Stop the press. It’s official. Summer is here. It’s true that we Brits aren’t blessed with a vast array of weather conditions. Our climate ranges from a bit dull with some rain to dull with no rain to shit the sun is out (lets make the most of it before it goes behind that huge cloud and turns dull again). Imagine I was unlucky enough be in a coma and during that time the worlds governments outlawed calenders (I don’t know why either but stick with me). Provided I didn’t progress to a vegetative state whilst in said coma, I would be hard pressed to tell which season we were currently in. With this in mind, the only way of telling its summer is that the annual idiot parade aka Big Brother has returned to our screens.
This yearly parade of tossbags and wannabes contains several, ahem, “characters”. Amongst others there is
, Shabaz, who calls himself a “waki,paki, poof”
Lea, a model / porn star / ex-pie eater with, at size 30M, the largest breasts in britain
Nikki, an idiot gold digger who can’t drink water unless it’s bottled water.
Bonnie, beanflick fixated and can barely pronounce her own name
Pete, tourettes afflicted, rock singer, Frank Spencer on acid, who according to the channel 4 website, “lives in a wall”.
In all honesty the entire house could fold in on itself, like the end of poltergeist as long as Pete survived. The man is a legend already. He needs his own TV show. His audition tape was mental, if a bit like ingesting 100 microdots. I did wonder whether Pete was an actor planted by the show’s producers but based on the evidence at hand I very much doubt it.
Every year I try to avoid the human petri-dish that is Big Brother, but just when I think I’m out they pull me back in. There is one saving grace this summer though. The World Cup. Come on England (or more importantly Rooney)