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.
I’m (kind of) a Celebrity is back- complete with creepy critters and huge challenges; and that’s just the celebs themselves. Ten million of us tuned in last night to see a group of people we’re sure we’ve seen somewhere before thrown together in an Australian torture camp. For most, it would be a horrendous dive in living conditions but for Gemma at least, it was a step up from Essex life.
The series began in the usual way; ten famous-ish faces from footballers to models to Red Dwarf pilots/cabbies to someone who once went out with that Playboy pervert; everyone had a legitimate claim to fame and spent the first five minutes talking to the screen from a comfortable cocktail providing hotel about how excited they were by the challenge that lay ahead. It is destined to be their last feelings of positivity for three weeks.
Michael Buerk, the amiable BBC news guy, was the first to arrive, followed closely by his intellectual match, Tinchy Stryder. After not quite mastering a ‘friends 4 lyf’ handshake, Michael and the Tinch got off to a heartwarming start; setting in place this year’s version of the Joe Swash and George Takei love-in. Michael is a likeable chap; himself pointing out the irony of a celebrity snob entering a celebrity reality show and, like any good journalist; he soon had former PlayGirls teaching him how to twerk.
Once the awkward ‘so erm, who are you?’ conversations were done with (‘Of COURSE I know what ‘Hello, Hello, is!’) it was time to get down to business. One set of celebrities were heading to jail (‘Not AGAIN!’ cried the legendary Craig Charles) while the other would be their rescue team.