Last night I was afforded the opportunity to shout drunkenly (work drinks. Three beers coupled with cold medication on an empty belly will do that to me) at either the cast of 'Oh My God, Like, Shut Up, it's Not At All Fake Street, LOTS Of People End Up Bumping Into Each Other In Marbella Armed With a Camera Crew, 'n Junk' or the jungle fodder. I went with the latter, mainly 'cause it started earlier. I'm fickle like that.

There's not much to say apart from Shaun Ryder should win. He made a sh*t scoffing Bush Tucker trial enjoyable due to his running commentary ("this is trickah... tastes like yoghurt *munch, munch, munch* but with the consistencay of shoelaces...") and a thankfully a near dormant gag reflex. He only started heaving slightly half way through scarfing a 6-month-old fermented duck egg: "Ah don't know wha ahm heavin', jus' tastes like egg." Yeah but you've got green sh*t oozing between your impressive new teef, Shaun, you'd have to be dead not to retch.

He's also doesn't like perving on the young nubile sorts. Quite the opposite in fact. When informed the women would be joining the male camp, he said he didn't "mind the old ones", he just couldn't handle young birds chattering away. In fact, when pressed, he confirmed he wasn't arsed meeting anyone new, making conversation 'n that. That would explain why he once ignored me on Brighton Pier. But of course he did, he doesn't know me. Bez, on the other hand, pulled up a pew - not for the conversation mind, he was more interested in pilfering pint dregs.

There's rumours of Shaun leaving. Apparently he's quite ill, you see - that's according to his newly acquired wife, Joanne: "He suffered a collapsed thyroid earlier in the year - nobody knows about that (until now, obviously). We got told that he could lapse into a coma in the worst-case scenario, if the condition hadn't been diagnosed and treated. Everyone watching I'm A Celebrity will have no idea what he's been through. He has to go for blood tests every month and see specialists but that's why he's been sleeping so much (see, he's not that rude). He'll be on these tablets every single day for the rest of his life."

More pertinently, Shaun himself said he was thinking of leaving, today no less: "It's Friday tomorrow so I might bail tomorrow because it's not like taking the money and running, is it? I've done a full week... It's doing my nut in. If I do two weeks, they'll have to take my shoelaces off me (noticing a trend). I accomplished what I had to do by coming in here so I'm not really bothered. I've got nothing to lose by going out."

In the event Shaun goes for a hop, Dom Joly (he arrived with Jenny Eclaire on last night's show) is next in line for my love. He finds Stacey one of the more intelligent camp members, has likened Lembit to a puppy, is stunning at charades; and fought in female kind's corner when Linford started banging on about men being the be all and end all of everything. What a guy. He's a bit rubbish with spiders though so it'd never work out.

Tonight, McScreech is up for yet another third bush tucker trial tonight, something to do with fish. In the meantime, here's a load of near nakedness (or, in Nigel's case, full).