As I’m sure a couple of you might have picked up on by now, I have grown out of indulging in reality TV shows.
Gone are the days of settling down with the Wallace family on a Saturday night to watch the X-Factor and tuning in weeknights to watch people shamelessly embarrass themselves while locked inside the Big Brother House.
However, there stands one final real-life show that I watch, purely for the fact it’s extremely satisfying seeing celebrities bicker over the smallest of things, such as emu droppings.
You guessed it: my current telly favourite is I’m a Celebrity! Get Me Out of Here. Why would you not want to watch A-Listers moan about life’s simple pleasures?
As a loyal I’m a Celeb-er, I have never seen a camp as dramatic as this for years.
For those of you who choose not to watch probably the most hilarious reality show on air, I am sure you have, at some point, heard about the scandals taking place in the Australian jungle.
I am the first to hold my hands up and admit that I was excited to see Lady Colin Campbell’s efforts in the jungle, but now I can’t wait to never hear or see her again.
Let’s talk briefly about the deeper, more philosophical meaning to plonking 12 celebrities randomly in the middle of the Aussie jungle during storm season.
Wait – there is none. It’s just absolutely brilliant TV.
It’s great to see celebrities in uncomfortable situations but it’s also fantastic to see them be themselves. None of them are any different to us.
Before I became a student journalist, I vowed that I was going to be famous, simply so I could go on I’m A Celeb.
Plonk me in the jungle any day – Lady C wouldn’t know what had hit her.