Incontinental Holiday

It was a sad house after Seány departed with his pink daisy and bike padlocks. Only a knobbly knees contest and the fact that they were lucky to get a Charley-free weekend cheered them all up.

Charley and Brian were packed off to the Big Brother caravan where the South London charmer swore and whinged for 2 days while Brian just lay around doing embarrassing teenage boy things. His sleeping bag was alive with farts and fidgeting but the bed wetting incident was the final straw for Charley and the holiday came to an abrupt and soggy end.

Even in a week with luxury food budget Nicky managed to throw a wobbly over a few meatballs. I think she’s got meat on the brain right now but I’m not sure that painting her eyes with liquid paper is impressing Liam. She did get up close and personal with him to discuss their bodies but that backfired too as he discovered she has more chest hair than him.

True romance, or not. I like the Chiggys. I’m sure it won’t last beyond their Heat magazine cover but it’s nice to see people down each others throats instead of at them.

The sleeping task was a disaster of Battlefield Earth proportions. Charley surrendered "because otherwise I'll be downright rude." I’m not being funny but what’s her excuse when she’s not tired.

As they got more and more sleepy on the bean bags the fighting escalated and despite everyone apart from Nicky being keen to give it a go, it soon became clear that none of them are insomniacs.

It’s ironic that they can all stay up until the crack of dawn most nights without a single prompt from Big Brother but give them a formal task like this and they’re dropping off like drunks on the last train home.

Charley was up for nomination and then she wasn’t. Thanks to her punishment she avoided the public vote but still managed to shout and scream at anyone who looked at her the wrong way for the next 24 hours. I’m not being funny, but it isn’t any longer.

How uncomfortable did Billi look when he was forced into that Happy cupboard with Charley. There was more love at the recent East 17 reunion!

Amanda’s pie and a couple of colanders confirmed that the twins are indeed psychopathic. Oh my God I always knew there was something strange about that pink pair. They’re like The Stepford Airheads only they do real, full on dumps!

Talking of pink. I reckon BB ought to have a word with Carole. She was trying to cover her modesty today with her blue towel over that stripy swimming costume. Someone could have told her it didn’t reach all the way round the back. Put me right off my Bar-B-Q chicken wings it did.

A bemused Billi left the house, waved off by a tearful Charley wearing a gold tea towel. Her newly formed axis of evil had lasted less than a day and it was time to repair the damage. Everyone had heard the jeering crowd.

Within minutes she was slagging him off to anyone who’d listen and slunk off to the Diary Room to lick her wounds. My patio doors are less transparent but then I’m allergic to chamois and Windolene makes me sneeze

It's Raining Men

Seány isn’t the best person to be employed as the house usher. He greeted Billi by bouncing around on the sofas shouting ‘It’s a gay, it’s gay’ like a plane had just landed on Fantasy Island. Jonathan didn’t do much better as our Irish doorman declared him an old person and propelled him into Carole’s ample chest.

Hunky Liam had the twins a quiver and Charley caught Brian in a flying body scissors and nearly popped out his ultra blue contact lenses. Maybe these boys would improve the demeanor of the surly shrews.

The four new lads had to sing for their supper and gave us a rather subdued YMCA. Liam looked more like Deputy Dawg than a 70’s cop and you would have been hard pressed to tell if the Indian was Jonathan or Carole. I’m convinced there’s a Surprise Surprise moment in store for that pair. I bet Cilla’s staking them out from the camera runs.

Charley’s insecurities have come out like a raging yeast infection since Shabs left. She’s wandering about the place trying to appear interesting to anyone who’ll listen. The extent of her appeal seems limited to the fact that she’s got more shoes than anyone else and wears the shortest skirts.

Charley tried to bury the hatchet with Ziggy & Chanelle and vowed not to get involved in any more arguments. 12 minutes later she was screaming at Laura over the hair straighteners. I’m not being funny but is it safe to use a hot iron on a nylon shag pile.

Truth or dare turned into the usual tonsil tickling. The gay kiss was like watching a starving baby hippo suckling on its mother. I was waiting for David Attenborough to appear from behind the sofa in a Blue Harbour khaki suit.

The swimming task was classic Big Brother and I can’t believe they passed. Carole bounced around like an Edwardian bathing belle on a Bank Holiday at Skegness. Every time Laura grabbed the megaphone I was reaching for the mute button. She was supposed to encourage the swimmers not warn them about approaching fog. Tracey in a Souwester was really unnerving. I kept expecting her to whip out a huge fish hook and disembowel the twins when the others weren't looking.

At one point I thought Charley was having a rest until I put my specs on and realised it was some plastic fish bones floating by the steps. She’d already given up and was shedding her extensions in the bathroom.

Gerry has become about as welcome as audience participation at a Pavarotti concert this week. First he upset Chanelle by saying she was unfit. Unfit translated into beached whale for Chanelle and not even Ziggy’s calming Sir Cliff tones could console her.

Nicky and Carole somehow got the wrong end of Gerry’s stick too and went round and round in circles for the next 24 hours with nothing being resolved because of their lacking in the listening department.

The Wednesday Twist saw £100,000 up for grabs but Carole was too busy fretting about her smelly towel to be bothered. When Liam heard they’d chosen him to get the cash he went even more blank faced than normal before collapsing onto the floor in a flood of manly tears.

Now I’m not saying the girls in there are shallow but suddenly they’re flirting and fussing with Liam. It reached a peak, well 2 squashed peaks actually, when Charley appeared wearing a satisfied grin and an elastic band nearly, almost covering her tits.

Chanelle & Carole fell out over a fingered sandwich. Much to my surprised it was Charley who turned peacemaker. Her take on the incident was - “You thought someone was something because something had been said.” Well now we know!

Odd girl out

Of course they failed the weekly task again but the sardine fiasco provided the best exchange of the series so far.

Carole “Are you OK Chanelle?”
Chanelle “I can’t speak. I have a fish in my armpit”

You just couldn't make this stuff up.

On Friday Davina welcomed a WWE fan with processed hair and an extra from The Sopranos. She also gave us someone to trim their bushes and a kid who probably left his Mum in tears at the front gate.

Charley unbuttoned her blouse and rearranged her chest as the sound dipped. Half an hour later she was sobbing uncontrollably, with one eye on the camera, as her best mate left the house.

Best mate, my arse. Why didn’t she tell Shabnam that she’d forgotten to put her pants on!

Diva Down

The arrival of the 2 new boys led to high spirits and hi jinx. I nearly choked on my Jacob’s Creek when Laura caught sight of Seany in the lobby and shrieked ‘It’s a clown, he’s a clown’. The poor girl. I dread to think what passes for a circus in the Rhondda valleys.

It was all rather fun until Seany decided to relieve Lesley of her duvet at 4am. That was the last straw for the Grand Dame. She rebuffed the Celtic bed burglar with an air of Bette Davis in All About Eve. She slowly patronised her way out of the house in the longest goodbye since Meg Mortimer sailed off on the QE2 when the Crossroads Motel burned down.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Seany decided to swipe the love nest from Posh & Pecs. The dreamy duo were relegated to stealing kisses on the Astro turf while Greek and Irish relations improved on the double divan.

For some reason, Gerry and Seany chose the Twins to nominate with them. Had they discovered some skill set we’d missed? The only talent I’ve spotted so far is plaiting hair and jiggling. Talking of hair, Seany has taken to wearing a hair band and a big blousy scarf. I swear he’s morphing into Christine Hamilton.

Carole wasn’t happy about Shabby’s steaming pants stewing in the bath. However Shabs had other things on her mind and opted to run around the garden in a pink feather boa shouting ‘Do I look like I’m jogging’. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

As expected, Charley ran out of fags and made a right racket. We had a budgie once that didn’t like us moving it’s millet spray. Hiding it’s mirror was the only way to shut it up. Take note Big Brother!

Laura has turned into a bitchy bedroom Buddha. She squats on her bed all day offering everyone her opinions. Most of them aimed directly between Ziggy’s shoulder blades.

Nagging Nicky, the Watford Whinger is doing my head in. She says she hates men. The male population of the UK should breathe a sigh of relief.

Girls just wanna have a bloody good ruck!

It’s all gone a bit pear shaped this week and I’m not talking about Carole in her turquoise bikini.

Emily and Chanelle were first to get in a tangle over the hair straighteners. The poor Wakefield lass was left bereft with her natural curl. She then lobbed a laminate at Charley. I can’t remember why exactly but it seemed to involve a kidnapped boot and 3 white socks.

Nicky and Laura squared up over foraging for food as mealtimes became increasingly flatulent. Hardly surprising when I think they only ordered chocolate bars and 8 varieties of lettuce. Shopping in the Big Brother House seems to be even more difficult than navigating the SKY+ planner!

I really love the way Charley hovers around every argument asking people to chill out. It’s a bit like the Hunchback of Notre Dame telling you to sit up straight.

The shopping task was a corker. Lesley smirked whilst gripping tightly onto the ‘Most Intelligent’ post but turned Medusa when Emily said she was ‘Least Considerate’. That woman can do stony faced better than that bloke in the middle of Trafalgar Square.

Shabby threw a wobbly when she was manhandled off the podium and relegated to mid table in the attractiveness stakes. Maybe it was a sign of things to come as Big Brother punished her for discussing nominations and she was stripped of her sparkly face mask and cartoon wardrobe.

Tracy had her very own morning rave on her birthday. Waving her glow sticks around, she put me in mind of a bin man on Pro-Plus at a Star Wars convention.

Emily had a kamikaze week. In the space of 48 hours her mouth and brain were divorced and she disappeared out the back door, in the middle of the night, with no knickers.

The poor twins still seem out of their depth and just run about in the background. They chase each other around the house in their underwear like a trailer for the Adult Channel.

With Ziggy’s nominations cancelled what on earth would Big Brother do to fill the time on Friday? Well they chucked in two gay guys of course.

I think Seány was pitching to be the next Dr Who. Sorry mate but Colin Baker did that look already. Gerry the Greek was an instant hit with the girls and the crowd. The only person who didn’t seem to take to Gerry was Seány. I’m surprised they didn’t get chilblains when they were sat next to each other in the Diary Room.

Seconds out. Let the bedroom battles begin.

The Rooster Has Landed

Davina announced the return of the chickens on launch night. Friday we got a cockerel too.

Whilst Charley was preening and flirting with herself in the mirror, a rooster in a 2 piece arrived in the coop to ruffle the feathers of the broody birds. Ziggy looked like a reject from Any Dream Will Do. He might not be Joseph but if The Blues Brothers ever reform as a boy band he could be in with a chance.

Ziggy is a strange name if you’re not a puppet or a soft toy but it didn’t seem to bother the chirpy chicks. They surrounded him in an instant and flapped and puffed up their various chests. Charley checked herself in the mirror again and Chanelle fiddled with her fillets. Tracy was bemused. She thought he was a waiter. Does she think they’re in the Borehamwood Travel Lodge I wonder?

Everyone seemed cock-a-hoop at the new eye candy. Everyone except Lesley, that is. The bossy bantam didn’t take to this young leghorn ousting her from the prime perch. There were tears and tantrums and she even tried waving a banana around in attempt to maintain her position in the pecking order. It was all in vain as he slipped under her single duvet and under the skin of a certain Posh Spice doppelganger.

The twittering twins still seem to be talking a different language to everyone else. I think Channel 4 should provide subtitles for those of us who never took a GCSE in squealing.

I’m really worried about Carole. I’m not sure she’s built for mangling. Every time she bends forward and cranks that handle I think she’s going to flatten those ample bosoms.

In between checking herself in the mirror at every opportunity Charley is making enemies in and out of the house due to her constant bitching, boasting and bubbling. Who knew that it was Charley that invented going out on a Sunday instead of a Saturday? Oh and I bet you never knew that skinny jean were the brainchild of our Emily.

Who says Big Brother isn’t educational?

Big Night in Borehamwood!

I was grinning from ear to ear as a 7 foot security guard led us down the housemate walkway towards the VIP paddock. The place was a lot smaller than I expected but the atmosphere was electric. My heart was beating so fast I thought my vibrating mobile alert was going off.

After a quick warm up we were introduced to the divine Davina. She looked stunning. Like Emma Peel going speed dating. She played with the crowd and even persuaded a rather cute and crumpled Dermot to take a bow before the cameras started rolling.

First up were two matching twizzle sticks who giggled their way into the house and then promptly fell in the bath.

An old dear in stretch pants and pumps swept by. She looked like she was there to audit the books and had taken the wrong turning.

Another girl was next. Charley was like Sinitta on a tight budget. The poor girl didn‘t quite live up to her video and she got a bit of a roasting from the crowd.

By the time Tracey arrived it was clear we were going to have a house full of estrogen.

The crowd was ecstatic. Tracey looked like what you might get if Sir Jimmy Savile exploded in a Flea Market. I shook her hand. Can you believe I’ve been touched by the hand of a 37 year old cleaner from Cambridge.

The smiley Welsh girl appeared to have come dressed as a Liquorice Allsort for some reason. I think she had the same stylist as Shab who was wide-eyed with leggings.

We also got a Posh Spice wannabe and a wannabe posh bird. There was one with a fringe who was a bit fed up and hated men. She’d obviously come to the right house.

They saved the best until last. Carole the activist exploded from her limo wearing some curtains from a Blackpool B&B. The crowd loved her and she loved her moment. It was a magical experience for her and us.

It may have been like watching the hen party from hell but I loved every clucking moment.

Bring on the boys