Ready, Set, Cook! Or rather stand looking confused at a chicken, asking which part is the breast (Monty Panesar). Yep, Celeb Masterchef is back. Is it the same as before? No, it has ‘The Wall’.
Gregg’s (aka Celeb-irritant Shrek) saucer-eyes nearly expanded off his face with excitement at announcing this new development. As walls go, it’s safe to say that Trump’s one is still uppermost in people’s consciousnesses. My ten year old liked it though, so I guess it has some appeal. The pairs are sent to either side of the wall to attempt to make exactly the same dish. They can call out to each other, a la Pyramus and Thisbe, about what procedure they are doing but never the twain shall meet. Until they are summoned to the judging table of doom to see which offering looks more like a dog’s dinner. Selfish Martin Bayfield nearly toppled the wall (metaphorically rather than literally, although that would have been fun). At 6 foot 10, the pro rugby player/giant was obviously taller than any of the set designers had reasonably expected anyone to be. He could look straight over the wall. However, he is a sporting sportsman and refrained from doing so. 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.
I can see why pretty-boy model Bobby Sabel has flipped, and most amusingly, on Celebrity Big Brother and started spouting Truths to camera. All the other housemates are like children? Yes they are. Kerry Katona a nice person, but a moron nonetheless? Yes indeed. Suddenly he’s become a lot more fun. I feel too old for this CBB and am still a bit of a butterfly viewer. Jedward and Kerry Katona were the only people I’d heard of, well apart from Sally Bercow, but none of them were people I particularly had an interest in watching. Not like the year Germaine Greer walked in the house in a steely grey dress (not that she managed to stay for very long).
I still have no idea who Darryn weird hair/bizarre sixpack implant ‘Paparazzi’ Lyons is. I’m vaguely aware of My Big Fat Gipsy Wedding, but only remember vast pink fairy light lit dresses, not the formidably hard looking Paddy Doherty, a man who talks about ‘servicing’ his wife as a substitute for any housework (although to be fair, when he spoke to her and their daughter on the phone in the diary room on their anniversary, he was very tender with them). And I’d seen The Only Way is Essex once, so I’d heard of Amy and her vajazzling technique (from which she’s been dropped as the ‘face of’ I read here). Having been brought up in a household where saying ‘fart’ brought a stern telling off for mentioning bodily functions, I quite enjoy her straightforward attitude to bodies and sex, with frequent references to her ‘ninny’. Paddy doesn’t quite embrace this openness tho’, and his face was a picture when she was patiently explaining to him what a ‘camel-toe’ was. Afterwards he told the other lads that women ‘just shouldn’t talk like that’. I’m guessing Mrs Doherty’s ninny only comes out to be ‘serviced’.