F*&^&!!"ing £$-*&^%x and wil extra $%^&"*ly £&%^$ap!
Pardon my language but F**K!
let me put my cards on the table, I would rather have a drunk with the shakes shave my testicles with a cut throat razor than watch "Big Brother 9". This, more than any reality TV program is a steaming heap of shite freshly squeezed from the rear pointing sphincter of a dyspeptic aardvark.
No, you are right I don't like it, and I don't like it a lot!
For the next 13 weeks I am destined to observe colleagues, friends and family gradually be sucked into the dark maw that is Big Brother vectored Advanced Information Anxiety. This particularly nasty disorder is characterized by sweaty wondering if there have been any new developments in the Big Brother House while you have been reading the Big Brother House Web Site's resident doctor tell you in great detail how many house mates you need to have simultaneously sitting on one of the specially designed red Ikea Sofas so that you would have the same cumulative IQ as the amoeba that lives down the plug hole in the web cam enabled (with surround sound) Big Brother House Shower Room. The amoeba is, if anything slightly, more entertaining.
This is really NOT a good advertisement for the way we as people treat other people. "Britain has got talent", "I'm a Celebrity get me out of here", "I want to work for a fat bearded rich bloke who is rude and who has chubby hairy fingers" otherwise known as "The Apprentice",
"Pop Idol" and the "X-Factor" and heaven help us "love island"
When we watch this or any of that ilk , all we are doing is pointing and laughing at the fat, awkward kid with cheap glasses and scabby knees, because it makes us feel better that we are not him.
We have reverted to the days of The Bedlam where for a Farthing you could go and see the loonies paraded, dribbling and/or raving behind the safety of the bars of the asylum. All we have done is replace the bars with the anonymity of the TV screen or live web cam. We should be ashamed, I know I am!
PS and I hate Coldplay too!