MAY 26. The Soap Awards and Eurovision dominated last weekend.
So, horrendous squawking, bizarre voting decisions and ludicrous
costumes... and Eurovision was nearly as bad. The Soap Awards
had their moments, the best being the faces of the EastEnders
cast as Corrie pretty much swept the board. They looked glum,
irritated and in desperate need of a drink – it’s pretty much
how I feel whenever I watch their show. Here’s how bad it’s
been – Enders’ entry for Most Spectacular Scene of the Year
was Billy Mitchell carrying the Olympic torch (narrowly beating
Masood smashing up his water feature.) In fairness, those live
scenes were the only time we’ve seen the cast smile.
If only he’d used the flame to torch last year’s scripts...
Month after joyless month was dominated by Who Shagged Kat,
a storyline no-one gave a rat’s arse about because the bigger
question is who wouldn’t Kat shag? Even Alfie Moon couldn’t
have been surprised. She’d already had another bloke’s kid.
Cue what felt like several trillion scenes of the Branning brothers
checking their phones and smirking simultaneously while big
wuss Alfie moped around tormented by heart-ache and suspicion.
Enders is as great an advert for Londoners as George Michael
is for carefree driving. It won one solitary award this year
- a Lifetime Achievement gong for Adam Woodyatt, the chief achievement
being that he turned up for work every morning. He probably
deserved it for being Ian Beale for 28 years. Ian is a bore
and a tightwad, a rat in human form. The writers have always
had it in for him because he wanted to make a few bob and better
himself, and for the BBC working class aspiration is a cardinal
sin. So Ian has lost every business he’s ever had, including
the long-forgotten bric-a-brac store. Even in the boom he went
They gave him a break-down last year, leaving him wandering
the streets in his Barack Obamas before he finally resurfaced
looking like a moth-eaten Dr Zaius from Planet Of The Apes.
The biggest fiasco was when he pretended to have a butler and
wore his granddad’s war medals to try and impress some posh
bird he didn’t know – all at home in his East End hovel! What
tosh! At least Hollyoaks doesn’t claim to be “real life.”
*THE best soap storyline nominations were: spousal abuse,
depression, suicide, death... it’s being so happy as keeps them
*MICHELE Keegan is a beautiful woman – far too beautiful for
her storylines. She deserved to win Sexiest Female again. It’s
just odd that ITV producers assume that sexy stops in your twenties.
Kym Lomas is nearly 37 and you wouldn’t kick her out of bed
for breaking wind. For breaking into song, maybe...
MICHELLE left simple men aghast when she told the audience:
“I’m going to get these out in fifty years and be the coolest
Gran ever.” Although in all likelihood she was talking about
UZMA was kicked off The Apprentice. It’s sad for her, and
also for that painting donkey from Britain’s Got Talent who
I believe was doing her make-up. The bad news is this means
Luisa is still in Sugar’s “process.” The teams had to set up
a farm shop this week, even though they’d clearly never set
foot in one (or a farm.) Rather than selling freshly-grown produce,
they flogged jacket potatoes and milkshakes. No-one came over
well. Alex the Vampire struggled with simple mental arithmetic
and failed to recognise a carrot. One nitwit thought Satsumas
were locally-grown. Natalie mistook a cow for a horse, while
Doctor Totty asked how many potatoes there were in a kilo. D’oh!
Luisa’s team cornered the market in buffalo steaks (two for
a score, bargain!) and foul-tasting breakfast soup. Luckily
for Lu, Kurt’s milkshake obsession brought down rivals Endeavour.
At one point he was buying cartons of apple juice from that
well known inner city farm Costcutter. Tsk. Business brains?
You wouldn’t trust this lot to sell life-boats on a sinking
HOT on TV: Banshee (Sky Atlantic)... Zlata Ognevich (Eurovision)...
Mad Men finale... history hottie Suzannah Lipscombe.
ROT on TV: the British Soap Awards – a load of old flannel...
Holby City – one hospital closure I’d campaign for... Jay McInerney
on Sincerely F Scott Fitzgerald – sincerely, eff off.
JOEY Essex’s new haircut means you can now actually hear the
wind whistling through his ears. He looks like the love-child
of Shemp from the Three Stooges and a shop window dummy. Joey
and fiancée Sam went on All Star Mr & Mrs, despite not being
married, or stars. He said that her favourite animal was “a
mouse, she loves mouses.” Honestly, we’re talking pot-plant
dim. It’s a wonder the kid can summon up the brain power to
keep breathing. Yet incredibly he’s won awards. Someone asked
Joey what it was like to go down on the red carpet and he said
he’d never even dated Amy Childs.
*ON Jeremy Kyle, a refined, cough, lady admitted she’d once
pleasured two men on a bus. And there was still room for one
more on top... Apparently she waited for twenty minutes and
then two came at once.
*NOEL Edmonds spends most of his time with a full-size dummy
called Candice. Imagine having to put up with such dismal company.
I don’t know how Candice manages it.
*MORE fascinating Noel facts: he is exactly the same height
as his celebrity garden gnome; his bottom really is crinkly;
the Universe told him to axe Blobby...
*THE Doctor Who finale had whisper men, dream conference calls,
John Hurt, the giant Tardis tombstone. The biggest stretch of
imagination, though? The alleged chemistry between the Doc and
*JOHN Hurt is the Doctor? Hmm. I was hoping it would turn
out to be Dr Legg. It would explain his many long absences from
Albert Square in the 90s... and Clara could so do with a Legg
SMALL Joys of TV: Cannon & Ball at the Soap Awards. Victoria
Coren’s cleavage. Porridge repeats. The Last Days Of Anne Boleyn.
The latest special offer in Defiance’s sci-fi brothel - the
“six-legged monkey crawl!” Any complaints, see the gorilla on
RANDOM irritations: BBC1’s perverse initial reluctance to
mention that the Woolwich killers were Islamists. Bold satirists
10 O’Clock Live ducking the big story. Anjem Choudary, the real
swivel-eyed loon, getting far too much airtime.
TV Maths: Martin Freeman + Rick Astley = Neil Clough (The
SEPARATED at birth: Phil Mitchell and Uncle Fester – one a
badly dressed, bald lunatic with a weirdo family, the other
a character from a US sitcom.
*AM I alone in finding Phil Schofield slightly creepy? There’s
a deadness in his eyes, a whiff of sulphur about him... what
has he sacrificed to climb the greasy pole? Besides poor forgotten
Gordon the Gopher...
May 19. ROMOLA Garai’s vagina remark split the audience at
the BAFTA TV awards. Some laughed, some were aghast; the stiff
upper lips wobbled... but Romola kept that bit to herself. The
actress had needed 23 stitches after giving birth. “I didn’t
think I’d be laughing at anything for a long time,” she said.
Which is presumably why Graham Norton’s opening monologue had
been surgically stripped of anything resembling a decent gag.
Vagina isn’t a word you’d normally associate with BAFTA, although
their judges have been called worse – often deservedly. Like
Romala’s poor pulverised privates, this once prestigious ceremony
has been stretched and pulled out of all recognition. Critical
faculties have plummeted like a prolapsed pelvic floor. How
can we to take the BAFTAs seriously when their trailer of “great
British TV” included BBC1’s disastrous Diamond Jubilee coverage?
When BBC2’s forgettable Hitchcock hatchet job The Girl was up
for four gongs? And when some of the nominated shows were such
flops that they’ve already been canned?
BAFTA even had the front to give an award to BBC1’s soap on
the ropes EastEnders whose ratings have done more diving recently
than Tom Daly.
Other undeserved gongs went to Made In Chelsea and Twenty
Twelve, a limp satire not nearly as funny as Aussie show The
Games which inspired it. Somehow Anne-Marie Duff was persuaded
to state straight-faced that “British drama has never been better”
as if Last Tango In Halifax could hold a candle to House Of
Cards, This Life or The Sweeney. A whiff of box-ticking hung
over the results; worthiness trumped quality. C4’s Paralympics
coverage triumphed, the actual Olympics got zilch. Clare Balding
got a special award, probably not for Britain’s Brightest. Best
Comedy went to BBC 3’s The Revolution Will Be Televised (but
not watched, or talked about). But the biggest upset was ITV’s
The Other Side Of Jimmy Savile losing out, which reeked of behind
the scenes damage limitation.
These awards meant something when British TV was bold, brilliant,
creative and funny. But these days they’re just an annual farce,
an excuse to slap the same old backs and kiss the same old arses.
The BAFTAs need new, independent judges, fresh writers and a
new host. I wonder if Romola’s available.
*BAFTA highlight? Well, Romola’s vagina monologue takes some
licking. Should it have made the edit? I’m told it was a close
shave. And neatness counts for a lot these days.
THE Fall is moody, brooding, and bloody dull. They’ve got
an underwear model as a sadistic middle class serial killer.
Like so many demented murderers, by day he’s a grief counsellor.
By night he stalks and slaughters beautiful brunettes. Isn’t
it perverse that BBC1 choose to show naked women almost exclusively
on mortuary slabs? Do TV bosses ever worry about the long-term
effect of portraying attractive females as butchered victims?
In real-life, Nilsen, Dahmer and Ireland preyed on men. Like
Fred West and Peter Sutcliffe, they were no pin-ups.
THE dozy women lost again on The Apprentice, despite offering
buyers a large multifunctional box – which I believe was Leanne’s
sales pitch on Corrie back in her escort days. The task was
to dream up a new space-saving product. The men’s ugly chair
turned into a table; the women had the Tidy-Sidey – a box on
wheels. I’d have used the box to burn the chair. (For the tidy
bit on the sidey, see Eva Price.)
*Alternative uses for the Tidy-Sidey: 1) Storage space for
Uzma’s daily cosmetics requirements 2) Folds out into a coffin
for vampire Alex 3) Throw in a phone and an LCD screen and it
could be a mobile Amstrad emailer... (You’re fired – Lord Sugar)
FROST On Sketch Shows was oddly disjointed. Frosty included
his own programmes, but over-looked Spike Milligan’s ground-breaking
Q series which paved the way for Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
Inevitably he blanked Benny Hill, our biggest-ever TV comedy
export. The way Frost told it, we went from Python to Fry &
Laurie via Not The 9 O’Clock News. Mainstream sketch shows were
written out of history. Dick Emery? Nope. Russ Abbot? Forgotten.
Little & Large? Non-people. Their show ran for 13 years and
attracted 15million viewers! Granted a fair bit of it was cack,
but watch their clever, funny Alphabet Man sketch again, because
if the Two Ronnies had done that instead of Syd and Eddie we’d
still be seeing it in compilation shows.
* FROST’s famous class sketch had three blokes representing
the upper, middle and working classes. Things were simple then.
Today you’d need three more fellas in the line-up representing
corporate tax dodgers, benefit cheats and the feckless underclass.
HOT on TV: Olivia Colman – Colman’s mustard... Banshee (Sky
Atlantic)... Band of Voices (BGT)... Dara O’Briain (You’re Fired).
ROT on TV: Honey Boo Boo – Honey bye-bye... Frankie – nurse,
the screens!... The Suspicions of Mr Whicher – too long, clichéd
and convoluted; Whicher? It’s a ditcher.
HERE Comes Honey Boo Boo is another chance to laugh at poor
folks. Cue women bobbing for pigs’ trotters, mud-hole belly-flops,
disturbing child beauty pageants and cheese balls for breakfast.
The redneck Thompson clan has charm, though. Mama, 32 (stone)
has a language all of her own. Her slang word for vagina is
“biscuit”, which made me choke on a half-chewed flapjack. Flip
her over for the party ring. No jammy dodger jokes by request.
*SO Nigel Farage visits Edinburgh, heads straight for the
pub, starts a row and leaves in the back of a police van. How
can they say he doesn’t understand the Scottish way of life?
*SURPRISES on Ian Beale’s Le Square menu: Abi’s char-grilled
chinchilla and chips. Sharon’s secret pills a-popping pasanda
(very addictive). The soup? Cream of gristle...
*EASTENDERS Spoiler Alert: it won’t get any better.
*TV questions: why hasn’t Duncan Norvelle appeared a celebrity
edition of The Chase? Will Embarrassing Bodies ever spawn a
pop-up book of penises?
HARD to see anyone beating shadow-dancers Attraction on Britain’s
Got Talent, but Steph from the Luminites is a star and Band
Of Voices were terrific last night. As were Aliki and Stevie
Pink... ITV need a proper variety spinoff series to build the
best of Cowell’s discoveries into household names. We should
see much more of sit-down stand-up Jack Carroll, ventriloquist
Steve Hewlett and marvellous mimic Francine Lewis.
RANDOM irritations: Luisa, The Apprentice. Celebrity-fronted
travel shows. Tuesday night medical show over-load. The Voice
overkill. The lack of laughs at the TV Baftas – the only one
in stitches was Romola.
AT BAFTA, nice Michael Palin praised the BBC saying “No other
broadcasting company would have given me the freedom to do what
I’ve done for 48 years.” After you with the Savile/Stuart Hall
SMALL Joys of TV: The Dambusters 70 Years On. Jaime rescuing
Brienne from the bear pit on Game Of Thrones. Jurgita’s talking
bum (Embarrassing Bodies).
SEPARATED at birth: John Lynch (The Fall) and Eric Cantona
(the Kung-Fu Kick).
EMMA on Come Dine With Me was discussing cooking when she
said: “Be careful not to over-stuff it otherwise you’ll get
a leaking loin.” Never a problem for Kat Slater...
May 12. Do you think The Apprentice producers sit the contenders
down before they start and tell them “Try your best to sound
like a massive plonker”? Why else would they introduce themselves
with lines like “I’m half-machine”, “I took inspiration from
Napoleon” or “My effortless superiority will take me all the
way”? Unless of course the format just attracts deluded nitwits
the way Gail Platt attracts wrong’uns.
The puffed-up contestants do for business what Nick Hewer
is doing for Countdown viewing figures. Jason is so gratingly
posh it’s hard to believe that he’s not already a Cabinet minister.
Eyebrows Alex looks like a young Ray Reardon with his face jammed
into a Freddie Mercury mask. Then there’s Neil with his werewolf
neck, Zeeshaan who boasted that he was “here to conquer” but
will conk out instead. And Jaz, a patronising “educational entrepreneur”
– or teacher as they’re sometimes called – who was the first
one fired. Sadly not out of a circus cannon – although she did
have Sideshow Bob’s hair.
Jaz was the half-machine woman, the machine in question possibly
being a Dictaphone stuck on playback. Her bright idea was to
try and flog tacky Chinese lucky cats in China Town when a)
the shops weren’t open and b) they were already well supplied
with felicitous feline figurines as, umm, it’s China Town.
BBC1 has sexed up the show to fight drooping ratings. Most
of the women could have been press-ganged in the Take Me Out
holding pen. Francesca resembles Sugar’s arch-enemy Stella English,
so she’s got no chance. Blonde GP Leah Totton looks more like
Dr Totty... but is Dr Dolittle so far. Luisa is poison, while
Bratz reject Uzma could come to blows with whining Rebecca,
with any luck.
Task one was to shift a container full of tat: bog rolls,
Union Jack mugs, ukuleles, the lucky cats, cat litter, two smuggled
Somali refugees (I may have dreamt that bit). The loo rolls
sold, we’ve got the mugs for another ten episodes. Task two
was beer. Francesca’s bad maths turned Evolve’s rhubarb and
caramel ale into super-strength gut-rot. So she isn’t all bad.
Jordan advocated nettle flavour, but men’s team Endeavour stung
drinkers instead with an over-priced, chocolate orange brew.
Yuck. It’s all baloney of course. Sugar isn’t based in the City,
his office block is in Essex. These twerps aren’t “Britain’s
brightest business brains” and winning is a poisoned chalice
– ask Stella. Still, they’re good for a few laughs.
*ALL-time Top 5 Apprentice Beauties: Michelle Dewberry, Laura
Moore, Melody Hossaini, Kate Walsh, Gazal Asif.
*TV Maths: Captain Jack Harkness + David Mitchell = Eyebrows
HANNIBAL is Sherlock meets Dexter with a side order of cannibalism.
Will Graham, a detective with Asperger’s, hunts serial killers
with his evil side-kick, the man-eating shrink Hannibal Lecter.
What next I wonder, Fred West Investigates? By day a hard-working
builder/murderer, by night Super-Fred! Their first target was
a nut who bumped off women by impaling them on deer antlers.
Kind of “Dancer, meet Prancer.” That’s what I call a stag do.
(The killer was easy to spot... with hindsight.). But how long
can this police procedural run before it gets daft? If Will
and his FBI boss Jack don’t spot Hannibal’s creepy secret soon
they’re not much cop as detectives.
*HANNIBAL would brighten up Masterchef. Imagine Torode choking
on his bacon and Gregg pie... with fava beans and a nice Chianti.
*ON the news we learnt that evil Cleveland kidnapper Ariel
Castro is on suicide watch – presumably to make sure he goes
through with it.
HOT on TV: new Justified (5USA)... Floyd Mayweather... Grant
ROT on TV: Nick Grimshaw – just grim... Long Island Medium
– ‘psychic’ cobblers courtesy of the so-called Learning Channel...
Murder On The Home Front – bombed... The Politician’s Husband
SCI-fi wiz Neil Gaiman made the Cybermen scary again on Doctor
Who – although the re-booted brutes owed a lot to the Borg from
Star Trek. The image of the Doc with a part-cybernetic face
recalled the time Picard was assimilated. The episode – Gaiman’s
second – was packed with twists and neat ideas. Why not invite
Terry Pratchett to have a go next?
HOW about an Embarrassing Bodies Live celebrity special? Eamonn
Holmes would take his shirt off and just spread... And imagine
those awkward Skype moments. Dr Christian: “So I’m seeing a
vast, swollen and wrinkled testicle... what’s that? It’s your
face? Sorry Lord Sugar... ”
ON Vicious the performances and the audience laughter are
perfectly matched. One is pure ham, the other is canned. Vicious
certainly delivers stinging lines. “All that money and the nicest
present she ever gave us was breaking her leg last Christmas,”
bitched Freddie. Shame there’s not more of them.
*CAN Mary Portas save the High Street? Not unless she can
drive down rents and rates, paint out yellow lines, and close
down a few supermarkets.
*STELLA and Karl got engaged on Corrie. Bah, the only time
I want to see that creep on one knee is when he’s been hit by
a police Taser.
*ODD, The Village ended with more living in it than watching
WOAH! What’s this? Iron Maiden on the Queen Vic jukebox! There’s
a turn-up. The song was ‘Run To The Hills’ – which is exactly
what anyone sane would do if they washed up in Walford. I think
‘Charlotte The Harlot’ worked in Gilly’s massage parlour.
RANDOM irritations: Paul O’Grady – again with the dogs? Put
some slap on and make us laugh you big soft lummox. Helen ‘Feckwit’
Flanagan. EastEnders trying to paint serial love rat Kat as
a victim. The complete absence of decent storylines in soaps.
The dreary voice-over on BBC4’s The Joy Of Country, and the
way it ignored facts and sales figures to push its flawed ‘country
is dead’ thesis.
SMALL Joys of TV: Diana Rigg, Game Of Thrones. Ed Byrne. The
West (PBS). ‘Kiss my ass’ Kelly (BGT). Star Trek: The True Story.
Alex’s Vulcan eyebrows (Apprentice).
THE best thing about Greggs: More Than Meats The Pie? Calendar
girl Kay (Miss August) appetizingly adorned with Empire biscuits
– definitely the cherry on top of the cake of crap that is Sky’s
latest reality show. Manager Nicola’s Belgian buns looked tasty
too. How did the photographer get through that shoot without
a cream horn?
*MELVYN Bragg says he’d kill himself if he had dementia. Understandable,
but would it work? “What are you doing with that razor blade,
Melvyn?” “The what?” “The razor blade in your hand.” “Oh this?
You know, I really don’t remember... ”
SEPARATED at birth: Adrien Brody from the King Kong movie
and Alistair McGowan. One’s associated with a hideous make-believe
monster... but enough about McGowan’s Louie Spence impressions.
DAVID Goldstrum, commentating on the Eurosport weight-lifting,
announced: “Finland’s Anna Everi, a trained masseur; she’ll
be hoping for more than 82 kilos in her snatch.” Well, a girl
May 5. It didn’t sound much cop, two old gay men trapped in
a love-hate relationship bitching about the world. But Vicious
delivered more sting than a nest of wasps carelessly agitated
by a slow-moving streaker caked in strawberry jam. “Your mother
looked well for someone who doesn’t have a heart beat,” Freddie
told Stuart, whose unseen Mum is the first to know when anyone
dies. “Is she getting the news direct from Satan?” he boomed.
The bitter odd couple are played by our finest theatrical
knights. Ian McKellen is flamboyant ham actor Freddie, Derek
Jacobi is former barman Stuart, still waiting for the right
time to come out to mater. “It’s been 48 years!” moaned an exasperated
Freddie. So Gandalf and Claudius! Proper stars in an orgy of
put-downs – what’s not to like?
Well, the production is very stagey. Some of the laughs reside
in the delivery rather than the writing – “I’ve been to Oxford”,
“Yes, for lunch.” And two ageing queens bickering about milky
cataracts in a dingy apartment can go from fabulous to tedious
pretty quickly. Which is why there’s Frances de la Tour as ‘fag
hag’ Violet and young neighbour Ash for them all to lust over...
It’s an old-fashioned show. It felt like Mr Humphries could
have minced in from Are You Being Served at any minute, for
Freddie to snipe “She could drop ten pounds by losing the blusher.”
All of which works for me, but it’s hard to keep up with PC
thinking on these vital matters. For decades we were told that
Mr Humphries was an insulting caricature, yet now ITV, the gayest
of all networks, has decided he’s funny again. Newsflash: He
Not all gay men are flamboyant and shallow, but enough are
to make him recognisable, as Rylan Clark would surely agree.
There was a throw-away rape joke (is Frankie Boyle script consultant?).
But in Vicious, most of the damage is friendly fire. With death
in the air, Freddie moaned: “I don’t know which would be preferable
at this point, if you woke up dead or I did.” Stuart waited
a beat and then hissed: “I know which I’d prefer.” That was
when I knew I wanted to see more.
BANSHEE bites like Iain Duncan Smith chomping on a fresh pair
of balls. In the opening minutes a guy gets out of nick, shags
a barmaid, escapes a shooting, survives a car chase and smashes
up a hairdresser’s... What’s he going to do for an encore? Cage-fight
Grant Mitchell? He’s a jewel thief, scouring the Pennsylvania
town of Banshee, to find his ex-lover and accomplice Carrie.
After a deadly bar brawl, he assumes the identity of new town
sheriff Lucas Hood. There are mobsters, hit-men... It’s all
a bit livelier than the Hairy Bikers.
*I’M so jaded about sex on TV these days that when he was
banging the barmaid, I was debating whether her nipples were
uneven enough to merit a Skype call to Dr Christian.
*GENUINE newspaper headline: ‘ageing comedy legend in new sex
abuse quiz.’ It sounds like Celebrity Juice for wrinklies.
AIDEN rudely buggered his more successful wife on The Politician’s
Husband. Normally MPs just do that to the country. Backstabbing
is standard in politics, this was more brutal. Anal rape was
Aiden’s revenge for Freya shafting him on Newsnight. Are political
marriages really like this? Did Bill punish Hillary by breaking
out whips and a gimp mask? If I were Yvette Cooper I’d want
HOT on TV: Dave Allen, God’s Own Comedian... Denise Harris
(The Following)... Sons Of Anarchy finale (5USA).
ROT on TV: EastEnders – bring back the Luftwaffe... The Job
Lot – The Office-lite, or more precisely shite... It’s Kevin
– like someone reanimated Spike Milligan’s brain but drained
all the wit and inspiration out of it.
THE Following was too long and too crazy. How many blood-thirsty
disciples could one Edgar Allen Poe-quoting, red wine-guzzling,
barking mad novelist realistically have? Joe Carroll had more
deep plants than Alan Titchmarsh. The show ended with Carroll
presumed dead, and Ryan and Claire stabbed – perhaps fatally,
depending on wage negotiations for series two.
*IMAGINE a killer cult inspired by Jeffrey Archer. The followers
would beat you to death with rolled-up copies of a faked c.v.
IF Corrie loses any more actors there won't be much point
rebuilding the Rovers. Shame they can’t lose the current plots,
though. They’re as appetising as lukewarm hot-pot. It’s hard
to care about Trumpton reject Paul and Eileen, or the bookies
with the miraculous over-night make-over. Tina and Gary? Bah.
A girl this hot would be dating a Man City player. You’d find
more life in Norris Cole’s y-fronts.
*NATALIE on Masterchef said she was “doing small little individual
tarts” - a lot like Joey on EastEnders. He dumped Lauren last
week. What a girl! If you could wring her out like a dishcloth
there’d be enough booze in her to fill a Jacuzzi. Scheming stick
insect Lucy is no better. Her body double’s a broom in a blonde
*SHARON is knocking back pills and vodka now – but so would
anyone lumbered with Phil. Their love is like his scowl: ugly
AN S&M hooker was giving a punter a good seeing-to on Defiance
when a Hell-bug ripped out of his chest, killing him dead. You
don’t get that with Madame Jezebel on The Sex Clinic... What
a perfect death for a masochist, though: screaming in agony,
in extreme pain, minutes from satisfaction.
*HOW can you avoid seeing Embarrassing Bodies by accident?
I just put a towel over the bathroom mirror.
*THE right way to deal with The Wright Way? Axe it! Right
RANDOM irritations: India Fisher’s patronising voice (Masterchef).
The BBC pretending only crusty reactionaries hated Dave Allen’s
clever comedy. I once saw him at a left-wing rally where various
posh po-faced twerps repeatedly interrupted his act. The same
kind of nitwits denounced Carry On films as “sexist”. They were
wrong about both.
TV questions: precisely how neat is Anita Rani’s Rani?
SMALL Joys of TV: fantastic sale items like the mirrored Vespa
scooter and pencil tip sculptures on Four Rooms. Bradley Walsh
on The Chase, cracking up at the suggestion the sound-hole on
a violin might be an A-hole. Phil Spencer saying: “It’s amazing
what you can find under an untamed bush.”
SEPARATED at birth: Sandi Toksvig and Peter Noone? One sang
‘A Must To Avoid’, the other one is...
SPORTS presenter Colin Murray was talking about a winning
horse when he told a startled jockey: “Let’s talk about that
fine thing that’s been between your legs today.”