Originally Posted 10 July 2008
So, the housemates have spoken. No, this isn’t a news update from “Overcoming Social Shyness Boot Camp” – but from Big Brother, because in fact housemates have done more than just speak. A lot more. They’ve only gone and nominated some poor bastards as well.
Mario and Becky are the ones facing the metaphorical chop (Note to contestants: there is a difference between metaphorical and literal – Sylvia, when Dennis left, you had NOT literally had your heart ripped out) – but what do housemates know? Nothing, that’s what. Look at them there, sitting around, farting, scratching themselves. They probably don’t even know their own names. With this in mind, I am going to help you decide who should go.
To put it simply, both of them have to leave. But to put it even more simply: Becky has to go.
I know it’s tempting to want to be rid of Mario. I mean, if we look at things logically, as he would want us to, he’s a tosser. A real tosser. But he’s a laughable tosser. Watching him can be funny. If you pretend what you see is scripted, and that Mario is just a very good actor, he becomes a bona-fide comedy character. I get a strange thrill out of watching him turn private detective in rooting out fellow housemates’ lies (“She claims to enjoy running marathons, but I haven’t seen her run one single marathon in this house. Makes you think, doesn’t it? She’s probably not even a real woman. Unbelievable!”).
I take some sort of sadistic pleasure in listening to his health and safety lectures. I mean, in yesterday’s show he warned of the dangers of a dropped rubber band on the floor. A rubber band! I mean, rubber is specifically placed on shoes to help them grip things! Bloody hell. If you trip on a rubber band you deserve to injure yourself, or at least hear a 2 hour review of your haphazard lifestyle by Mario.
I even enjoyed hearing him recount Luke with tales of his distinguished career as a postman. This story, incidentally, ended in Mario enigmatically proclaiming he left the job for reasons he is not at liberty to discuss. I’m sure he would have us think that his dismissal involved him swallowing a letter bomb and shitting it out as a health and safety form, but in reality he was probably fired for something more like hiding naked in post-boxes, waiting for someone to come along before somehow flopping his inert penis out of the letter gap. Or something.
In summary, Mario can be made funny. Just. He has been pushing it as of late with his manipulation of Lisa, wo minus Mario is probably a decent person, but we’ll let him off. Anyone who can stand there, looking wistfully into the distance, as if a ‘Nam veteran remembering the horrors of war, repeating the words “Sick Bitch” to himself during a conversation about Belinda, deserves some seerious ‘AT’ (that’s ‘air time’ - if you’re not down with Mario’s lingo).
I should divert here to mention Belinda. Or ‘Belinda Belinda Belinda’ as she keeps calling herself. She walks around announcing this little mantra, and explaining it with the quirky info-titbit that hearing a name three times helps you remember it. OK Belinda, but why share that piece of knowledge with us three times as well? Huh? What happens then? Will we remember that? I keep hoping that every multiple of three in which she says this phrase will slowly be creating some sort of linguistic wormhole which will eventually swallow her up and render her speechless for ever.
It’s not even about the memory really, is it? It’s rampant egotism, that’s what it is. I bet that line of conversation carries on in her head even after she’s managed to suppress it verbally. “Belinda Belinda Belinda Belinda Belinda Belinda..” The outwards expression of this is probably just some form of ego-tourettes. I bet even her oft-discussed snoring is probably some form of nocturnal attention seeking.
From one tedious idiot to another, and simultaneously back to my main point: Becky - she should go. She’s annoying, ignorant, loud, sulky, shallow and cruel. That may sound harsh of me, but hey, even she agrees. Left alone in ‘prison’ by herself for 5 hours she was going mad and screaming to be let out, in some futile attempt to escape from herself and her own company. She even kicked in a mirror, angry at it, so so angry at it, for it is after all a constant reminder to her of her own pitiful existence.
I do wonder about mirrors. Shouldn’t good looking people have to pay more for them? You’d pay more money for pictures of more attractive people, so why not reflections. That’s probably really shallow of me. Still, could be something to exploit. I could sell mirrors on eBay as narcissism porn. Some vain lowlifes will probably buy them. So long as I can bear to be rid of them, it's a winner.
Becky needs to go. Soon. I mean, she’s made me tolerate Mario. That’s worrying. Mario's clearly not even laughable. I'm as deluded as him. Evict her, evict her now. I’m warning you. If she’s still here next week, expect a long and thought provoking blog on why Alex was a lovely person. I’ll mean it as well. With Becky as a benchmark, everyone will come off well. It’s up to you. Becky leaves, or my sanity does. You decide.