I’m A Celebrity… No You Aren’t!

I always used to enjoy “I’m a celebrity.. . Get me out of here!” in its early days. At first, some of the contestants were quite funny, Myleene Klass was really fit in that white bikini and the disgusting  trials held a horrible fascination. However, as the years have dragged by the celebs have gone more Z list than D list to the extent that we now have some no-mark MP deluding herself that the British public wants to see her skanky, matted hair on TV every day and listen to what she has to say. Sorry love, we don’t.

I suspect that, apart from the cheque and the opportunity to play golf every day for three weeks, even Ant and Dec are fed up with it now. To be fair, Celebrity has lasted longer in our house than those other equally banal reality shows such as Big Brother, Strictly Come Dancing, Britain’s Got Talent and X-Factor. Other than the excruciatingly embarrassing auditions in X-Factor and BGT, none of these shows have been remotely worth watching for years. Celebrity has finally gone the same way, and probably the only thing that could salvage it now is if someone starved to death or choked themselves into oblivion on a kangaroo’s balls live on screen.

The only thing worse than the shows themselves is the constant moaning about it on social media sites like Twitter and Facebook. It is relentless. I believe there must be someone called Rylan on X-Factor as I see people complaining about him/her on my Facebook news feed each and every Saturday night without fail. If he/she and the programme offend you all that much, then why don’t you just stop watching it and, more importantly, stop cluttering up my wall wittering about it? The one saving grace is that X-Factor, being a pure money-making Christmas scam for Simon Cowell, will all be over very soon.

Oh, and whilst I’m on the subject of Christmas. It’s November. There is no need to have your lights and tree up yet, if indeed you need to put them up at all. Please don’t kid yourself that you’re doing it for your kids because they really can’t be arsed with it, are bored with it and find your over the top enthusiasm for naff decorations embarrassing. I know this because I have one, and he has told me precisley that.

Merry frigging Christmas.


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