And so Edwina “Salmonella” Currie and Jake “Who?” Quickenden joined the I’m A Celebrity posse. The girls perked up immediately as Jake hoved into view. “Wow. Wow, wow, wow,” said an impressed Kendra, although given that she then said exactly the same when Michael Buerk bitchily filled everybody in with a potted history of Edwina’s parliamentary exploits (eggs, sex) perhaps “wow” was a word she had just learned, and wanted to try out.
Prior to joining I’m A Celebrity, Jake, a set of tattooed hormones barely contained in a budgie smuggler, had declared himself hopeful of a jungle romance, preferably with a “Milf”. This is bad news for Melanie Sykes, but probably means Michael is safe from his amorous attentions. Time will tell.
Kendra, chosen to do yet another trial, screamed her way through every second of it as she was spun round in a large jam jar with hundreds of cockroaches for company. It was hard not to feel some sympathy for her, and even harder not to see her being chosen by a gleeful public to do every trial. Ant and Dec asked her how she thought her camp mates would greet the news that she had won only one star. “I don’t give a shit!” she squawked, as several rogue cockroaches emerged groggily from her cleavage.
Meanwhile, Jimmy and Foggy formed a greying bond. “Joggy” lay contentedly together in a hammock, playing unfunny pranks on Mel Sykes, showering as a twosome and doing everything except groom one another like a couple of mountain gorillas.
Eggy and the Milf-Botherer were told they were on a secret mission, and should choose another camp mate to join them. They chose Jimmy, who took some convincing that it wasn’t all a joke. His long grey locks flowing limply from his tiny head like an under-nourished squirrel too tired to bury its nuts, he expressed amazement that he should be chosen ahead of the others. So did at least one viewer, but perhaps Jimmy exerts charisma only effective in the flesh.
Meanwhile, Michael has eschewed Titchy – sorry, Tinchy – for Vicki Michelle. They are the Statler and Waldorf of the camp, and I am enjoying their sofa commentaries hugely. If they can keep it going, I see a couple of rejuvenated careers: sign them up, ITV. You won’t be sorry.
A snake moseyed into camp, and Kendra predictably screeched “OH MY GAD! ITZA SNAYECK!” for the benefit of anyone who thought it was a draught excluder. Equally predictably, Kendra was chosen to do the next trial. Take my advice Kendra, and swallow your screams. Or you’ll be doing trials until Christmas.