Last night, millions of people tuned in to watch a pair of tits wretch over crocodile eyes and the odd kangaroo bollock - for half an hour. When did this become prime time entertainment? Ah right, when Paul Burrell screamed, squirted and gagged his way through a similar gland all those years ago.
 
Some find the sight of nondescripts losing control of their stomachs on TV a hilarity high point (the fellah being one. Pretty ladies spewing are a source of particular amusment to him. I do wonder...), but I find it unnecessary and, well, basic. Looking at Mickey from EastEnders (we'd call him Joe, but there's no telling where he ends and Mickey begins) heaving over deceased scorpions and wriggling grubs, while Ant and Dec stand to the side, faces hidden behind clenched fists, just doesn't do it for me anymore. Why not dispense with the trials and just put a box of meat in the middle of a crudly drawn out grappling ring on the forest floor. Some mud could be sprayed when the girls have to fight. Now that's the future of the coveted 9pm slot.

Nicola, meanwhile, has clearly been reading Jordan's Glamour Model Guide to Getting More Work Through Degrading Oneself, While Wearing Clothes and No Make Up, on National TV. She squealed on cue, balked at the thought of touching anything other than her hair, and wretched alongside Mickey in a touching show of empathy. Then, when it was her turn to actually eat something, she pounded around gagging with gusto, AND caused a ball bag to projectile its contents across the table. She even managed to squeeze in a predictable moment of bimbosity (she asked if she could get pregnant after ingesting "crocodile semen"), all in the name of feeding her camp ("the men need to eat more than anything"). Absolute TV gold. As Esther put it, in undoubtedly the line of the night; "Nicola swallowed it all".
 
Miss 32G's swallowing skills went down well with the public as she escaped tonight's Bushtucker trail (probably partly due to the fact that the producers kept cutting to footage of Carly when flashing Nicola's number on screen, and vice versa...). Instead, that joy will go to Robert Kilroy-Silk. Mickey, however, wasn't so lucky. He shall be joining Robert to howl with horror when stuck in a tank filling with water and some other sh*te, while he has to unlock stars from something or other. In other "trial" type news - when the camps merge, two contestants will be "kidnapped by terrorists" and will only be released when their campmates part with their food rations. Topical.

If they did an Irish version of this, Twink would play a blinder. They could herd herself, Thelma Mansfield, Maxi, BiBi Baskin, Ronan Collins and Andy Ruane off to some remote part of the Phoenix Park. They'd have to fashion huts out of long grass and deer dung, while their only source of sustenance would involve a nightly rummage through the bins outside the tearooms. Twink, however, would snub this quest as she enjoys the feeling of hunger. Seriously, she said on last week's riveting Livin' With Lucy "I like being hungry". After this proclamation she divulged her daily menu; a bowl of flakes topped with berries, and the occasional dinner... Why would one "like being hungry?" (or even openly admit to such a thing?) Is it because, when you're consumed with that encompassing feeling, all of life's other problems - which you have no control over - take a back seat? In which case, Twink should take herself off to certain parts of Africa to give seminars on the joys of hunger; she'd never be out of work.