day 9

Maggot, previously my touchstone in the house, is having regrets about his past behaviour. With his, Chantelle, Preston and Rula’s encouragement last night they all happily played charades and everyone had a great time. I wonder then how much alcohol has had to do with the previous hormonal nights and sullen days. But now they have all run out of fags, apart from Maggot. I wouldn’t want to be locked in a house with a load of cold turkey smokers.

There will be booze (and fags?) tonight as it’s Traci’s birthday and Jimmy Saville is rumoured to be carrying. Traci doesn’t want to celebrate and won’t reveal her age, not realising that’s it’s here for all to see. Or maybe Dennis constantly referring to previous drunken LA nights has left her nervous about drinking? Maybe she’s Jodie like over there.

George doesn’t want to go but has a grip and realises that once he’s been out for 20 minutes he’ll be fine. Of course he doesn’t realise that his constituents are up in arms (get it?). He missed a vital Parliamentary vote yesterday. Pete is worried that George will be evicted and feels certain that Jodie is staying. He doesn’t want to be around her at all. Jodie wants to go. She is still moaning about how she’s been treated even though everyone else refers to it as in the past. She feels that Pete has been much nicer to everyone since he’s been nominated. I’m glad that she had a good night last night, as it is most likely to be her last. She is currently segregated again with Chantelle and Preston. They are in the pool. Chantelle, a bleached blond, doesn’t want to get her hair wet as the water may contain bleach. The oldies are speculating about what Jodie will say in her blog and to the NOTW. She is renown for washing her dirty laundry in public. Rula will leave Britain if Jodie wins. She’s grown fond of Pete and thinks that he has become less outrageous in the last 2 days. She thinks that’s it’s incredible that he hasn’t cracked up having spent the last 2 years having intensive surgery to some plastic surgery gone wrong. I agree, for someone so into how he looks, that could have killed him. He must have had to climb his way out of a huge depression.

Michael, the golden oldies human jukebox, sees everything as a cue to a song and has constantly led the house in song. He is growing on me. He constantly laughs at himself, even his tears and is currently pleased that the tank appears to be empty.