Whenever I see an old documentary about the 70s (or the 90s more recently) there always seems to be some old boy, talking-head saying "Well, everything had gotten so stale, people were bored of the same faces and same shit coming out. It was ripe for a shake-up". I feel like that about now.
And then there were six. Whether or not they are the right six, I cannot say I believe all the finalists are entirely deserving of their place in the final week of Big Brother, but it is a game at the end of the day and this series has been an odd one so far, that's for sure.
Despite the fact I made my short but sweet return to the house on Tuesday to effectively stir things up within an eventful 60 seconds, this week proved to be a little more interesting than previous since my departure.
For the first time this series, I'm genuinely gutted with this week's eviction outcome. Another twist that took place last week has essentially backfired again, leading to the eviction of the alpha-male in the house.
As the weeks go by I feel as though the number of housemates I can safely say "I like" are rapidly decreasing. This week appears to have been a key turning point when it comes to my opinions of a number of them.
After Thursday night's joke of a launch night, quite frankly I've seen enough to realise that what used to be THE best reality
I was in a basement disco in Kiev a few nights ago at three o'clock in the morning.
If we are to believe Tolstoy, happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. This is