This Weekly Entertainment News Round-up. 21st November. The week’s showbiz shenanigan's

-




Well, gather round, you slack-jawed readers of Britain’s finest bogside literature, because the celebrity news this week has been more chaotic than a kebab van at 2am.  

First up, I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! has returned for its 25th series, with Ant and Dec once again grinning like Geordie meerkats. The line-up is a fever dream of British telly: Martin Kemp (Spandau Ballet bassist and professional “yes, I was in EastEnders too”), Kelly Brook (model, actress, and eternal lads-mag pin-up), Ruby Wax (who will no doubt psychoanalyse the campfire), Lisa Riley (Emmerdale’s Mandy Dingle, ready to wrestle a kangaroo for airtime), and Shona McGarty (EastEnders’ Whitney Dean, presumably hoping the jungle is less traumatic than Albert Square). Add in rapper Aitch, former Lioness Eni Aluko, and late arrivals Vogue Williams and Tom Read Wilson, and you’ve basically got the cast of a surreal ITV fever dream.  

The tabloids are already salivating over who will eat the most marsupial genitals. Martin Kemp looks like he’s preparing for a Bushtucker Trial by rehearsing his “I survived the 80s” speech, while Kelly Brook is tipped to win purely because half the viewing public still have her posters blu-tacked to their garage walls. Ruby Wax, meanwhile, is expected to spend three weeks explaining the psychological trauma of being forced to eat witchetty grubs while Ant and Dec giggle like schoolboys.  

Elsewhere, the soap world is in mourning as Shona McGarty officially bowed out of EastEnders after 16 years. Her jungle stint is being billed as a “fresh start,” though readers will know it’s really just an excuse to swap fake tears in Walford for real ones when confronted with a bucket of fish guts.  

Meanwhile, the gossip columns are buzzing about Angela Rayner reportedly dropping out of I’m A Celebrity after advanced talks. ITV clearly decided they’d had enough of politicians after the Nigel Farage debacle in 2023, proving once again that the only thing worse than eating kangaroo anus is watching a politician try to look relatable while doing it.  

And in the “celebs behaving like normal humans” category, Jack Osbourne has joined the jungle too. Expect him to spend most of his time explaining that yes, Ozzy is still alive, and no, he won’t be biting the heads off jungle critters—unless ITV gets desperate for ratings.  

So, to summarise: celebs are queuing up to eat bugs, soaps are losing long-serving stars, and ITV is desperately trying to prove it can still shock us with a line-up that looks like the guest list for a particularly chaotic wedding. I'd would call it “Celebrity Bollocks: The Marsupial Edition,” 
-

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Murder, Marrow, and Mayhem: The Unsettling Charm of the English Countryside.

-
Image
The English countryside.A green and pleasant land it was called in days of old, with Rolling hills, quaint cottages, sheep that look like they’re judging you. It’s all very charming until you realise that behind every hedgerow lurks a scandal involving jam, adultery, and possibly a vicar with a suspiciously large collection of antique swords. I mean, dear reader, let’s be honest. In London, sin is upfront. It wears a trench coat, sells knockoff Rolexes, and occasionally yells “Oi!” for no reason. But out in the countryside? Sin is passive-aggressive. It invites you in for tea, compliments your shoes, and then casually mentions that your great aunt may have poisoned her bridge partner over a disputed game of whist. You walk through a village with a name like “Little Diddlebury-on-the-Wold” and think, “How lovely!” Meanwhile, the local Women’s Institute is embroiled in a turf war over who gets to organize the annual scone bake off, and someone’s prize-winning marrow has myst...
Read more

The Unfunny Business of Laughing at Your Troubles.

-
Image
People say, “Laugh at your trobles”? Like it’s a prescription. Like your therapist is a stand-up comic. “Take two chuckles and call me when your life collapses.” I tried it. I laughed at my debt. Visa didn’t laugh back. I laughed at my ex. She took the house. I laughed at my job. They gave it to a robot named Clive who doesn’t even blink. Troubles don’t go away when you laugh at them. They just sit there, smug little bastards, multiplying like rabbits on Viagra. You laugh at one, three more show up wearing clown noses and asking for rent. And the worst part? People think it’s healthy. “Oh, he’s coping through humor.” No, Karen, I’m coping through whiskey and sarcasm. Humor is just the garnish on my existential cocktail. They say laughter is the best medicine. Yea? Try telling that to someone with a kidney stone. “Don’t worry, sir, we’re out of morphine, but here’s a knock-knock joke.” Laugh at your troubles, they say. Sure. But don’t be surprised when your troubles start do...
Read more

The Gilded Shoebox: A Peek Behind Palace Gates.

-
Image
Buckingham Palace, That gilded shoebox where the royals play musical chairs with taxpayer money and the corgis have better healthcare than half the country.  So there it stands, like a giant wedding cake made of limestone and entitlement, slap bang in the middle of London, guarded by blokes in furry hats who haven’t blinked since 1974. It’s got 775 rooms, 1,514 doors, and not a single one leads to a Greggs. Tragic. Inside, it’s wall-to-wall gold leaf, antique furniture, and enough chandeliers to blind a small village. The King’s bedroom? Bigger than your entire flat, and he still complains the Wi-Fi’s patchy. The royal loo? Rumoured to flush with Evian and play Handel’s Water Music. Tourists flock to it like moths to a flaming pile of privilege, snapping selfies outside the gates while wondering if the guards are waxworks or just really, really bored. Meanwhile, Prince Whatsit is in the back garden trying to remember which cousin he’s not allowed to marry. And let’s not...
Read more