So What's Been Happening?

Well, owing to the current plight this country is in, I didn't get myself much sleep on Thursday or Friday night, worrying about jobs, money, drink, and all of the other shite that runs through your head when you just want to have a wank and turn back over, so because of this I was flicking through the channels at 5 on Friday morning.

Other than some mong called Paige on channel 37, sprawled out on a settee in some seedy London studio, pretending to be speaking to perverts on the phone who are either horrifically ugly high powered businessmen getting their kicks from their company paying off their phonebill full of filthy texts/calls to premium rate numbers, or daytime nonces who've just put a shift in of teasing toddlers tushies with cream cakes and fondants in the playground, to come home and crash out on their semen spattered sofa's and open a six pack of Muller Rice and dousing their cock in it to ease the friction burns, erm, aside from Paige, I flicked on to the Big Brother live feed to see what was happening.

So, I report, at 5am on Friday morning, a few of the older housemates had retreated to beddy byes, the younger, keener, cock hungry ones were still awake, marking their territory like wolves. Seriously, Rebecca may as well have cocked her leg and pissed on Dale. In fact, there's that much scent-marking going on I'm surprised the cleaners aren't getting called in to get a Dyson on the amount of piss and shit that's soaking into the carpet around Dale's feet.

The token situation was explained to the housemates, whereby they can buy a day's hot water for a token, or buy some drink for a token, or buy some hairdryer time. At which point, Pollard pig piped up "Does everyone need to get washed every day?". Are you serious? Not all females equate hygiene to scrubbing their front arse with a full Doner you horrific skank. God only knows what sort of fragrance emanates from her battered Coventry fadge, but I'm willing to wager that it's as foul as some of the tunes that come from her Coventry brethren, The Enemy.

As stroke victim Mario has now proposed to Stephanie as part of their secret task, I'm feeling more and more alarmed about the comparisons being made with Stephanie and Abbey Clancy. What's the crack like, they've both got hair and skin? Seriously man, I've got more in common with Clancy. Stephanie isn't even fit to pull Clancy's tampon out, and where I'd be willing to crawl naked over rocks and glass to break the spine of one of Clancy's mammoth turds with a Biro, I wouldn't even be prepared to use the same bog as Stephanie, you can catch it off a seat, you know. I bet Stephanie can't even shit properly, I bet her shit is shit compared to the mighty Clancy.

Anyhow, stroke victim and shit shitter are now sharing a bed, much to the jealousy of stroke victim's transsexual boyfriend, Lisa. I think Lisa is getting a bit of the green eyed monster, which is funny really, as she does look like she's got a bit of the Lou Ferigno about her. I've never seen her in the pool yet, but I'd imagine he'll/she'll have her bulging muscles out and be wearing really shit burgundy swimming trunks.

The show that was on on Friday night didn't feature much more than Thursday night's live broadcast, the only other thing of interest was that pumpkin-headed Yoko on steroids wandering round by herself looking for a toilet when directly in front of a door marked "Toilet".

I've still not been able to bring myself to watch the live feed so I've not got much else to report at this time. In all honesty, this drab set of tossers have even left The Sun struggling for sensationalist bollocks. One of their top exclusives today (Saturday) was a picture of Dale sniffing some poppers. I'm sure they're just building themselves up to a summer of destroying each contestants lives and the lives of their families, but they're all fair game so keep the lies and propaganda coming.