short, dim and looks like Noddy. Who else? “Science” is a fish out of water; Vanessa’s a waste of space. And women hate happy slapper Sam just cos 1) she’s flirted with Max, 2) snogged Anthony, and 3) wears a bikini all day long even if it’s piddling down. The woman is a visionary! Roberto’s OK, but there’s something not quite right about him. While Lesley, the udders from ‘Uddersfield, seems to lack self-confidence. If it comes down to a battle of the boobs, Saskia will walk it.
Really? I saw her chum from Big Brother 5 Emma doing interviews on chatshow.net recently.
Oh I liked Emma!
MARY leaves behind her hubble-bubble bath, and her broom stick – by the look of it, tucked down Kemal's trousers. She hasn’t cursed the housemates, just the rest of us – to watch and get sucked in to the yawning chasm of back-biting, in-fighting and crass stupidity that is Big Brother at its best/worst.
ONE man has saved Celebrity Love Island from being a complete disaster. Step forward Paul Danan, arguably the biggest moron ever seen on “reality” TV. Paul, part-time actor and full-time nuisance, is a master of the kind of thoughtful insight that only comes from complete drunkenness. This week he climbed into Isabella Harvey’s bed uninvited and got the hump when he couldn’t bully her into snogging him. He then came so close to provoking a punch-up with Fran Who-he, that a delighted, sorry, “worried” ITV had to send in security… Danan played Sol Patrick (the ‘at’ is silent) in Hollyoaks. Most of the others seem to have acquired ‘celebrity’ status by osmosis. Callum is Georgie Best’s son. Rebecca Moose and Flabby Titmus slept with famous people. Yada yada yada. The most dangerous aspect to the show is the possibility that they might breed.
BEV is coming back to Corrie. Hurrah. Shelley’s mum is what boozers call a “Kronenberg” – she looks 16 from behind and 64 from the front.
HILARY Kay, talking about a toy tank on 20th Century Roadshow, said: “This is the most fun a girl could have with a piece of electronic equipment.” Lady, you’ve never lived.
THE BBC strike? What a missed opportunity. We could have had Celebrity Picket Line.
JUST weeks after Blair was said to bed Cherrie five times a night, TV news reported that Viagra could make you blind. Coincidence?
JONNO Coleman went on Have I Been Here Before? Judging by his appearance the answer is “Yes, frequently” and the place is Albert’s Pie Shop, Bermondsey.
POOR Calum Best. It could happen to anyone. You go to exotic climes and spend too much time on the Loos.
NOTE to Corrie producer Tony Wood: that padlock around Craig’s neck should be put straight back on his mum’s make-up box.
RANDOM irritations: the stuck-up food critics on Hell’s Kitchen – patronizing creeps. Jane’s wandering accent on EastEnders. Pointless nobodies paraded as ‘celebrities’ (all channels). And the election: didn’t it all boil down to, which slippery weasels told the most convincing lies?
ITV could improve Celebrity Wrestling with genuine grudge matches. Imagine Posh v The Nanny, winner to fight Rebecca over the steaming hulk of a freshly pleasured pig.
DID you clock Les’s straw donkey on Corrie? It was the dead spit of Cilla: same eyes, same mouth. The donkey was marginally brighter, though…
POSH says she gave up singing for Becks. Next: Jo Brand on how she gave up modeling for her old man.
RUSSELL T. Davies? Bah! He scripted the weakest Dr Whos, an unconvincing Casanova. The writers we should value are on Corrie: John Stevenson, Debbie Oats, Carmel Morgan, Chris Fewtrell, and Daran Little. The unsung heroes of TV.
VERA Duckworth called bingo caller Sean “a little poofter” on Coronation Street. “Cut the queer stuff,” she said, “And give us a two.” Lorraine Kelly found this shocking, but hasn’t Vera got a point? Today’s TV is so obsessively gay, it’s a wonder the Radio Times doesn’t come with a pink Versace wrap and a free glass of Muscadet. Look at BBC1’s Saturday line-up. Graham Norton just wasn’t flamboyant enough for them, so they’ve brought in Julian Clary as well. I don’t mind that they’re gay, but I do mind that their shows are ill-conceived, poorly-executed garbage. Clary, a vain and shallow creature, makes a lacklustre quiz-show host. While gurning grotesque Norton is BBC1’s priciest flop since Hit The Road. Kenneth Williams must be spinning in his tin These signings, by the way, are brought to you by the channel which axed They Think It’s All Over for being “too laddish.” But what has TV got for blokes (straight and gay) who prefer a pint, a pie and a football match to a shopping trip and Funny Girls?
This isn’t about homophobia. It’s about a fair deal for fellas. We watch telly too. Straight men in ITV dramas are generally effeminate or emasculated. Two-fisted geezers like Terry McCann, Jack Regan and Richard Sharpe are a forgotten breed. It’s all drippy new men, rapists and “metrosexual” soccer players now, with walk-on parts for Richard Arnold. We get a choice between hysterical melodrama and tall tales of hen-pecked yuppies in thrall to plain but decisive every-woman types usually played by Caroline Quentin. Men in adverts are inevitably useless saps. The soaps have long majored on strong women and weak men; but ITV execs put pressure on Corrie to make it more gay-friendly. Vera and Sean represent the two souls of the Street. One down to earth and working class with the camp in-built but understated; the other screamingly out, over-the-top and tedious. ITV are so proud of Sean they’re putting him up as Best Newcomer at the Soap Awards. Even though a) Danny Baldwin is a far stronger and more rounded character – there is so much electricity between him and Leanne you can practically see the sparks. And b) flouncing cliché Sean is the weakest stitch in the Street’s rich tapestry of humour. One look from Our Jack is worth a thousand lines from the bingo bungler.
SEAN didn’t have to look far for the two fat ladies – Eileen and Fizz were down the front. But there was high drama when Vera had her golden balls yanked off. Hayley didn’t half flinch. Lucky Violet got a full house, Dev was happy with a line. As usual.
AN old familiar menace has returned to haunt Saturday night telly. Cold, full of hatred for humanity and armed with tired old catchphrases, everything about this creature is joyless and old-hat. But enough about Julian Clary; wasn’t that Dalek terrific on Doctor Who? Anyone who ever loved this show as a kid must have cheered the roof off when the chained killer realised who it was up against: “Doc-tor? The Doc-tor? Ex-ter-min-ate! You are an enemy of the Daleks! You must be destroyed…” This episode worked in a way most of the previous ones didn’t. It was well-written, not pointlessly camp, with a decent story, in-jokes (the Dalek and the stairs) and Rose running about in a tight white top. Only one element didn’t ring true: US military bods were shooting from all angles and no-one got caught in friendly fire.
BLANCHE ticking off Deirdre and Liz: “You sit there pouring over other people’s love lives for your own petty amusement. I can’t hear a word of Trisha.”
DR Who: designed for young people, enjoyed by adults. Just like Billie Piper” - Andrew Alexander
MEMO to Tony Christie: fly to Dallas, hire a car, take the IH 30 West to Fort Worth and then US 287 West. That's the way to Amarillo. Now *bleep* off.
SOAP mysteries: how did Tracy Barlow lock herself in her house from the inside? Where is she getting her ear-rings? Has Fat Pat had a boot-sale? On EastEnders, why is Dagenham Dave suddenly selling cars? He used to sell beds. Is that why Jim kipped in it? And why did Tina meet Johnny’s daughter on Thursday, shouldn’t it be Ruby, Tuesday?
I DIDN’T ask Liam Gallagher’s opinion of the grub on Hell’s Kitchen, but I heard it. He burst into the cubicle in the gent’s and threw up everywhere. Prolonged exposure to Angus Deayton has a similar effect on me. Some say he’s a poor man’s John Cleese with one tenth of the talent, but in fairness when it comes to reading other people's jokes from an autocue in a sarcastic way, Angus has few rivals. He’s shallow, snooty, and condescendingly slappable. No wonder ITV’s admen adore him, they have so much in common. The show’s not as spicy without Gordon. And swapping celebs for wannabe chefs (as in Jamie’s Kitchen) hasn’t worked yet. Do we care about the contestants? Not really. Henry’s gone. Whatever. I warmed to Kellie, Terry and Gary, but they’re not must-see. Hot in Hell’s Kitchen: Jean-Christophe’s plate rage, Gary Rhodes’s temper tantrum and Sam Rampling. She cooked my steak. Well done. Just like Sam was in the shower with Aaron. Rot: Deayton’s sneering. Aby’s attention seeking. And camp creep Simon – is he related to Marco from Big Brother?
THE cops are going to dig up Tommy Harris on Corrie. It’s the first time they’ve exhumed a decaying body since Bet Lynch came back.
IF C4 give Wayne Rooney’s missus her own property show, would they could call it How Coleen Is Your House?
Emmak2005
19-06-2005, 18:30
BEV is coming back to Corrie. Hurrah. Shelley’s mum is what boozers call a “Kronenberg” – she looks 16 from behind and 64 from the front. But she's been back nearly 2 weeks. :cool:
THE new series of Cosmetic Surgery Live raised some eye-brows. It also lifted cheeks, sliced open guts and tortured more privates than a sadistic sergeant-major. Anal bleaching, last year’s big news, seems positively quaint compared to the freakish procedures on display this week. Alexandri Barbosa, a barking mad Brazilian had his manhood sliced open and “widened with the skin of the dead.” (What’s the sales pitch? Stay harder longer with rigor mortis?) A lunatic lady-boy had his face pulled away from his skull as part of an op to look “more feminine” (pity they can’t try that on Kaye Adams). While, “Live in LA”, Tammy had “a bra made out of her own skin.” At least it won’t shrink in the wash. We saw buttock implants, vaginal tightening, and people hacked open like meat on a butcher’s slab. We also had a good look at the world’s biggest plonkers – Vanessa Feltz and Dr Jan Adams.
Five market these ghoulish images as a public service. They’re just letting us in on all the latest hip ops, they say, with a nudge and a wink. It’s all a laugh, innit? Well no. Not really. It stinks. Their gushing, uncritical approach is deeply suspect. Gruesome Vanessa and her excitable side-kick are cheerleaders for the multi-billion pound cosmetic surgery industry. And they’re basically peddling a lie. They play down all the risks and plug the myth that happiness can be bought; that ‘reconstruction’ will make you a better human being. But consider the evidence. “Tomorrow,” trilled Vanessa, “how porn star looks can get you ahead.” Cut to a shot of a crazy Yank with barrage balloon breasts - her own personal silicone valley. Lola Ferrari from Eurotrash had the same absurd implants and they killed her.
Freakish operations, largely inspired by the Brazilian transsexual scene, underline the obscene waste of money and medical know-how we see here. Butt implants, breast augmentation for men, sexier belly-buttons… This has gone beyond vanity. It’s plain nuts. (As opposed to the synthetic ones offered to female-to-male gender-benders in Florida.) Whatever happened to diet, exercise and self-esteem coaching? Cosmetic surgery can’t be stopped - people can spend their dough however they like. But when one third of teenage girls ‘want’ surgery, this shallow craze should be questioned long and hard. Or in Alexandri’s case, long and wide.
THE case against excessive cosmetic surgery in eight words: Jackie Stallone, Michael Jackson, the Bride of Wittgenstein…
WHAT killed Ray Langton, the dance with Tracy, the chat with Blanche or the shock of buying that round? He’d been in Corrie for five weeks and it was the first time we’d seen him put his hand in his pocket. His passing will go down in soap history: the Death of a Tight 'Un. Ray popped his clogs during the Hokey Cokey (before newly-wed Ken could enjoy the Pokey-Croaky.) So that’s three corpses in a month: Tommy, Ray and very soon Katy (damn, I had Rita on an accumulator). Where’s Archie the undertaker when you need him? Diabetic Katy tried to top herself with a sugar overdose. But what drove her to it? Guilt or listening to Tom's version of You're The One That I Want? Come back Arthur Mullard, all is forgiven. Will she recover? I’d put her on a glucose drip, just in case. PS. The Harris family was on witless protection to evade villains from Sheffield. So why did the cops let Katy go back there?
HAS Candice got what it takes to be a weathergirl? She certainly has enough fog between the ears.
NO danger of last night’s Dr Who frightening kids. The Slitheen looked like Tinky Winky on steroids. They were aliens who broke wind. Laugh? You’ll never start. On the plus side Rose’s mum punched the Doctor, but she still couldn’t wipe the daft grin off his face.
SMALL joys of the Royal Wedding: Trinny and Susannah leaning out of a shop window above a sign which said, “Hamptons” – more in hope than expectation. And Penny Junor claiming that Charles “would be feeling great relief” on the car journey back. Strewth, let’s hope they waited until bedtime.
KEN and Deirdre tied the knot again on Friday’s Coronation Street; mercifully not in Blanche’s neck. Can I pop a question of my own now? Did anyone really give a monkey’s? Nice folk and all that, but they’re not exactly Burton and Taylor are they? Still less love’s young dream. It’s been a mighty long time since Ken was the Casanova of the Rovers. And as for Old Croaky…what was she wearing on her head? It looked like she’d washed her hair in glue and rolled it round in a paper shredder. Either that or Jack’s pigeons had delivered a preemptive review. ITV have been going over the top about their nuptials all week, with daily reports and a Ken and Deirdre special (because there just isn’t enough soap on TV already…) But what was all the fuss about? They live together. They’ve been married before. It’s her fourth wedding, and his third. Weatherfield registry office might as well have a revolving door. They don’t play ‘Here comes the bride’ there, it’s ‘Here we go again’.
The incestuousness of Street life made it all feel border-line creepy. Three of the five fellas on Ken’s stag night had bedded his bride (so she knew who the best man was better than Ken did…) The writers made light of it but that doesn’t alter the absurdity of the situation. They over-did it with the speeches too. Public declarations, rewriting vows…these are the kind of things that only happen on telly. It felt false and forced. The Street has had a stunning run built on strong characters, tight direction and often gifted writing. But the constant pressure to deliver bigger shocks is starting to tell. The Harris family turmoil bores me almost as much as Ray ‘Living Dead’ Langton; and we’ve still got his funeral and Katy’s suicide to come. Oh joy.
Big storylines need big personalities to carry them. If we don’t care about them the highs and lows seem artificial. Corrie still rules, but danger signs are flashing. Losing Karen McDonald was a huge mistake; and many of the new castings (Louise, the twinzzz…) don’t inspire. Mercifully the Street still does light relief brilliantly. Unlike EastEnders, there are still some terrific plots bubbling away: Charlie and Shelley, Ian and Sal. And best of all…Danny and Leanne, coming soon. In every sense. That’s gonna be the best ride since the National…
HOW can ITV liven up their Saturday nights? Millionaire has long lost its must-see appeal, Stars ran out of steam years ago and Ant & Dec crumbled at the first sign of decent competition. ITV’s other entertainment ideas are about as reliable as postal voting. Recently, they’ve served up dancing coach drivers, and an hour long plug for a West End show based on a BBC comedy spoof. Queen Mania was Freddie’s finest songs mangled by assorted odd-balls and has-beens. A bad premise, a throw-away script, and Myleene Klass touted as “one of Queen’s greatest fans”. Yeah right. Shame she sounded so drab then. At least Heather Small put some effort into it. The solution is obvious: commission more Audience Withs; double quickly.
CORRIE’S Sean showed his feminine side on Queen Mania. His masculine side would be more of a find.
SMALL joys of TV: the KFC ad in the middle of Jamie’s School Dinners. Fred Elliott in the biggest hole this side of BBC1’s Wednesday night schedule. Big Mo and Minty. And losers squabbling to avoid the sack on The Apprentice.
MORE shallow than a toddler's play-pool, more over-the-top than the Somme, randier than Viv Hope on heat... Yes Footballers' Wives has kicked off a new season, as trashy, tacky, and badly acted as ever. Zoe Lucker is somewhere between terrific, terrifying and downright terrible as Toxic Tanya, the catty Queen Bitch of the Heat generation. She’s selfish, heartless and evil, our leading cartoon villainess. Last series Tanya bonked husband Frank to death and seduced dimbo David Beckham-lookalike Conrad away from Amber, his beautiful but bone-headed missus. Now she was back with a bump...Tanya and Amber were both about to give birth. Only Tanya knew that she was carrying Frank's baby, not Conrad's. How to deal with the inevitable DNA check? Simple, dimples. She got demon Nurse Dunkley to switch the babies. Amber being a Bollywood starlet, her real baby was darker. Again, no problem. Tanya bleached the boy’s skin while Dunkley applied fake tan to the sub. Sadly Amber’s pug dog Krishna, attracted by the cream, smothered the poor mite in his sleep. You’d need a heart of stone not to laugh…
This show is the TV equivalent of a Victorian penny-dreadful, lurching merrily from mindless melodrama to shocking bad taste. Earlier the footballers enjoyed a "bonding" break in Spain with blonde golf caddies in hot-pants. Inevitably they notched up birdies on and off the course. Barbarella was particularly friendly; she was the sort of girl who’d pull out your wood and niblick. In the orgy that followed she scored with three team mates and retired drunk. Before you could say "Leicester City" another player leapt in for a hole-in-one…a horribly realistic echo of those La Manga allegations.
It took Hazel (tough Chairman, and predatory dyke) to buy Barbarella off and take the moral high ground with the team. Why is this daft old nonsense a hit? As drama it’s rubbish. The villains are two-dimensional pantomime figures (all boo nasty Bruno) and the storylines are ludicrous. But the makers know we know it and that’s part of the fun. The show will only fail when it stops surprising us. Part of its appeal is the glitzy opulence. It’s Lifestyles of the Rich and Fatuous. It’s funny too; sometimes intentionally. But how long can they let Tanya come out on top? A woman this callous should be topping up her tan in the fires of Hell. But hopefully not too soon.
MICHAEL Jackson has “blown millions” according to news reports. So we can probably expect a few more trials.
lmaos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :rotfl:
finally a bit of comedy on the boards
bondboffin
lmaos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :rotfl:
finally a bit of comedy on the boards
bondboffin
That one was very suggestive but hilarious.
* POOR gullible Shelley is going nuts on Corrie. Does anyone give a stuff? The woman’s an idiot. First Peter Baldwin conned her, now Charlie. She couldn’t be more of a doormat if she had ‘welcome’ tattooed across her buttocks. The kindest thing Ciaran could do for Shelley is brick up her bedroom door and leave her there to rot.
BIG Brother has done the impossible. They’ve found new contestants even more irritating than the last lot. Take Kinga, 20. A delicate flower, Kinga seems about as shy and refined as Chris Evans with a megaphone after an all-day pub crawl. The woman is louder than Sharapova on match point. She makes wobbly-gob Lesley seem almost restrained. And witty. And slim. Kinga is half Polish, half Kuwaiti and all minger. Her first words in the house were about her “minge”. And she flashed a flabby boob within seconds of meeting Eugene (nerdy new boy, wetter than Tom Cruise on walk-about at Channel 4.) Lord help us! The final recruit is model Orlaith, arguably the best thing to come out of Belfast since Colonel Tim Collins. So she won’t last long. They’re all in the house but not with the other horrors. Big Brother has stuck ‘em in a ‘secret garden’ (well, any garden needs fertilizer) where they must survive by nicking grub from the regular housemates without being detected. Makes sense - all the show is short of is more petty rows about food.
On the plus side, Derek survived eviction by cleverly begging viewers to “put me out of my misery.” Naturally they turfed out Roberto instead and Del didn’t stop grinning for hours. (He has two smiles – one for each face.) Like most Tories, Derek’s a terrible snob, not to mention a sly, back-stabbing weasel. But he has the nous to realise that JR Ewing made better viewing than his nice-guy brother Bobby. Granted he’s deluded. Del thinks he is “feared rather than disliked”. No mate, you’re disliked. But he’s a hoot in the diary room calling the others “unbelievably awful,” adding “There's zero mental stimulation, they're all ugly.” He’s got a point. Compared to last year, this series has gripped us like a freshly greased vicar. You tune in knowing exactly what to expect: Science friction, silly squabbles, listless sun-bathing, lisping dullard Vanessa filling her face… The only hint of genuine romance has been between Craig and Anthony. The casting is the problem. Most housemates have less depth than a Polly Pocket paddling pool. Even Dermot O’Leary has taken to shouting “You’re boring, entertain us!” over the wall. He speaks for the nation. Mind you, if C4 had wanted entertainment, they would have sent in Paul Danan.
* CORRIE’S likeable newcomer Lloyd is to bed Eileen Grimshaw. So it’s a good job Craig Charles practiced sumo wrestling on The Games.
* AFTER Scott proposed to Zoe on Emmerdale she pumped him full of horse tranquillizer. I believe this is an emergency procedure developed in the ‘90s to repulse Jim Davidson.
* NOT thinking helps women have better orgasms, say scientists. Good news for Corrie dimwit Candice; she hasn’t had a coherent thought in her life. Every time she makes love the earth must move like a Richter 9 earth-quake.
* CORRIE’S likeable newcomer Lloyd is to bed Eileen Grimshaw. So it’s a good job Craig Charles practiced sumo wrestling on The Games.
:cheer: :cheer: :cheer: brillaint i love this man
:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: he has the same kind of humour as me
bondboffin
:cheer: :cheer: :cheer: brillaint i love this man
:rotfl: :rotfl: :rotfl: he has the same kind of humour as me
bondboffin
LOL :D He's a nasty pig sometimes but you got to love him!
* DANNY’S ex Carol turned up on Corrie. The woman’s an absolute nightmare. A drunken, mouthy, lush with a bad attitude…I’m amazed he didn’t give her a job at the factory.
* NORRIS is dreaming of a threesome with Rita and Emily. (Is the technical name for that a ménage a trout?) Blimey. That’s one Bishop who hasn’t been jumped for years.
* SO, fifty years of ITV…but take away the ad breaks and it’s only 43 and a half...
* DOCTORS say TV medical shows give unrealistic expectations of hospitals. True. If Casualty were real, each episode would be four hours long and patients would be waiting in a corridor for three of them, next to a drunk with a fork in his head…before catching MRSA
* BIG Brother’s Maxwell said Orlaith’s scarf was “off the hook”. Off the peg surely? The woman is shameless. Let’s vote the naked hussy out of that house…and in to mine!
* VIRGIN is piloting a new service that will let you watch Sky News on your mobile phone. Great. Now you’ll be able to see live footage of the accident you caused by driving and watching TV on your mobile…
* ON Emmerdale, Scott started to come out of his coma (hard to tell, I know). “Try not to excite him,” the nurse told Kelly. What, with her cleavage? Scott copped one look, his eyes bulged, rolled back in his head, and he started fitting. If he’d caught her with that medic, rigor mortis would have set in. But probably not all over.
* THEY had a gay restaurant on Wife Swap. Take Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares there! What gay chef doesn’t dream of going to the bar for a mouthful of Gordon’s at the end of a hard shift?
* OFCOM has slashed ITV’s licence fees. Hurrah! Next stop? Famous fatties doing d-i-y between bouts of celebrity wrestling on a love island…
IF you were dating Sarah-Lou would you be fretting about tropical fish or dreaming of a nice, wet plaice?
IF you were dating Sarah-Lou would you be fretting about tropical fish or dreaming of a nice, wet plaice?
:lol:
JOE Pasquale can now fly a plane solo. Is this a good thing? Say you’re on a charter flight, the pilot passes out and they ask if anyone else is qualified to take over. Up squeaks a familiar voice “Let me through, la-di-la-di-la”. I’d be straight out the emergency exit. I’d rather take my chances in the sea.
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