On borrowed time?
As Siavash lay in a pretend rabbit hutch slowly munching through carrots, dressed like a vagrant Geisha girl, things were kicking off inches away in the communal area. The cause of the row appeared to be Freddie‘s hysterical glee that arch-rival Lisa might finally be getting her comeuppance. And not a moment too soon. Channeling the spirit of an extremely grumpy lesbian, she has done little more than slump at the bus stop awaiting transport out of the house that never looked like turning up. That particular wait should come to a very welcomed end this Friday. Her conversations with David have been the listening equivalent of watching two monkeys curiously poking at a mirror attempting to decipher their reflections. Brainiacs, they are not.
David, sadly, further proved this when explaining to Bea that he didn’t want to blow their disagreements “out of precaution”. Either he was clumsily attempting to quash their long term row, or he was making a sudden change of subject, and honestly trying to tell her that he’d run out of condoms. But we doubt that.
Elsewhere in the house, Hira spent six hours attempting to smash a cake with her face, Marcus explained his unbelievable outburst in which he called David a “fat cunt” by insisting that where he comes from, they say things like that “every four words”. In which case, his days as a popular window fitter could be drawing to a very sudden close. And Charlie has seemingly run out of things to say.
We still want Siavash to win it.
The most entertaining housemate? Really?
After a couple of weeks of thinking that David – the big gay Frankenstein’s Monster from Yorkshire – might be slightly brain damaged, it was finally confirmed yesterday when he judged Hira to be the Most Entertaining Housemate. It was a move akin to naming Jordan the World’s Greatest Perfumer. Hira, beyond her Mad Lizzy exercise routines, has done nothing. On an even more worrying note, David appears to be limbering up for a battle with the Bea, Marcus, Freddie triangle of doom, after rumours got out that he’s been spotted wandering mouth first around the fridge when no one’s looking. Food theft is a dangerous game, and – rather deliciously – it could make him toast as early as the coming Friday. He also has a massive crush on Rodrigo, which is a worry for the little Brazilian. Might there be a Lennie, Of Mice and Men moment in the pipeline?
David aside, much is still going on in the house. Bea has taken to dressing up as a jumble sale, Freddie promised to express himself in a “wonderful way” during his talent contest solo, and he may have ejaculated mid-song by the looks of things. He might also have confused the word wonderful with really really appalling. His “shoobie-do-waps” were almost enough to induce a nationwide stately home bricking spree. Sophie has no future in the rap game. And Marcus, it seems, cannot have both his mouth and his eyes open at the same time. It’s either one or the other.
Siavash, still, is our number one.
Oh, and this guy left…
After just over a week of prowling the house in t-shirts made for men half his size, wearing trainers and a hat in bed, and eating breakfast like it was a workout, his muscles taut and angry, veins throbbing as he spooned economy cornflakes into his tight, muscular mouth, Tom has left the building. He cited being bored as his reason for flouncing out in the middle of the night, but we have a hunch that once he realised that Noirin had accepted the hairy Iranian lips, he was no longer needed. His parting shots involved telling a confused Rodrigo that he’d win the show, and upsetting bosomy Sophie by alluding to her boyfriend Kris being a prat. Something we’ve known for weeks, thanks Tom. He won’t really be missed.
Elsewhere in the house, Marcus has been floating angrily in the pool, unable to compute that women don’t really find him very attractive. It might be the stupid redneck hair, it might be the Tony Montana tatt on his leg, or it might be that his erosion technique of wooing doesn’t work outside of Brentford. Persistence quite possibly pays off in some outer regions of West London, especially when you’re a sexy window fitter with tatts, but in the Big Brother house where everyone is so super-attractive that you could be watching Hollyoaks, he looks like a gargoyle at a Barbie and Ken party.
Lisa, meanwhile, has come to resemble David Beckham through the eyes of a very disturbing acid trip, Hira no longer bothers saying anything whatsoever – which is lucky, as her voice sounds like a gorilla playing a Moog – and Bea might yet stand for biiiitch, as she has taken to being a little bit slaggy-offy.
Siavash, as ever, is our number one.