First published 8th January 2007 on http://www.myspace.com/wivenhoefunnyfarm/blog

Jackiey crumples on a single bed, a montage of snotty tissue and mad gollum eyes. Even her flailing beeblebrox arm somehow manages to clench a fist. Someone has thrown her eggs away (perhaps they should have thought of that pre-Jade?) and now she will go hungry, and when she’s hungry she fears that she can be a bit insania and shouty (um – maybe she needs to be on a permanent drip?). No – she doesn’t want a croissant or fruit or anything else the housemates offer to rustle up for her. Careful Jackie, I tried this method of attention seeking when I was seven, and it ended up with me being taken at my word and NOT getting a strawberry cornetto.  Besides croissant makes for a less sulphurous arse-cloud , which perhaps was the real reason Carol chucked the eggs, despite muttering about the disgusting waste involved (why don’t people simply refuse to destroy perfectly good food on television shows – surely it’s not party pooping to object  to it. Ooops careful now, I was nearly taking this shit seriously.

In the scullery Danielle is in floods of tears. Is it existential angst? As close as she’s gonna get, in that the servant task (of 4 days – count em) has reminded her that her old dad has spent his ENTIRE LIFE getting up at 5am to keep his little girl in bikini waxes and hair extensions and tickets to “Cream” – and he’s still doing it. You’d think she’d start paying back. “I’ve never done a day’s work in me life” wails the Scouse princess. Cruelly the edit shows her asleep in bed 5 minutes later.

It’s all too much for dear old Ken who gets himself a biccie and some smashing cheddar, only to be berated by Jade for being an evil potential servant depriver. Ken hasn’t slept well – denied the luxuries of warmth and fresh fart-free air thanks to Jackiey – and is in no mood to negotiate with Jade. He actually adds half a thimbleful of postmodern, winky fun to the tiresome Catherine tate mantra “is my face bovvered?” by quoting it to Jade Goody. Although Ken is merely taking the piss, I actually start feeling sorry for Jade – who in her childlike, backwards way is actually trying to be nice. Then I recall that she’s a grown woman who has become wealthy due precisely to her almost wilful inability to express herself. Her little cheeks redden and the eyes tear up – like a frustrated 5 year old that an adult is beating (in an argument). Stop it Ken – it’s like arm-wrestling a Jackiey.

Ken’s exit is dotty but dignified. No faffing about – just a rather sweet goodbye and the startled realisation that he’d left his slippers under the chaise longue. They should have sent a Red Setter into the house to fetch them for him. Stay classy Ken!

Faceman continues to delight me with his summary of the situation: “Now I’m the oldest person in the house – I’m going to get the respect you all gave to Ken”. He is being ironic. It’s a wonder to behold. That and his daft low level flirting with Shilpa and his constant pisstaking of Leo(tard ) (- thanks Guardian Online). Stick a pair of glasses and a Northern accent on Leo and he’s Ray Stokes out of When the Whistle Blows. He sprawls open- legged telling Dirk and Danielle (and anyone within earshot) how he’s really “one of the girls”, because “women are the greatest SPECIES” (eh, Leo? Compared to chickens, great danes and shetland ponies?), and because of his unique feminist insight all women consider him as “Mr No Threat“. Even dippy Danielle considers popping into the diary room to request a can of Mace and some bromide at this point, especially when Leo (in all seriousness) talks about having lustful thoughts for her jacket. What next? “Shall I give you a breast examination? It’s OK I’m one of the girls”, “Anyone need a smear test? You can trust me I’m Mr No threat”. A quid says that within the week, Leo will be discovered writhing naked against someone’s silky kimono* singing “If I was Ur Girlfriend”. *Hopefully Davina’s.

Jackiey does her idea of a catwalk strut in a brown jersey flowing number, and my eyes will never forgive me. Even her legs seem slightly “leg-mental” and although her arm injury was apparently from a “crash”,  I idly wonder if she has a “problem” with her veins (it would be easier to comprehend Jackiey if she’s a junky – and explains the “medication” line). Later she reveals how she was a “clippy” – i.e. offered men sex, took their cash and “fucked off” (in her words). I’m nearly left as speechless (but less annoying than) sulk-mode-Leo, although not as speechless as “silent Jack the model boyfriend”,  by this admission – although to be honest any of Jackiey’s potential punters must look at her in the cold light of day and figure that for her doing a runner it was money well spent.  

Oooh look it’s Alf Garnett and Min Reed come to visit the house! Oh no it’s yet more clan Goody, but this time it’s pensionable. John and Sylvia, Jade’s grandparents, seem sweet and normal, and then John rolls up his sleeves and you notice the massive tattooed wrists and the old style gangsta bling. The whole bizarre dinner party is strangely reminiscent of the family meal in the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. If Ken had stayed they could have offered him a hammer to off Shilpa with. As all politeness in the room disintegrates and everyone mocks Jackiey, Shilpa collapses into the psychotic hysterics of someone who has been forced to live in a nest of wolverines for 5 years and, desperate for human company, is introduced to George W Bush in a Klan uniform. Even Jermaine joins in with the lack of airs (apart from the ones from Jackiey’s back passage) – the normally well-spoken Jackson nearly slipping and saying “we was” rather than “we were” and being overly impressed by John’s “Shut your gate” to Jackiey, not to mention the “colourful” description of John subjecting his wife to a “Dutch Oven” . Good lord save them they’re going native. We’ll have to send Martin Sheen in to machete them to death.

After a almost heartwarming diary room scene with John balancing Jade on one knee of steel –  his missus on the other whilst politely thanking the cooks (unfortunately it comes out “thank the cocks”). John and Sylvia leave, the former proving how nails he is by being able to walk afterwards. Don’t call him granddad whatever you do!

Leo who has been serving the family throughout this delightful occasion returns to the scullery. “Bunch of fucking CUNTS” he hisses, explaining that whilst the family were “sweet” they weren’t the sort of people to serve a banquet too. He congratulates himself on deliberately served them slowly so that their food got cold. Classy work Leo,  you snobby little prick. I so look forward to watching Dirk own your sorry ass (in an ironic way) until you get voted off and exit the house to complete silence you minge-haired, laughter-free, priapic homunculous.

The highlight of last night (and possibly the whole series) was Ken Russell on Big Brother’s Mouth. From the moment he started mouthing the words from Russell Brand’s autocue for the intro bit (Russ! I thought it was all just you improvising from your Dickensian sexbeast heart! You SWINE!) to him throwing his sandals for women in the audience to lick (Ken: “It’s not a sandal – it’s a scandal“), begging people to lick his big silver knob (of his walking cane, you filthy minded things!), to him going all Benny Hill in a “Mr THREAT” stylee and chasing a nubile lovely back to her seat, knocking over his own chair and devastating most of the “studio” – Ken completely stole and subverted the show. This will be shown on “embarrassing TV” top 50 filler fodder shows for all eternity – aiming to represent Ken Russell as a doddery old fool, but the fact is he knew exactly what he was doing, and the look of fear in Brand’s normally cocksure eyes (as well as his muttered whimper of “for fuck sake”) was a joy to behold. If I was down with the yoof like Jermaine’s brother I’d say it was a definite pwning.

Quote of the day:  “I was told it was Celebrity Big Brother, but it was Nonentity Big Brother” (Ken Russell on his impressions of the show). *

*There is of course the obvious comeback “That’s why they invited you”, but I’ve seen The Lair of The White Worm and think Ken is worthy of far greater accolades than the word “celebrity”.

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