Subtitle: My Need For Constant Public Attention Has Superseded My Last Shred Of Dignity, Get Me Out Of Here (But Only Once I’ve Been On The Show Long Enough To Kickstart My Panto Career)
Autumn. As Keats famously wrote, it’s the season of mists, mellow fruitfulness and people gnawing through animal’s reproductive organs in exchange for a bar of chocolate. Okay, he didn’t write that last bit, but then again he wasn’t fortunate enough to witness ‘I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here.’ He might have written ‘Ode To An Ex-Soap Actress Wading Through Shit Collecting Plastic Stars’ if he had.
The series kicks off on November 12th with phone-voting still a controversial issue. Short of Ant & Dec personally calling viewers back after they’ve voted and promising them they’ve made a note of which witless publicity-crackhead they hate less, the results of every eviction will be treated with a fair level of suspicion.
As usual, the details of the runners & riders have been shrouded in more secrecy than Tom Cruise’s sexuality but the following seem to be the most likely candidates. So strap in and prepare to hate somebody you’d not previously heard of more than a genocidal maniac who’s just nicked your parking space. In no particular order (other than the order they were listed on the Guardian website):
Anna Ryder Richardson: Flat-faced dad crumpet from Changing Rooms. A practical contestant for two main reasons. 1: Her ability to change the lounge of some prole-hole into a Louisiana brothel will come in handy for making the jungle clearance a bit nicer. She’s got 2,000 square kilometres of raffia to work with, for a start. 2: She appears to be covered in a hide so leathery that in a crisis she could be skinned and used as a raincoat.
Gemma Atkinson: The editors of Nuts, Zoo, et al will already have their “Look! A girl in a bikini! You can see her pillows and that!” features written, awaiting Gemma’s not-contrived-in-any-way shower photos. Early betting for what pun headline they’ll use to describe her large breasts has “You Don’t Get Many Of Gemma To The Pound” as the odds-on favourite.
Rodney Marsh: Marsh will doubtless see this as a way of redeeming himself after his on-air punditry gaff when he thoughtlessly and disgracefully repeated a joke about the Asian tsunami that roughly 92% of the population had already heard & probably laughed at. Will probably recreate Sid James’ role in Carry On Up The Jungle by saying ‘Corblimey’ every 17 seconds and moan like a spoilt socialite as soon as the booze runs out.
Koo Stark: Or as anybody under the age of 35 will refer to her – “Who? Stark”. Her last action of note was allowing a chinless heir to the throne to dump his inbred yoghurt in her chuff some time in the 1980s. Her current ‘celebrity’ status is roughly equivalent to the bloke with the ‘tache who used to be in Rod, Jane & Freddy.
Malcolm Mclaren: His inclusion on the show is an easy way of looking into a TV execs brain, but is far less enjoyable than simply lopping off the top third of said exec’s skull like a soft-boiled egg. The reasoning is woefully straightforward – “John Lydon surprise favourite in one series. Mclaren he used manage Lydon. We get Mclaren on show, much ratings. Me win Christmas bonus. Spend money on hookers and coke.”
Janice Dickinson: Second only to nuclear explosions, biological terrorism and Brian Blessed’s shower plughole, Janice Dickinson is one of the most terrifying creations a godless planet has to offer. If your auntie with the drink problem was ever pumped full of Viagra, Botox and monkey placenta, she’d look like Dickinson. First to walk off the show.
Cerys Matthews: If Janice Dickinson looks like Armageddon in a wig, Cerys Matthews is the soundtrack. She sings like a council estate fishwife after a messy divorce and looks like her kids have nits. Apparently fond of the grog, expect a bizarre indie pop / footballer alliance with Rodney Marsh as the pair of them make a canoe out of Anna and set sail in search of an off-licence.
Marc Bannerman: Or ‘That bloke who used to be in Eastenders’. TBWUTBIE (as I’ve suddenly decided I’m going to call him) looks like the kind of preening prick-stand you’d find in nightclubs where Third Division footballers are hurled out of. Wikipedia notes he’s also a keen boxer, so expect to find him polishing a big stone to a reflective sheen so he can watch himself skipping.
Katie Hopkins: No, me neither. Apparently ‘famous’ for being a bit of a backstabbing, overambitious cunt on “The Apprentice”. Which is a bit like being ‘famous’ for being hairy in the Hells Angels. Almost certain to have a mental breakdown and spend hours staring into the camp-centre flames shouting “You’re fire” at them. Or maybe not.
Jason ‘J’ Brown: Obligatory boyband member whose inclusion makes Peter Andre look like Bob Dylan in comparison.
Christopher Biggins: Goodwill from the British public is a fairly simple affair. Just be on the periphery of the national conscience for a couple of decades, don’t piss anybody off and be a bit shit. Such is the path Biggins has chosen these last twenty-odd years. Expect this to evaporate like J’s hairgel when he turns into a self-centred, childish queen the second somebody dares to defy him. Given his existing panto pedigree, you have to wonder why he has bothered.
Richard & Fred Fairbrass: Clearly going after the Big Brother’s ‘Samanda’ demographic (only these chaps have larger tits), Fred1 & Fred2 are two contestants for the price of one. Once Janice Dickinson has installed herself as She Who Must Be Obeyed, expect the guys to be her mute bodyguards, like something out of a cheap 60’s Hammer horror film.
Lynne Franks: Successful, powerful, independent and rich as Croesus, Franks has clearly got into the wrong cab and right now Michaela Strachan is the newest addition to Dragon’s Den. In a show already mad from the outset, this is a gibbering wreck of an idea.
John Burton Race: Looked on Wikipedia. Even they asked who the fuck he was, so I’ve got no chance. As the weeks go on (assuming he lasts that long) his identity might be revealed.
So that’s your lot. See you on the other side.
