I’m A Celebrity (Reviewer) Get Me Out of Here: Day 17

December 3, 2008 by  
Filed under Reviews

Wow. Did you see Joe complete his task on Tuesday? For the first time since the series began, I was genuinely impressed. He had to scale a giant telephone pole, and pick up stars fixed to it along the way. Thats right, a telephone pole. In the jungle. The jungle where David found a cupcake on the floor. Are telephones used in the jungle much? I guess spiders are more evolved than we give them credit for. There’s a mutant spider in my room that’s been watching me for three months. I’m being stalked by a spider. A spider that knows my bank account details. Joe’s final star was at the very top of the telephone pole, and believe me, it was HIGH. I took one look at it, and thought: not a chance, mate. He won’t even manage the second star. I ate my words, ate them doused in tomato ketchup. Delicious. He managed all 6 stars AND came in under time.

The challenge involved him being dressed in an electric-blue leotard. The producers were clearly aiming to inject a bit of realism into the proceedings. I definitely wasn’t aroused by the leotard, because that would be weird. He put Simon’s bling-white Y-fronts on over it, and, bless him, they were a bit loose. He managed the entire task in as dignified a manner as possible, considering what he was wearing. I was so impressed that I momentarily considered phoning in to vote for him to win, but came to my senses when I saw that all calls cost 50p. 50p! That’s the price of a Curly Wurly, and I’m sorry Joe, but I know where my loyalties lie.

I’m still not used to the ‘I’m a Celeb’ setup. When it came time to decide who would complete the challenge, contestants sat around and decided for themselves who would volunteer. It was all very odd and democratic. Isn’t that what reality television’s all about! Democracy! Yeah! I felt as if they were being treated like real adults, capable of making a sensible and independent decision, rather than as the fluffy-brained jokers that we really know them to be. Every contestant with a soul volunteered themselves, with the proviso that they would galliantly (ha!) step aside and hand over the reins, if another contestant felt a burning desire to put themselves forward. A suicidal contestant with a death wish and a masochistic desire for self-harm.

Why are they all pretending? Volunteering for a challenge is like giving blood. Of course you don’t actually WANT to do it -not unless you really, really like the free biscuits. I got party rings at a blood drive once, that was a real high point in my life. So you don’t want to do it, but you do it anyway, because its the right thing to do, and you know that you have to play your part and contribute as a valued member of society and stuff. David said that he didn’t want to. I’m sure he gave a reason why, but I can’t remember it exactly. It was probably something like ‘because I can’t be bothered’, or,’ because I’ve always wanted to go to hell, and have everybody hate me’. You do already? Result! His choice didn’t go down well with the others – even George said he’d do the task if necessary, and George has Vertigo. Vertigo, David! Oh, forget it. Its like talking to a wall. A selfish wall that nobody recognises, with terrible hair.

David-and-Nicola-gate continues. She has an ally, an unassuming one, but an ally nontheless, in the form of Superhero Joe. David did something to Joe. I didn’t catch what it was butJoe kept talking about how stupidly gullible he had been. Even Ant and Dec were harassing him this week, but he distracted them from their target by flirting with them. They should teach that to the kiddies, instead of this ‘Look! A stranger!’ nonsense.

By Nicolette Smith

When not neglecting her social life and educational development in favour of watching televisual detritus, Nicolette enjoys pretending to be interested in her colleagues children and reading books rather than talking to actual people. She is still young enough to be contemplating getting an offensive slogan tattooed on her person, but old enough to rationalise that this is probably a poorly thought-out plan for the new-and-improved Nicolette of the future.