The Hell of It All Read Online Free Page B

like and what they think and what the really great thing about them is. Frighteningly, Charley’s not on coke. Can you IMAGINE what she’d be like if she was?
    Actually, there’s no point imagining. She’d never get hooked in the first place. Pass her a mirror with a white line on it, and she’d automatically blow it out of the way to get a better look at herself. She can’t strut past any vaguely reflective surface without compulsively pouting and checking her hair. Stand Charley in front of a weeping widow at a funeral, and she’d command her to keep still while she checked her reflection in the teardrops.
    Maybe she’ll be out by the time you read this; it’s possible, although I’ve given up assuming. She’s been stuck in there so long, and against so many odds, she feels like a ghost that’s been haunting the building for centuries. Chances are she’ll steadily eat herself alive – courtesy of that weird hand-chewing thing she constantly does – rather than be evicted.
    With weeks still to go, rumours abound that yet another twist is in the offing. After the All-Girl Opening twist, the Prize Money twist, the Fake Eviction twist and the Unconvincing Australian twist, loyalviewers suffering repetitive twist fatigue must be praying for a Not a Twist at All twist in which precisely nothing unusual happens. Although if there MUST be a twist, I’d welcome one in which the twins have to run out of the nearest fire exit and keep going until they’re 10,000 miles from the nearest camera or microphone.
    Incidentally, is it me, or are they not ‘identical’ any more? One’s getting thinner, and the other one’s swelling like an ankle. It’d be interesting to see if she’s put on precisely the same amount of weight as the other one’s lost. In fact it might even make the show seem like a valid ‘experiment’ after all. Hey, what’ll happen if we feed one of them nothing but baking soda for a week? Let’s find out! Cool!
    Speaking of experiments, Brian is now my favourite to win. Under-educated rather than stupid, and with a voice so low and slow it sounds like the electronically disguised intonations of a silhouetted whistleblower in a hard-hitting documentary, Brian’s so inherently sweet-natured he’s impossible to fully dislike, even if you strain your hate cells.
    You know how you can always cheer up an upset toddler by hiding your face behind your hands, then parting them quickly and saying ‘peek-a-boo’? And you know that dopey gurgling smile that spreads across its face when you do that? Well, that’s Brian basically. And that’s why he should win.
The endearing Jamie Oliver [4 August 2007]
    Jamie Oliver. Now there’s a man who provokes a reaction. On the one hand, he’s a cheeky, knockabout TV chef. And on the other, there’s Jamie Oliver’s Cookin ’: Music to Cook By.
    In case you’d repressed this particular abuse memory, Jamie Oliver’s Cookin ’ was a compilation CD released (and heavily advertised) in the year 2000. ‘A good blast of these tunes, a nice bit of tukka and some good company is the recipe for a nice time. Happy days!’ said Jamie in the accompanying blurb. Yet track one is ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ by Toploader: the sort of song that comes on the car radio while you’re gassing yourself with a hose, and merely serves to reinforce your decision.
    The TV ad featured Jamie on drums, bashing out a pukka rhythm and wearing a gummy open-mouthed grin, like a drunk who’s just kicked his own teeth out and thinks it’s hilarious. It caused many to regard Mr Oliver with a level of contempt normally reserved for war criminals.
    I didn’t make up my mind until I caught wind of the outpouring of middle-class smug-o-wank surrounding his School Dinners series, which gave despicable 4x4-driving parents something to feel all superior about: they could tut at the McNugget-wolfing pauper kids while simultaneously shovelling chargrilled asparagus and parmesan shavings down