May 08, 2005
And So It Begins…
Welcome, readers!
Tonight the new season of Big Brother finally kicked off - and what a spectacular kick off it was, etc! I spent the entire show making frantic notes in one hand and text messaging fellow devotees with the other. I think I sent and received over a hundred messages tonight, which both makes me feel warm and happy - and infinitely depressed. Vodafone must be rubbing their hands in gleeful anticipation of the next few months worth of bills.
Nonetheless, you’re not here to read about little old me - you’re here to talk Big Brother, so let’s get on with it! I have documented the emotional journey I undertook whilst watching the launch of the show, so you’ll really feel like you are “in the moment”. Hopefully.
Lights! Camera! Action!
The show kicks off with a retrospective of the very first Big Brother. As I watch the clips, I am forced to remember a time when Gretel Killeen was a brunette. How you’ve mutated grown over the years, dear Gretel! I am also pleased as punch that they’ve decided to run through Gretel’s “fashion” choices during the last four seasons of Big Brother. The big question is - what will Gretel wear tonight?
From the smokey shadows on stage, Gretel emerges… and she’s a platinum blonde dominatrix! Ever see that rubbish sci-fi show where the aliens and the humans lived side by side on Earth, and the alien skulls were pinkish and over-sized and spotty? Gretel looks like that, only crossed with a character from Children Of The Corn. At this point, Fop calls me to ask whether I agree with his speculation that Gretel hides the Big Brother secrets in her hair.
Suitably, considering the Mistress Killeen outfit she is currently donning, her first words - after a quick hello and fake laugh - are a sharp “Sit down!”. I think Gretel needs to apologise to the make up artists for whatever she did to make them so resentful toward her, as they’ve given her a very odd squinty-eyed look - as we say in our household, “piss-slit eyes”. Poor Gretel.
Still, she seems excited to be here and keeps talking in a deeply confessional manner. She wants to tell us the Big Brother secret, but decides (after a quick consultation with her ear piece - yeah right) to tell us later. Or as she says “I’ll sneak the information into you later!” Pardon me, Gretel - you’ll sneak it into me? In what form - a suppository? This should be an interesting if not slightly intrusive season for the show!
She does mention the existence of an imposter though, and we’re informed that none of the house mates are aware there’s a rat in the ranks. We are not to mention anything about the imposter to the new house mates when they come on stage. At this point, I expect Gretel to whisper in her beautifully condescending manner “Remember - quiet as a mouse…” but she holds off. I suppose it’s a good idea to keep some things for the first eviction.
But before we meet the new house mates, let’s welcome the old winners! Here they come down the walkway - ooh look! It’s Ben! He’s a smarmy Liberal supporter now and great mates with the Howard boys - his hair looks much better though! Here’s Peter - and my, I’d forgotten how powerful his eyebrows are! It’s as though two furry caterpillars are courting on his forehead, bless! Oh Reggie, you giggling Gertie of daftness - still lovably dim as ever! Hey, who’s that bootylicious man shakin’ his bon bon? Why, it’s the proudly big bummed (and recently married) Trevor! Yay, memory lane!
Gretel, seriously. What is with the hair? Around our house, we’re quoting the Simpson’s episode where Bart, Lisa and the kids decide to do the radio show after seeing the movie with the freaky blonde children. “We know aaaaaall yoooour seeeecrets!”
Now we’re shown a clip of the Big Brother auditions, and there’s a shot of Gretel wearing low cut jeans whilst standing in a throng of wannabes. Dear god, has she got a TATTOO just above her giney?
Some of the funnier auditions are shown - and keen Idol watchers will recognise that one of the would-be housemates is, in fact, the adorable bloke who did the song and dance rendition of Lost Without You and confided his goal in life was to turn everything into a musical number. We still heart you!
These ad breaks are quite irritating. Speaking of irritating, how about the constant “down there” cream commercials? “That ought to have gotten rid of the men. So now we can talk about thrush.” Oh good. I was dying to have a natter on about vaginal issues with my television.
And we’re back! Let’s meet our first housemate, shall we?
We are shown the video package for Constance - at first glance, she appears to be a shoddy knock off of Kelly Clarkson. I receive an SMS roughly five seconds after she appears on the screen - “Mad cans”. Touche, Fits. Constance keeps threatening “to go mad”, as though she’s a live wire of crazy behaviour, but as we all know - truly mad people don’t talk about being mad, they just live it. On the upside, she hates positive people. Right on!
My biggest concerns for her are eyebrow-related. She may not be able to maintain them properly in the house, and they seem like the type to enter the Peter Corbett-sphere if not regularly attended to. Fop rings me at this point and assures me that if Shappelle Corby, bless her innocent soul, can keep her eyebrows in tip top shape whilst residing in a Bali jail for a crime she so clearly didn’t commit, then Constance should be able to do a fine job in much better circumstances. Do you love how I just weighed in seriously on the Corby affair completely out of nowhere? Strap yourselves in, I’m likely to bang on about all sorts of things for no reason whatsoever in this Big Brother blog.
Now Gretel tells us that Shane Warne the Cameraman will be giving us a tour of the new house. We see the Diary Room, and I note that tissues are already on the coffee table. I had no idea Saxon was entering the house again? The colour scheme of the house is likely to drive the housemates either mad or blind. Perhaps both, if we’re lucky.
Shane escorts us to the bathroom - and we see that the walls of the shower have patches of magnifying glass in them. I bet Blair McDonough is gutted such a flattering viewing window wasn’t around when he was in the house.
We see the outdoor area and we’re informed there’s “something” behind a wall. I suspect that on the other side of the divide, they’re storing Gretel’s little known twin sister - a horribly deformed creature with an anger management problem raised on a diet of raw meat and arse whoopin’s, and they plan to unleash her on the unsuspecting housemates in a murderous plot to boost ratings. We can only hope!
What else does the house have to offer? Well, there’s a pole for dancing on, and a sauna. They’re really trying to cater for a completely pornographic Uncut, and I applaud the producers for this. Anything is better than entire Wednesday night episodes of the so-called “naughty” edition of the show being jammed packed with footage of a meatball footy head reciting Jeff Buckley lyrics to a would-be paramour. Fryzie, I’m looking at you here.
Now we’re back to Constance. She’s in the “waiting room” for people going into the house and she looks lonely, confused and somewhat adorable. Am I going to like her? At this point, all signs point to yes.
Time for our second housemate - meet the ultra-confident Christie. I have nothing against confident people, but I always like them to have, oh I don’t know, something to back up their bravado. Christie talks about herself as though she’s an absolutely stunning genius, but one suspects she’s wrong on all counts. She talks about her sexuality and seductively regurgitates for the camera “the door swings both ways” - nice. Gotta love imagery of your vagina as a revolving door, doll face. Talking to Gretel onstage, Christie’s response to most questions seems to be “you only live once” - an awful cliche the first time it’s uttered, an indication of deep idiocy when repeated four times in succession. During the chit chat with Gretel, Christie turns to the audience and pipes up “I’m perfect…” and the joke falls flat. Good.
Our third housemate appears to be the Queensland franchise of the Monica brand. In simply three contestants, it would appear Big Brother producers have met the necessary quota of bogans. Good job! Michelle seems pleasant and inoffensive enough, and when she posed Ralph-style in swim wear with her best friend Zelda, I couldn’t help but feel for her. She and Zelda are really going to miss each other. Zelda. Can I say it one more time? Zelda.
We cut to footage of the waiting room and Christie is meeting Constance for the first time. Constance, bless, believes that the waiting room IS the Big Brother house for the year. She points to the two doors in the room and announces “That’s a toilet, and that’s locked.” There is a moment of stillness in the room as both girls try to absorb the information, and if you turn the volume up on your television just enough, you can hear the ocean. In other news, congratulations to the scientists over at Southern Star Endemol laboratories, who have successfully managed to clone Ashalea - twice! Finally, the girls discuss what they were thinking while on stage. Christie exclaims “It didn’t function!” and one assumes she is talking about her brain.
Fourth housemate time! Meet Dean - he kicks things off by announcing he doesn’t care what people think of him, he’ll be himself, he’s not afraid of stirring people, blah blah blah. Then he informs us that he can fit his fist in his mouth, and I suspect that’s not the only place he’s put his fist in. Gretel is clearly smelling fresh meat, and she’s barely able to talk once he’s standing next to her onstage - her eyes hungrily undressed him, and she felt a… hang on! This is not an erotica blog! Dean seems like a bit of a tool. I will keep my eye on him, don’t you worry.
Back to the waiting room - Michelle goes in and introduces herself to the other two housemates. The combined IQ of the room is boosted to an impressive 70.
More housemates! We meet Kate, a self-confessed feisty girl who works in administration. Grrrrrr! She claims to have strong opinions and compares herself with Margaret Thatcher. That ought to get the blood pumping in the lads at home! She has a bizarrely intense fear of birds which is worrying, but can imitate a sprinkler like you wouldn’t believe. This skill will no doubt aid her in achieving her goal to become “like Donald Trump”. I suspect she may have to settle for Omarosa, but we’ll see.
Waiting room! Dean enters a room full of girls, and it’s obvious to all and sundry that the ladies want to sex Dean, they want to sex him right in the mouth. Twice.
Next housemate - it’s Logan! No doubt Logan is a very nice and trustworthy young lad, because the only other male I’ve known to have that name was Mary-Anne’s boyfriend in the Babysitters Club, and he was a Southern slice of delight, wasn’t he? He confesses that his mother was worried about him having “sex with girls” in the house. It would appear she has no problem with him indulging in a bit of bum sex with the fellows, though. That’s a relief.
Back to the waiting room. Dean is flirting with Michelle, and I begin to conclude that I may just love the busty Constance. She’s sitting down drinking a beer and watching the other girls with a look of sheer disdain. I’m feelin’ ya. We hear Christie use the phrase “I reckoned it” and I begin to feel homicidal. Please, I have already had to deal with Tabs from The Resort’s bastardisation of the English language (earballs, indeed!) in this lifetime, I don’t deserve anymore punishment.
Good god, folks! Angela Bishop has entered the Big Brother house! Twenty eight years old, my arse. Housemate Ol notes that Angela is a “strapping girl” and he expresses admiration for her Thorpie-like shoulders. When referring to her heart post-break up, Angela utters the rather poetic sounding sentence “it always repairs to love again”. Awwww. We meet her mother Eva, who tells us with a foxy wink that her offspring is “extremely cheeky cheeky”. To translate into practical terms, she tends to get pissed on a few champers after work and distribute hand jobs like they are going out of fashion. KIDDING, LAWYERS, FRIENDS AND FAMILY MEMBERS! SHE HAS NEVER SEEN A PENIS! DON’T BE MAD AT ME!
Fresh from his recent honeymoon, it’s Nathan “Marty” Martin! No wait, it’s not - it’s another lovable roguish country boy for the nation to embrace! Meet Glenn. He seems to be dumb as a post and totally adorable. On stage, he tells Gretel he’s “pingin’” which we can only assume is a good thing.
Angela Bishop enters the waiting room and the boys could not be more unimpressed.
Who will housemate number nine be? Why, it’s another one of that randy McLeod bloke’s daughters! Meet Busty McLeod aka Gianna. She enjoys horse riding, martial arts, putting her ankles behind her head and showing her rack. She will fit in nicely. Gretel continues pretending inexplicably that the housemates “might not” be going into the house. Whatevs, Gretel. Gianna tells the audience with a wink that we’d “be crazy not to have me” and just like Christie’s earlier attempt at playful egotism, the joke dies.
Back in the waiting room, Glenn enters and heads straight for the pile of beer. Afterwards, he aligns himself with the penis owners, and steals glances at the girls like an eleven year old boy at his first school dance. My housemates adore him, by the way.
Housemate number ten is Tim. He declares he hates John Howard and Lleyton Hewitt, and is a complete and utter lefty. Whether being on the side of all that is good and right in this world will help him when it comes to the voting public remains to be seen. Steer clear of interest rate talk, and you’ll do fine.
We cut to the waiting room and Gianna saunters in. Pools of glistening drool form at the feet of the menfolk as they spy her impressive bust. Meanwhile, the sheer falseness of the camaraderie forming between the girls is inspiring and flashes me back to my high school years.
Our next housemate is referred to as a thinker and strategist from Queensland. Surely a contradiction in terms! I joke, I joke. Nelson proudly admits that he voted for Howard so quite clearly he’s evil. Besides, there’s only room for one Nelson in my heart, and I think we know who THAT is. When he stands on stage, the ever-hilarious Gretel tricks him and tells him he’s not going into the house… but then tells him he is! What a great joke! We love great jokes, don’t we Fop?
Lefty Tim enters the room of waiting peeps. Chrissie sizes him up immediately. He is supposedly a journalist, and her struggle with the English language tonight has been thoroughly gripping. Will theirs be a star-crossed love?
Another housemate! We are shown a baldy, nose ring wearing, arse brandishing, madly laughing fellow named Michael. He tells us he likes girls because “they’ve got boobs” - I can’t argue with that! He describes himself as a “relationship freelancer” and also informs us that he hates bimbos. I don’t suppose anyone has had the heart to let him know about the potential three months of hell he faces, if that is the case. Gretel Killeen - why are we pursuing this “are you going into the house?” line of questioning? We all know they’re here to go in, let’s not pretend anymore. Oooh, Michael just called one of his piercings his “super nip” - I really like him.
Token bisexual girl alert! We meet Geneva, a young gal who, depending on the angle of the camera work, appears to be a curious mix of dowdy receptionist and rock star with a heroin problem. I fear she may well snap in the house, as the girl has serial killer eyes. This is going to be great! Geneva tells Gretel that she’s extremely close to her younger sister and is worried about her “growing up and changing while (she’s) away”. Fair enough too - three weeks is a long time in the world of a teen. I only hope they recognise each other on the eviction stage once the journey is over for Geneva.
Waiting room! Michael walks in and announces his presence with a massive laugh. He chats away comfortably with everyone right away, and if Carmel Hill (WHERE ARE YOU?) were here, she’d be calling him the “alpha male”.
Round about now, Fop sends me a text message and rightfully asks “But where are the GAYS?” A valid point. I have high hopes for Hotdogs though, and tell Fop to just hold on a little longer - hope is not gone.
Back to the waiting room. Geneva is escorted in and immediately cuddles Alpha Michael excitedly. Two thoughts cross my mind at this point. The first? Geneva is a goddawful name. The second? I loathe Christie.
On stage, Gretel tries to convince us that Michael and Geneva are a potential couple. Oh yeah, Killeen, that’s going to be a reason to turn onto Uncut - AND THEN STAB MY EYES WITH A HOT POKER!
Now we meet another new housemate - the infamous Hotdogs! He tells the camera that he’s worried about the size of his cock. Dude, it didn’t hold Blair back, it shouldn’t worry you either. By about his third aside to the camera, I start to realise that this joker is going to talk about himself in the third person the entire time he’s in the house. It’s like Fryzie for a new generation! His ideal woman? “Someone who likes cooking and cleaning” he jokes. Champagne comedy! We see footage of him kicking a footy in the park and spurring himself on to athletic glory by shouting “C’mon Dogs! Go Dogs! Dogs scores again!” I will fly to the Gold Coast personally and kill him if this doesn’t cease at once. He then tells the camera that he wants to be the greatest lover in the world. I can’t help but wonder why on earth he goes by a name like HOTDOGS if that’s his goal. Gretel is swooning once again. Goodbye, Graxon! Hello, Grotdogs!
The audience are informed of the rules of the show, and you just know that somewhere in the list there’s going to be a new wacky rule that we’re all supposed to drop our jaws over. Sure enough, the final rule is a simple “Rules change” - oh Big Brother, you unpredictable little man! What other surprises can you possibly pull out from your limitless bag of tricks and mischief?
Gretel looks smug. For those of us who are complete morons, she slowly explains that the new “rules change” rule means - gasp! - that Big Brother can change the rules. Fuck me dead, Gretel! I didn’t have a clue! I secretly hope that the first rule to change will be the “housemates may only speak English in the house” clause, and everyone is forced to communicate in Lithuanian. I love the idea of fourteen hapless bogans forced to refer constantly to an Lithuanian dictionary in order to get anything done.
The first change to the standard rules, Gretel tells us conspiratorially, is that for every offence committed by the housemates (not wearing a microphone, etc) $5000 will be slashed from the million dollar prize. Imagine that! Gretel shrugs her shoulders and suggests that by the end of the show, perhaps the winner will owe Big Brother money! She was a stand up comic once, you know.
Back to the waiting room. Will that cunt really be called Hotdogs all season?
Housemates are told that they may now enter the house. Constance (or “Constonance”, as befuddled Glenn insists on calling her) is highly confused as she thought they were all sleeping there. God love her.
Finally - we get to watch them interact in the house. Each year, I am always astounded by how bland and false the conversations are on the first night. Everyone walks around checking out the new digs, and Housemate Nelson sneaks into the new bedroom and begins delivering a monologue. Please don’t address your thoughts out loud, you filthy Howard lover!
Chrissie asks “who’s sleeping with me” - I’ll leave that one right alone.
Gretel is off the stage and now standing in what we’re told is the Isolation Room. Sealed off from the house and the outside world, it seems that a mysterious extra housemate will live here. They bring in the surprise housemate with a black pillowcase over his head, and I begin to fear he is going to be sacrificed to some sort of reality show God, but they whip it off and we see that it’s… Logan? But Big Brother, this is impossible, Logan is in the house, etc! Turns out the internet rumours were correct and “Logan” is, in fact, an imposter! “Logan” is actually a combination of twins Greg and David. Greg (Logan of the Isolation Room) tells Gretel that “the two of us are one person” and I’m a little frightened. Locking Greg-Logan in the Isolation Room reeks of the Simpson’s episode where Bart’s twin Hugo lives in the attic and is fed fish heads. Can Greg-Logan expect the same sort of shabby treatment? Is he the evil twin?
Gretel tells Greg-Logan that he will be switched with his brother in the house sporadically, and if Greg-Logan and David-Logan manage to keep the housemates convinced that they’re only one person for two weeks, they’ll both be allowed to stay in the house. My housemates point out that David-Logan appears to have a scar under his eye which may make it easy to identify a switch, but judging from what I’ve seen tonight, I doubt anyone in the house is cluey enough to note it. Either way - how exciting, Big Brother!
To wind up the show, we’re shown about ten minutes of footage straight from the house. They’ve been in there for literally minutes and somehow Constance and Nelson are completely drunk. “Is there anyone that you hate?” asks Constance, skipping small talk and getting straight to the juicy stuff. Oh my GOD - she’s flashing the camera and they’ve been forced to BLUR HER VADGE! This is glorious. They’re also already talking about “playing the game” (surely a fine-worthy offence, Big Brother?!) which means we’re hours away from hearing “That’s massive!” and “You’re jooooking me!” in the house.
In the boudoir, Christie (or is it Michelle? Does it matter?) attempts to flirt with David-Logan.
“I keep thinking you’re Leroy.”
“Yeah.”
Spectacular.
Back to Constance - we see she’s completely smashed, still flashing her noo-noo with gay abandon and apparently in the middle of having “issues” with the other girls in the house. Christ almighty, is she going to be Aphrodite II?
To the bedroom! There’s been a massive fight already over Dean “peer pressuring” (in Thatcher’s eyes) Constance to drink. Hey, wasn’t Constance just outside? What the hell? Don’t tell me this thing isn’t live! Anyway, Thatcher channels her inner Katrina and begins to ramble on about thesauruses and dictionaries. Dean lashes back with some rubbish, and for no apparent reason the two of them continue to use the word “mann-u-risms” as though it were part of the English language. Someone desperately needs to club them both about the head.
So there you have it, gang! My God, I feel like Moses must have after he finally finished taking dictation from God on Mt Sinai - only my work is slightly more important. Kidding, Bible bashers! Lay down your weapons!
I am confident this is going to be the worst best Big Brother ever, so please be sure to stay and watch with us, mmmkay?
— Filed under
Comments / Trackbacks (URI)
Sex & Politics Working Group
Eat your heart out, Ruddy - nobody's going to be interested in how Hillsong votes for the next three months because the hot political issue is whether housemate Lefty Tim the journo will come to blows with Nelson (can his first name be a coincidence?) ...
http://www.twosittingducks.com/weblog/archives/000171.php
Following the enthusiasm shown by Hannah, not to mention other Oz Blogs such as Ausculture and Anonymous Lefty I too have been sucked in by Big Brother. After watching just first couple of shows, it’s frightening if these people represent all th...
Big Brother
Following the enthusiasm shown by Hannah, not to mention other Oz Blogs such as Ausculture and Anonymous Lefty I too have been sucked in by Big Brother. After watching just the first couple of shows, it’s frightening if these people represent al...
Jess, mighty impressive work on a hangover…. thanks.
Gretsky’s hairdresser must die… preferably bound at the wrists & ankles by platinum blonde hair extensions & thrown into a vat of 40 vol peroxide to drown slowly.
Hotdogs - surprised this one got past the psychologists, dude could be teetering on the line between stupid & scary, only time will tell.
These women truly understand the power of the rack and work it to the nth degree. Combine that with monumental inter-fem competitiveness & double beds and you’ve got a recipe for blue balls en masse.
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Gwen Stefani is too old for that haristyle and is ten years younger than Gretel.
Nuff said.
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Yes, yes, we know you don’t like her.
rolls eyes
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Actually, I dont have a problem with Gretel per se. Her “humour” just isn’t something I find amusing… and there is no dignity in a middle aged woman dressing like a 15 year old.
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Love the cynical attempt to re-capture the glory days of Merlin’s silent protest by playing up the political views of the housemates. Yeah, totally spontaneous.
I think death-beasts and lefties alike are going to end up embarrassed by the standard of argument that takes place in the house.
Message to Gretel: If you’re going to take so much effort with your appearance, do a better job, k?
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Gretel looked completely fabulous. This is the definitive view; please do not get this wrong in future.
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SuperKing is mad, where are the gays! They even put a sauna in there. Bisexuals do not count BB.
This third person caper is so much fun, I totally don’t feel like a wanker.
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Now, now, young man - you’re not mocking The Fop, are you? If there’s one person I allow to refer to themselves in the third person, it’s him. You’ll note I am being very gentle to Gretel - this is how highly Fop is held in my esteem.
Also, WE REALLY DO NEED A GAY OR THREE! Gutted.
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But Fop is all written in the glamourous FIRST PERSON PLURAL, seeing as though there really and truly is a whole TEAM of writers banging it out ever so regularly over at Fop Towers. We don’t write in the third person!
IT’S ALL SO CONFUSING
collapses
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Upon second thoughts, I have concluded you weren’t mocking The Fop. But you two are clearly in sync, like a virtual Timberlake + JC Chasez, since Fop uttered almost those exact words on his blog, and that is, I fear, why he wondered if you were taking the piss out of him.
So much love. I love everything!
dribbles
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I know the internet is rife with plagarism but I swear I didn’t see Fop’s blog until a minute ago. Sorry if any offense was caused.
Put it down to Gay DNA to mock bisexuals. (sorry again)
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This is so beautiful. Sniffle.
You two crazy kids are so…. LOGAN!
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Hopefully we’ll get the chance to expose our arses on TV
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Meet Glenn. He seems to be dumb as a post and totally adorable. On stage, he tells Gretel he’s “pingin’” which we can only assume is a good thing.
He must mean pinging, Jess, as in sending a trackback from one’s blog.
See I had the definition even without any mann-u-risms!
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I’ve actually only heard someone say ‘pinging’ before as in ‘I’m pinging tonight’ … as in taking lots of naughty things :) I’m sure our lovely country boy wouldn’t know anything about drugs though.
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Tim looks like Leisure Suit Larry
For those who don’t remember, Larry was a middle aged video game character who went round trying to pick up women in his pink blazer.
www.leisuresuitlarry.com
In other news, Gretel looks like Legolas the elf after a massive night out on elven wine.
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BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I have spent all day trying to work out who he looks like. And you got it.
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On Housemate Tim: http://commentariat.redrag.net/2005/05/09/you-read-it-here-first-big-brother-housemate/ (In lieu of a proper trackback).
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Gretel has turned into a crocodile before our very eyes. She is a slow motion science-and-culture experiment in ageing.
She just about held onto a bloom of health in the first series, but now she can only function by eating concrete with her muesli.
For a genuinely brave version of the real Gretel, go to the Archibald finalist entry here.
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Well David, she’s no oil painting…
… oh wait! SHE IS!
(splits own sides)
Her head has certainly seen better days in that portrait, but my god - those boozies are incredible.
PS: A fixed link…
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Jesus, can everyone please stop being turds about Gretel for maybe an hour or so? She looks amazing. She is brilliant, almost certainly the sharpest wit on Australian TV (along with John Safran and some of the Chaser people). She is funny, smart, empathetic, witty, gorgeous. And she does a bloody hard job - I can’t imagine any other Australian TV celebrity being capable of simultaneously:
- controlling the idiotic, screaming crowd
- having to link live to the house
- having Big Brother yap yap yapping in her ear
- being amazing for the cameras and delivering the bon mots
- being squeezed into something ridiculous
EVERY SUNDAY! My GOD. Lay off, bitches! I am totally serious about this. Gretel should be the Prime Minister of this nation. Why can’t people see how fucking good she is?
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Fop, you can count me in as a member of the Gretsky fan club. No doubt about it. It’s a killer gig and she does it very well. Full respect.
I happen to think she’s a babe too which makes me all the more sorry to say she looked atrocious in the head department last night. She’s clearly too busy with other business to pull her out-of-control stylists/hairdressers/make-up artistes into line. Doing a Paris Hilton on a 40+ woman = monumental disaster.
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No, Gretel is one of those mean girls at high school that said deliberately cutting things thinly disguised as a joke.
Thats not funny. Just mean.
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She is hardly a “mean girl at high school”. And if she was such a girl, she would have been one of the fabulously mean ones who everyone secretly admired despite the fact she was a bit of a bitch (in a hilarious way).
How does Gretel say “cutting things”?
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Oh Fop - deep breaths now, my beloved man. Deep breaths.
Gretel had a hard year last season, and we’ve got absolute faith in the fact she’ll TURN THINGS AROUND this year.
(please don’t kill me)
(or any anti-gretel commenters)
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On the subject of “the gays” I’d say if they were to have intruders then one of them would be gay. It’s happened almost every year, either one of the original housemates is gay or one of the intruders is.
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Grotdogs!
PURE GOLD!
Keep this up and I may have to start liking this steaming pile of a show.
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And I thought I was the only one who wanted Hotdogs dead. Thank god.
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Hotdogs is just screaming out to be renicknamed Weiner.
i (gulp) didn’t manage to watch bb05 last night so thanks for the synopsis miss jess.