The Apprentice or “As Useful as a Cock Flavoured Lollipop”

I make no secret of the fact that I’m not a huge fan of reality TV, but like any good middle aged moaner it’s always advisable to have some knowledge of what you’re ranting about. At its core there’s nothing essentially wrong with reality TV and for the first couple of series some of these slices of TV ‘entertainment’ aren’t inherently bad. You either like reality TV, loath it or have an air of indifference about it. Unfortunately because they’re cheap to produce television executives keep rolling them out over and again until they become a parody of themselves and eventually all that’s being wheeled out is some dead, rotting corpse that stinks the place up something awful; the only reason we don’t notice is because we’ve all become as vacant as Holly Willoughby staring into an autocue desperately trying to find the full stops. So yes, I have at times succumbed to the power of reality TV and, admittedly, have even enjoyed it on occasion. Master Chef anyone?


So, onto the Apprentice. I watched and enjoyed the first, was bored by the time I got half way through the second and wanted to scratch my own eyes out by the third. A new series has begun this week and I felt compelled to have a quick look to see if it might entertain. It took about 10 minutes for me to decide that eating a bucket of shit that had been left out in the sun for a whole day would be preferable.

Ill explain.

The girls and the boys were divided into two groups with their first task being to conjure up a snazzy, original, but empowering team name. Quite a simple task one might imagine until this Janet Street Porter look alike who seemed to have tore off Pinks peroxide blonde, spiky scalp and then proceeded to staple it to her own head, said:

“I think we should call ourselves Winning Women!”

Yeah, you can see where this going.

One of the other female ‘contestants’ then piped up suggesting that might not be such a good idea because at some point the groups would be put into a mixture of boys and girls, to which our Janet look alike replied:

“Oh yeah, that hadn’t actually occurred to me…”

No poppet, it clearly didn’t, and you want to know why? BECAUSE WHEN YOU PACKED YOUR SUITCASE TO EMBARK ON YOUR GRAND ADVENTURE YOU PUT IN A PORK PIE INSTEAD OF YOUR FUCKING BRAIN!