OK, it's about as boring and pointless as telly can get. Only "The Fishtank Channel" can boast more pointlessness.
But it's Big Brother, the big experiment. Shove thirteen people in a goldfish bowl, albeit a plush "Ooh I want it" goldfish bowl and see what happens. What seems to be happening this time is that they're going to rip each other apart.
This year they've excelled themselves on the cliche factor:
- A gay tory speechwriter who was, apparently, the first black huntsmaster in Britain - What a coup for Endemol! He's almost guaranteed to clash with absolutely anyone who didn't go to Eton or Oxbridge.
- Not one but two gay hairdressers, which means it's pretty tough on the girls shag-wise, but at least they get a good haircut instead of the usual scalping that tends to go on towards week eight and people get sick of looking after it, or run out of shampoo. And of course, gay hairdressers are the biggest bitches on the planet, aren't they?
- The chav and the Italian Stallion. And of course, the chav fancies himself far more than the Italian, and has to date, yes two days in, has managed to piss everyone off at least twice. Nice going pal.
- The gobby but braindead big-titted one. OK, they seem to have about five of these this year, the notable exception being my immediate favourite:
Scary Mary the "white Witch"
Who at least had the decency to have a full on panic attack for her first 24 hours in the house - which, lets face it, is how any one of us would react when they realised what a bunch of freaks and tossers they'd been locked up with, and who was the only one to get a "Oh, she's nice" out of me, despite the pneumatic PVC nurse, the excessively cleavaged afro chick, the self-proclaimed nympho student and the...erm...other ones.
