I make no excuses for the enjoyment I get from frizzling my braincells by watching Celebrity Big Brother and this year has started with me putting on my rant hat after the first evening.
Amongt the *cough* celebrities is Tommy Sheridan. Many apeople may be asking, who? He is a firebrand politician, a campaigner who's been to prison on countless occassions and he loves the sound of his own voice. He's what you get if you put George Galloway on a rack for a while and shave his facial hair off.
Within hours of entering the house his party political broadcast started including his belief of a minimum wage of £9 and a maximum wage of £90 with a fixed maximum working week of 35hours - oh that'll work <rolls eyes>. Yawn.
Out came his t-shirt - complete with his socalism definition slogan. Yawn. And he found an early ally in the form of Terry 'Professional Mancunian' Christian blethering about how wonderful Cuba is because everyone there is happy and there's no crime which makes me believe they both got on the wrong plane and actually visited NeverNeverLand.
Since the minute he has been in he has droned on in the lefty monotone, irony free manner which can change me from being a fairly liberal (when the hormones aren't kicking in) conservative into Norman Tebbit with breasts and lippy.
In line with his everything must be equal belief he manages to bypass the theory all together when the gameshow, for that is what it is, throws a silly game their way.
The essence of the game was to secretly find out who had the biggest ego and to do this the celebrities had to rank the group using the model of a film's end credits - they'd choose one person to be the star, 2 co-stars, 3 extras etc. Cue a bit a celebrity ego fuelled silliness - that's what I'm tuning in for.
No, Comrade Tomski bawled over everyone that it had to be fair and ordered the leader to list the people alphabetically. It's his way or no way. He'll be counting grains of rice next. Though congratulations on taking such a short time to be more annoying than John Prescott sat in his big country house bemoaning how the class system held him back.
My hope is they pimp Verne's electric scooter into a weapon wielding chariot and run Tomski over in a revolution in the name of mind numbing entertainment - that's what we've signed up for.
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