BB blames the BBC for our drink problem. Every xmas, we look forward to nothing more than eating and drinking in front of the telly. Recently though, we’ve had to start drinking a hell of a lot more to make up for the crap we choose not to watch on TV. This year will evidently be no different (the odd Doctor-mentary aside), and therefore BB will be unconscious by 7pm on xmas eve (traditionally the time at which they used to show The Wizard of Oz annually, but we were unfortunately too young to drink back then). That way, we can avoid anything presented by Dermot O’Leary or Jimmy Carr (“Dermot says the show sounds too crap even for him? OK, try Jimmy!”).
Jimmy Carr, of course, started out as a comedian whose shtick was a completely dead-pan delivery with overtones of an extremely reverential bishop. Realising that the gimmick wouldn’t take him much further than Duncan Norvelle’s old “Chase me!” routine, he broadened out (or maybe “oozed” would be a better word) into TV presenting, showing less discrimination than a cut-price street walker. This career eventually bottomed out with Distraction, a Friday night “comedy” game show, part of which involved people attempting to urinate before a studio audience.
On your deathbed, Jimmy, BB hopes you remember that this was the sum total of your contribution to humanity: you brought televised pissing to the masses.