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.Most Excellent Comedies Not Co-Written By Myself were The Thick of It and Peep Show; Best Dramas were Deadwood, Bleak House and The Shield; and the Best Overall Show of the Year was clearly, obviously and undeniably Doctor Bloody Brilliant Who.As for 2006, my early tips are weirdy time-travel cop drama Life on Mars and warm, pant-pissingly funny sitcom The IT Crowd.There.That’s your lot.Auld Lang Syne, etc.Reality itself has a hangover[14 January 2006]Blech.Following the boozy snack-food excesses of the festive season, it takes about a fortnight to reorientate yourself with the sober normality of everyday life, so the sudden reappearance of Celebrity Big Brother (C4 ) on our screens can’t possibly be a good thing.It’s like staring through a porthole into an alternate universe where reality itself has a hangover.So who’s in and who’s out? Here’s your very own cut-out-and-lose primer.First up, basketball star Dennis Rodman, a man about as famous in Britain as Bernard Matthews is in the States.Brooding silently like an Easter Island statue in a baseball cap, Dennis is so assured of his inherent coolness he scarcely speaks, communicating instead by running his hand over the nearest available female.Sexually speaking, he’s constantly ‘on amber’, and I’m assuming by the time you read this he’ll have shagged the arse off everyone in the house.Including, with any luck, George Galloway.Galloway himself comes across much as he does in the outside world, i.e.as the sort of squat, shifty-looking human pepperpot you might cast as the chief villain in a children’s programme about a dead-eyed maniac who secretly strangles cats in his bathroom.I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him (although if I was throwing him over the side of a ferry, that might be a fair old distance).He’s far less likeable than Michael Barrymore, a man whose own passport documentation lists his occupation as ‘troubled comic’.His teary five-minute walk up to the house made for excruciating viewing, but once inside he struck me as refreshingly sane.Well, OK, not entirely—but a damn sight saner than the Daily Mirror’s hate-campaign coverage of his antics, that’s for sure.Just for the record, his impersonation of Hitler was absolutely bloody hilarious.My current favourite is Dead or Alive singer Pete Burns, who appears to have stepped straight from an episode of When Surgeons Go Mental.His face is astoundingly strange—neither ugly nor beautiful, yet endlessly riveting.If humans ever mate with cartoon characters, their offspring will look like this.Sometimes he resembles Lily Savage as reimagined by the Simpsons; other times Janice from The Muppet Show (Google ‘Janice Muppets’ and click on ‘images’ if you don’t believe me).Aside from all the work on his lips, cheeks and eyes, he’s also undergone a tongue-sharpening procedure; consequently he’s a fountain of caustic asides and inventive language, drawling gems like ‘I’ve had insults thrown over me like a bucket of cum’ without so much as blinking (come to think of it, he probably can’t blink, not without his scalp snapping in two).He should win.Finally, we’ll skip past Rula Lenska, Maggot, Preston, Faria and Traci—because they’re dull—and concentrate instead on the twin horror-show of Chantelle Houghton and Jodie Marsh.The former is a crashing nonentity suddenly afforded the chance to bask in the public eye; the latter doesn’t seem quite so talented.Chantelle, while thick, has enough sense not to strop around the place crying and bellowing, in the thickest manner possible, about how everyone says she’s thick.Whereas Jodie hasn’t quite worked out how the relationship between ‘things you do’ and ‘things people say about you’ works.Which explains why, if her time in the house is anything to go by, the poor girl’s doomed to spend 50 per cent of her life complaining that the tabloids have labelled her a ‘slag’, and the remaining 50 per cent shoving her tits in people’s faces and banging on about sex.It’s not making her happy.With any luck she’ll find love and snap out of it.She deserves some inner peace.That’s far too drippy a sentiment to end on, so I’ll leave you by pointing out the tip of her nose, which looks like it’s tried to grow in two different directions at once, and consequently resembles the business end of a chisel.She’ll have someone’s eye out with that.And catch it in her cleavage afterwards.CHAPTER FOURIn which George Galloway is examined again at close range, a terrifying face appears at the window, and Bono proves too annoying to inspire global salvation.Galloway to go[27 January 2006]I was at the Big Brother house on Wednesday night.Not to hurl bags of shit at George Galloway, you understand—1 was there researching something I’m writing.And besides, security confiscated my bags of shit at the gate.Anyway, once in, I was given the full tour.I got to go in the camera runs and everything.I peered through a window while Chantelle fixed her make-up.I witnessed Barrymore making a cup of tea in blistering close-up detail.I saw Maggot adjusting his balls.This was history in the making
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