There was more going on in the jungle last night than in Jake Quickenden’s head, although admittedly that isn’t a difficult feat to accomplish. What started off as a nice cocktail party comprising of blended bull genitals and swine anus (sounds like my wife’s cooking) ended with an X Factor reject, a rap star and a prim and proper newsreader performing the most awful yet addictive jungle ditty since Insania. Meanwhile, Edwina Currie was lying flat on her back (and not for the first time) and passing her thoughts secretively on the other campmates while Vicky Michelle was playing with toy parrots. Kendra was proudly boasting that she doesn’t remember the names of most of her one night stands and finally, Jimmy ‘BullyBanter’ Bullard became the surprise first evictee.
So where do I start with this one? Okay, okay, the beginning it is. Continue reading
Jimmy and Foggy locked in a shed together, Kendra using her thrusting head and her tongue and Tinchy Stryder trying to orienter; yes it was another bizarre 90 minutes in the Australian jungle packed full of Z Listers and critters. Don’t ask me which is which.
The viewing public had very kindly decided that we were to endure another trial full of Kendra whining (‘Oh my gawwwwd, I cyaaaan’t you GUYS’ etc) and doing little else, leaving the producers a bit narked that they were spending thousands on putting these trials together and they were hardly being used. You’d think that using her mouth in order to guarantee being fed at the end of the day would come naturally to Kendra, given her past career choice, but alas, she was barely able to burst her head through Mona Lisa before she was giving up on each segment of the trial. Even Ant and Dec were starting to lose their trademark cheeriness and you could tell that they just hoped she would get her head stuck in one of those frames. If so, could we just leave her there for the remainder of the series? Continue reading
Gemma Collins spouts diarrhoea on a daily basis, although admittedly this is generally out of her mouth. Last night, the fluorescent yellow excrement (that’s me never eating custard again) was flowing heavily from both ends, as Gemma had a bit of a dicky tummy from all of the deep fried porridge she was having to endure. Always one to play things down, Gemma became convinced that she had malaria, of all things, and, despite walking around and having the energy to constantly complain and lift Craig Charles up with her feet, she insisted that she was suffering from the killer disease (which, by the way, isn’t carried by the mosquitoes in Australia)
When she wasn’t dying from Malaria or threatening to kill herself (yes, she did that again. Tasteful) she was complaining about how much she was suffering from starvation, which prompted the amiable Craig to gently point out that they were in a better position than many of the starving people in the world. This blew Gemma’s mind and she promised never to complain about being hungry again, although I can’t see that lasting. If she thinks the hunger is hard now, goodness only knows how she will feel after 2-3 weeks on congealed rice and bean mush.