w/c 14/02/09

Oh how we laughed at the latest Celebrity Come Dine With Me.

This time we were having dinner with Julia Bradbury from Watchdog, Christopher Biggins from I'm A Celebrity, Phillip Olivier from Brookside, and Edwina Currie from a vile place that breeds Tories.

First off, we are at Julia's where she starts of with a little Aquavit. Cut to a very camp Biggins reading the menu - "Aquavit! It's vile!" but when he later realises he got the drink mistaken for Advocaat he chirps: "Advocaat makes me vomit. Aquavit I adore. I went down the wrong avenue there."

Not for the first time Mr Biggins.

Julia serves up smoked salmon blinis and fillet of beef, which Phillip favours: "If it moves, I'll eat it."

Now there's a statement girls.

Plied with alcohol, Julia, Phillip and Biggins are dancing and laughing, but Edwina is not so happy: "I don't need to drink to enjoy myself." But perhaps, Ms Currie, others need to drink to forget you're there.

The next night, it's over to Phil's for chicken liver pate, grey bream and Eton Mess.
Edwina's a little more chirpy and wants to see Philip's chest as he done a lot of modelling including Attitude, the gay magazine. However both Edwina and Christopher have to make do with signed copies of Phil's calendar. That's showbiz folks.

Next is Edwina's house where she prepares her dishes with her 2 dogs on the kitchen floor - all bitches together then.

She prepares roasted tomato and garlic soup, pistachio souffle and individual Beef Wellingtons.
The guests go an nosey round her rather large house and Biggins notes a photo of a baboon on the wall: "A lovely picture of Edwina on holiday," he jokes.

Last but not least, it's the turn of Biggins who gets his housekeeper Steph to do most of the preparation for him while he's titivating the fresh flowers.

Edwina arrives walking like John Wayne and Biggins contemplates sticking a rude part of his anatomy in her food. Pity he didn't...

A great night was had by all and Biggins was the victor. Or should that be Victoria?

By the end of this hour, one phrase is on my mind though- I'm not a celebrity, but get me out of here.

w/c 07/02/09

Where on earth do Channel 4 find the wierdos to appear in their programmes?

In A Very British Storm Chaser (Thursday, 9pm), we were introduced to a rather geeky, Stewart Robinson, an IT consultant whose hobby was dashing off all over the world to watch hurricanes and typhoons.
But at first one wonders what is more fascinating: his storm footage or his teeth vaguely reminiscent of graveyard tombs.
His long-suffering fiance Alison was used to him jetting off at a drop of a hat as soon as his high-tech equipment in his office told him there was a storm brewing; even though his shenanigans brewed many a storm right there in his own home.

Stewart's fascination started when he watched the film Twister, which is all about tornadoes, and his ultimate goal is to be in the eye of the storm. Thank God he didn't see Striptease instead.

He shows us his survival kit - tins of beans, goggles and glow sticks; you know, what you'd expect. (?)

Now what would be fascinating would be to see Stewart eating the beans in 100 mile and hour winds.

Especially with those nashers.

The height of this tale, if there is such a thing, is when Stewart and his mate go to New Orleans to chase the hurricane. It's total gridlock as everyone is trying to get out and these two have their side of the freeway to themselves trying to get in. They whoop with delight as police let them into a deserted car park where they can watch the storm in safety, only to find that the storm has moved a few miles and is now nowhere near them.

Hey-ho.

However, all is not lost as they speed to the storm and battle through the fierce winds and rain to finally get into the eye of the storm. And what was there?

Erm, nowt really. Just a few puddles.

Stewart spots another storm building a couple of days later and phones home to ask if he can stay on in the US. Alison has reached her limit by now however and puts her foot down. She's going away and it means she won't see him for a couple of weeks. (Personally, I'd be cracking the Champers, but back to the story), "You're pointing an emotional gun to my head!" He cries and stomps around the room a bit determined to stay.

Stewart's on the next flight home.

There's nothing more scary than a storm of a woman's scorn. And by the way, is this programme really a Victoria Wood sketch?

We leave the whirlwind of fun and mirth that is Stewart and Alison in their kitchen having just enjoyed a roast dinner.
"Do you want another roast potato?" She enquires. "No, I'm quite full. I want to ensure I've left room for crumble."

And of course, by now, we've all lost the will to live...

w/c 31/01/09

I'm so glad I tuned into The World's most Enhanced Woman (Channel4, Wednesday, 10pm) as I was feeling a little down as you do from time to time. But compared to the women in this programme I was skipping around the room, kissing the cat, shouting "Hurrah! Rejoice! At least I am normal!"

Mark Dolan travelled the globe to meet the women with the biggest augmented breasts.
It's a hard job, but someone has to do it.

The current Guinness Book Of Records record holder is the UK's Maxi Mounds, but after a phone call to her agent, Mark reveals she has gone into retirement leaving the post open for another bra-busting bird.

His first stop is Las Vegas to meet Crystal Ashley who had her hey-day in the 90s earning $20,000 a week. Now she is stripping, doing porn and living in a pre-fab in a dodgy part of town. How the mighty (boobs) fall.
She had her implants reduced because the silicone was leaking and making her ill. Thrillingly, she has kept the said 5.5 litre silicone implants, now full of what looks like dirty pond water. Thoughts of fairgrounds and winning a goldfish in a bag spring to mind. Perhaps that's what they really used, hence the problem.
But things aren't all that bad. Crystal still has some die-hard fans who follow her around and steal her underwear - perhaps they just need an extra-large hammock to swing in.

Soon we are taken to Brazil, the number one plastic surgery capital of the world, to meet TV star Shayla Hershey who isn't exactly shy either in front of the camera or applying make-up. She is determined to get her already humongous bristols up to 5.5 litres each which would make them the biggest in the world.

As part of the interview, Shayla insists on going shopping in order to get mobbed by fans, maybe most of whom want to crouch under rather large rotunded shadow to shade from the glaring sun.

Shayla has many make-up breaks throughout the day from her on-hand make-up artist and
one couldn't hep but wonder if the sheer amount of it has attributed to her skin akin to a page of Braille.

Poor Shayla came from a very poor background - one of 11 kids. It makes her happy to look good, even if that means looking like a Barbie with beach balls down her boob-tube.

Shayla has booked into a top hospital for a bit of Botox, lipo and of course more saline in her baps. So hungry for publicity, she want the cameras to film the op and so we see her nipples being lifted and more fluid being injected. It's a bit like the action of topping up your screen wash under the bonnet of the car.

Within an hour, the hairdresser is straightening her hair and she has a full face of make-up as she comes round from the anesthetic. "I'm so happy!" She says as tears stream through her inch-thick panstick.

Against the advice of her doctor, Shayla, complete with bandages, throws a party in the grounds of the hospital for all her fans.

And the need for all this? "I just want to be remembered." She says. And I've no doubt she will.

As the only person in the world that is taller lying down than standing up.


What a sigh of relief that 10 Years Younger (Channel 4, Thursday, 8pm) is back minus the wretched Nicky Hambleton Jones and is plus singer/pianist/M&S model Myleene Klass.

Perhaps my wish came true and Nicky had cosmetic surgery on her mouth - to sew it up.

But back to the show. The new format takes to prematurely aged adults, takes them out on the street to see how old the public think they are (usually at least 10 years older than the truth) , then tries to make them look younger; one with surgery and one with more natural methods.

Last night we met Kathleen - a fumpy, mumsie 49 -year -old that looks 60; and Mary - a mutton dressed as lamb, with most of her teeth clinging on for dear life 50 -year -old that looked 63.
Kathleen, who's entire wardrobe consisted of long flarey skirts and tee-shirts, went down the natural route with facial acupuncture, facials and an eyelash perm.

Heavy smoker Mary however, had a chemical peel, brow, face and neck lift and eye tightening. Christ, wouldn't it have been easier to give her a new head?
During her op, top surgeon Yan Stanic commented "She's got thick skin."

Good job, looking like that.

Once Mary's skin had adequately shed, and the bruising and swelling had gone down, it was time for a much-needed trip to the dentist. The plan is to replace most of them with porcelain veneers which is a long and painful task, but so worth it when you have got a gob like Stonehenge.
The next stage involves getting the ladies into more appropriate attire.

Kathleen is put into a knee-length tulip skirt which is very flattering. "My legs haven't been on show for so long!" she cries. I'm not surprised love, with those hamkles.

And so, after hair cuts and colour, full make-up and stylish wardrobe, the ladies are revealed to friends and family and of course, themselves.

And even I have got to say haw fabulous they look. The new poll ages from people on the street? Kathleen now looks 45 and Mary 47.

Sadly, the public thinks that Myleene now looks 53.

Well, you can't win 'em all.