First published 25th January 2007 on http://www.myspace.com/wivenhoefunnyfarm/blog

I have a confession to make. Last night I ran a successful comedy club, cleared up after over 80 people, fed and housed one of the acts and got to sleep about 4am. That’s not the embarrassing bit, which involves me sleeping on my sofa bed in the lounge with my phone alarm set to catch the 7.30am non-sweary repeat. However my phone battery tried to save me by sacrificing it’s life, and I woke up ten minutes too late at 8 fucking 40 am. Clearly distraught I switched to E4 and More 4, but obviously there’s some sort of saturation tax on reality TV and they were only showing the live feed. Given recent days, apart from a slightly different task, a repeat show would be difficult to distinguish from unseen footage.

The live feed in the morning isn’t scintillating stuff, although a lone Jermain pressed up against the locked doors to the garden has an almost Christlike aesthetic, a tiny hint of frustration playing around his noble Easter Island statue face. If it was R Kelly he’d be composing a hip hopera about the feeling of being trapped in a youth hostel full of unsanitary insaniacs. Come on Big Brother let Jermaine man outside.

Amusingly I’ve discovered that I was scribbling notes on the back of a Guardian Wallchart of “salad greens”, at least both wall chart and greens have their uses.

I’m pretty sure that in last nights highlights the nomination results would have been announced, which Big Brother typically prolonged; “Cleo….Dirk….” ,at which point Cleo smugly piped up “I’m fine with that.” Cleo really has her fingers on the pulse of popular culture in the UK. She thinks Face is being awkward, cantankerous and sarcastic because he “knows he is unpopular” and wants to pretend he’s forcing people to vote him out. ????? Run that one by me again? And here’s me thinking it’s because he finds the majority of the housemates to be twattish and dull. I’m starting to wonder whether “Tiara” actually has a firmer grip on reality than Cleo. If only she could have been with me last Friday watching a bar full of teenage students vociferously singing along to the “A Team” theme tune. Combine this with the dewy-eyed alco-powered thirty somethings with more memories and money than sense (explain Bez winning some other way – that doesn’t involve introducing LSD into a reservoir) and I’d say that Face has a pretty imposing fan base, despite Cleo’s and Endemol’s attempts to sabotage this. All we need to do is to mobilise this in some way. I don’t do subliminal messages but !TUO OELC DNA OJ ETOV.

I’m presuming that it still is a vote to evict given Wednesday’s fiasco where the end of the highlights showed the words “TO EVICT” next to the pictures of Cleo, Face, Ian_TWFS and Jo, but “TO SAVE” besides Shilpa’s. As a result the clueless mofos at Endemol had to cancel all of Wednesday’s votes, refunding when asked and donating any profits to charity. I’m curious as to the nature of this “charity” that’s benefiting out of the multifarious cock-ups of this series. Presumably it provides aid for unemployed reality TV producers. If enough people are insisting on getting their money back, Endemol must be haemorrhaging money, and no it’s not at all funny and is extremely bad form to laugh.

Christ it’s not even 9am and Jermaine’s already doing all the dishes and scrubbing down the work surfaces with some sort of industrial acid and plunging his bare hands into the sinister suds in the sink. For a person I immediately had tagged as a workshy OCD man, Jermaine’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, which makes him an extremely useful OCD man with hidden (and soapy) depths. Every home should have one.

Anyhow, in recent days the show appears to have plunged into a formulaic rut, so in order to satisfy any inexplicable demand for a Big Brother low-down, here’s how I imagine events on last night’s highlights show. Let me know if I’ve missed anything via the miracle of comments.

Jack sits in the corner wearing his extra special needs Jude Law face, incapable of being incapable of believing his luck. Earlier Face made the frightening prediction that Jack could actually win this whole shebang by virtue of being inoffensive. Inoffensive? Have you looked at his face, Face? “Shit,” says Face, “I come all the way from America to be beaten by Jack Tweedy. You know the famous football agent? ‘ I haven’t heard of him’, ‘well you have now!'”

Danielle accidentally eats her pillow whilst dreaming of Teddy’s face and wakes up resembling a puffer fish in a wig. With a squint. The scouse spasbot does little of discernable use besides sniggering at Jo and Cleo’s hilarious jokes about Face’s cancer struggle and near castration. “Yerriknow! Dirkkkkkkkkhhh neeerly lost his dikkkkkhhhh” she splutters clumsily, to general incomprehension.

Cleo, who appears to be morphing into Elsie Tanner, answers the door to Tiara who is armed with cable, duct tape and a set of kitchen knives. Jermaine manages to apprehend her before she can abduct and mutilate a housemate at which point in time-honoured serial killer fashion, Cleo comes to, claiming to have no knowledge of Tiara’s actions. “Oh dear, was Tiara a naughty girl again?” she simpers.

Shilpa continues to buy her way into “girls town” by helping a giggling Jo, Danielle and Cleo spike Face’s cigars with chilli flavoured rohypnol and write lipstick slogans on his supine form including “Knocking on heavens door”, “BA’s bitch”, “I wanked off a grizzly bear” , “Old twat” and “Die!”

Ian_TWFS feels a little glum so borrows Shilpa’s wings and vogues into the Diary room to demand glitter. “I don’t know why people nominated me… I’m fun fun fun!” he shrieks, performing a jig. Afterwards he has a little refreshing cry about all the bullying he’s been forced to stand by and meekly witness in the house. The public will love it Ian_TWFS. Tears of a clown.

The hapless housemates take part in a “She who smelt it dwelt it” task where they have to identify the individual components of Danielle’s diet by inhaling her toxic arse gusts.

Face and Jermaine huddle together for warmth in the garden. “What do you think of it so far?” asks Jermaine, prompting Face and four million viewers to scream a collective “RUBBISH” that causes an avalanche in the rocky mountains.

Was I close?

Yesterday morning it snowed to the delight of most housemates, including Shilpa who claimed to have never seen snow actually fall before and had hitherto assumed it . Jo isn’t caught up in this collective joy fest and mumbles that it’s probably “fake” snow. Yeah and “controlling” too. Something tells me that it’s the wrong kind of snow for Jo to get excited about.

Back on the live feed this morning a rough as fuck Cleo emerges to congratulate Jermaine on his cleaning skills, which he reveals he picked up in childhood early on to stop his dad beating him with coat hangers. He bemoans the fact that some people just don’t seem to care about cleanliness. There just ain’t no discipline nowadays.

This morning’s alarm is a grimly tolling bell, for whom we wonder? Face rolls out of bed all mussed up bedhead and crumpled Rich Hall features. “Time to pray” he deadpans to an unamused Jo, who as yet has failed to dye her hair and transform herself into a cheerful pleasantly visaged young woman. Shilpa applies her make-up around her massive shades every inch the diva (with a hint of battered wife).

I am rewarded for my diligence by a bathroom shot of the Face sans shirt, although the closest he gets to a Spartan physique sadly is the Grecian 3000 he’s squirting on his hair.

In the kitchen he relates his dream about “Scorpion people” taking over Big Brother, possibly inspiring yet another god awful M Night Shiteaman plot. Later ian_TWFS asks Face whether he has learned to respect reality show contestants more”. Face gives his chainsaw chuckle; “No! Even less he cries”. In a devastatingly articulate and libertarian speech he states that the rise of reality TV marks the end of everything that he holds dear. I’m going to put my cards on the table and admit to liking Face. With an attitude like his how can he not win Big Brother? It’s the right result and, more importantly, it’s the ironic one.

Tonight’s double eviction looms, and to cope with the anticipation I’ve devised a catchy little tune. You can all sing along to the tune of sinister Simpsons recruitment song YVAN EHT NIOJ – all together now TUO OELC DNA OJ ETOV. I’m counting on you!

QUOTE OF THE DAY: “I hate reality shows. They represent the victory of corporate mentality over creativity.” (Face tells it like it is)

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