Pass my revolver

In years gone by families would pass on the secrets of their trades to their children. So you'd get small dynasties of coopers, fletchers, carpenters, sagger maker's bottom knockers etc. Now it seems that vile Jordan woman is actually encouraging her two year-old daughter to start a new type of dynasty called tits-getter-outers. Jesus wept. Can we not switch that woman off?

Any parents of girls reading this - would you like your small daughter to find titilating Britain's builders and van drivers a worthwhile career option?

Get me out of here. Please.

I had the grave misfortune of watching the last half hour of I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here last night. Hopefully you didn't see it. I don't know what it is but I was slightly shocked at what was happening to Katie Price during her so-called 'Bush Tucker Trial'. Regular readers will know that I don't hold her in particularly high regard but some people must surely have gained some pleasure in seeing her get a ton of cockroaches shoved down her coat, boots and hat, wretch over a beetle smoothie and tip her head into a school desk full of frogspawn and live meal worms. Surely this is just some kind of masochism for the masses watching on TV? Yes, I know it's her choice to do it and she's getting paid well blah blah blah, but quite frankly I went to bed a little disturbed about what we've become as a nation of telly watchers.

Here's something much more palatable, because it really is nice to be nice.

Jordan: The Comeback

I woke up this morning and thought that I'd dreamt that I'd read in yesterday's Daily Star that Katie Price had said "Rape is a subject very close to my heart." Turns out I hadn't dreamt it.

If you believe they put a man on the Moon

I've decided I like niceness. I think events over the past few months have taught me to be a nicer, more tolerant person. I've even decided to stop dissing other people's taste in music; if you like it fine, please listen and gain your pleasure from it. (besides, I can hardly talk considering I own albums by Yes) I like the sort of all pervading niceness you get on say the Radcliffe and Maconie radio show, which is just like listening to your mates banter punctuated with some quality tunes. Or I like the sort of niceness you get on BBC4.

Well, I thought I'd turned to niceness until the weekend. It started off badly with me coming home from work on Friday night to be confronted by Friday Night Jonathan Ross. The line-up was Vivienne Westwood, James May and Rufus Wainwright. Westwood came out and it was pretty obvious from the off that she there to bang on about the environment and how we were all fucked. She didn't need to tell me that, I know already, where's she been for the last ten years? Personally I think, by the look of her, she's been playing an ageing Elizabeth I in yet another film about the troubled Tudor monarch.
Then, after James May who spoke more sense about the fragility of the earth and environmentally-friendly transport in the space of a minute than Westwood did in her whole interview, they wheeled on that droning sod Rufus Wainwright. What gives with him? Is he the emperor's new clothes because I can see absolutely nothing to attract me to his music whatsoever. I've worked with openly gay guys and they've all been the most happiest-in-their-own-skin people I've ever come across. He makes being gay sound like a slog. Besides, he must have some pretty saucy snaps of some high-ranking BBC official considering he was interviewed on Radcliffe and Maconie on Wednesday night, had a full hour long Imagine film dedicated to him on the same night and on Friday had fifteen minutes with Jonathan Ross to plug his new sodding opera which no one wants to see.

Now, lets' move on to Master Chef, I only watch the celebrity ones as I can't be doing with real people cooking lamb with a redcurrant jus. How come Middlemiss won? After a week of cooking challenges, where she was proved to be the worst cook, she made the best all-round meal at the end and won. What was the point in the previous bits of the final if they're not going to be taken into consideration? I've never liked Middlemiss anyway.

Moving onto Saturday and the only two minutes I caught of that Katie Price interview left me spitting my cider all over the settee. She went on television and told everyone she'd had a miscarriage. Is there nothing she'd like to keep private? Then she revealed she'd 'ran the marathon bleeding.' (presumably the London marathon) Did we need to know that? Of course not.

I'd like to say though how much I've enjoyed BBC 4's series of programmes marking the 40th anniversary of the Moon landings. I love all that old NASA stuff. One programme concerned Neil Armstrong's withdrawal into being a semi-recluse. Can't say as I blame him, after all, what are people going to ask you? "What was walking on the Moon like?" That's what people ask you. How tiresome would that get? And let's not forget, he was good at his job which is why he was picked as an astronaut. He didn't do it for fame. Do you think ITV would show an exclusive interview with Neil Armstrong on a Saturday night? A man who, let's face it, has a million more interesting things to say than Katie Price, Jordan or Rufus Wainwright added together. No, I don't think they would either. More's the pity...

Katie Price has her knockers...I'll get me coat

I've just heard this on the radio: "Katie Price has been giving her reaction to the marriage break-up between her and Peter Andre". How can you 'give your reaction' to a something that you've had a hand in yourself? It's hardly as though it's a big shock to her, is it? Lets not forget that she's famous for lobbing her ridiculously-sized fake breasts out for anyone and everyone.

Did anybody really think that their marriage was anything other than a well executed publicity stunt? I don't trust any of these so-called celebs any more. Look at Lewis Hamilton and his girlfriend, the Pussycat Dolls singer Nicole Scherzinger. I was watching the build up to the Spanish Grand Prix on Sunday and there she was standing beside Hamilton's car, looking, well, like a doll. Put it this way, her being his girlfriend is good for Pussycat Dolls business in Europe, and she's good for his profile in the US where nobody watches Formula 1 but where they're constantly on the lookout for the next Tiger Woods. Besides, I believe that Hamilton is incapable of a human emotion like love, especially when he openly cheated in his sport and then tried to shift the blame on to someone else entirely.
And don't even get me started on Cheryl Tweedy and Ashley Cole, otherwise m'learned friends might become involved, but we all know what's going off there, right?
My point is that these so-called 'celebrities' think we're thick. Why does Gordon Ramsay give off this family guy image when we all know what he really likes (don't we?). Same goes for David Beckham who has been proved to be unable to keep it in his tracksuit bottoms.
So, I would like to make it known that I'm banning celebrities in my house. Or even better I could become a celebrity myself, after all, I'm not particularly good or talented at anything, which never stops Heat magazine featuring you. So if any paps want to come and stand outside my house and take photos of me walking to the paper shop with my iPod earphones in and not exactly looking my best, then they're more than welcome. I can feel the buzz of the Hello!/OK! bidding war beginning as I type.

Edit: There's a good bit in today's Times which touches on Hamilton and Scherzinger by the always excellent Giles Smith here.