Since being on Big Brother I’ve lost a lot: about 80% of my sanity, maybe 50% of my integrity and certainly 11 stone of fiancé. I’ve also lost two stone in weight.
It’s funny because when I went in I thought I was in shape. But watching back… no. I was definitely driving down Wobble Street on the outskirts of Plumpington.
This gay is not allowed to abandon the dumbbells until he has the rippling physical power of a horse.
They do say the camera adds a few pounds and there were a lot of cameras on me. I slimmed down because of sleep deprivation, constant stress and uncertainty and then of course the fact that other more selfish greedy people were seemingly obsessed with toasties and sausages and all I could guarantee myself for food was lentils and chickpeas.
Personally I’m glad I had the chance to live on small portions of basic foods and leave the house a leaner more handsome version of myself. Now I just need some muscles to make it count, so I’ve started at the gym again, swinging weights about with gay abandon. And this gay is not allowed to abandon the dumbbells until he has the rippling physical power of a horse. I plan to look completely different in a few short weeks.
If Renee Zellweger can do it to her face, I can do it to my pecs. I think I need a personal trainer. A tall, lean, handsome one… who is single and a bit reckless… and hot... who can lean over my sweaty body and shout ‘push!’ at me… I need a shower. Bear with me…
Okay, I’m back… I am still mates with Jason Burrill after the show and we chat regularly on the phone. He was my best friend in the house and I have such huge respect for him as a real gentleman and a truly, utterly decent bloke. I’ll never forget how many times I thought I couldn’t cope and those big shoulders let me lean in and shed a tear.
So I’m sad to see some of his exes crawling out of the woodwork to cut him down after pics were taken of him and Chloe Khan together. Those exes are a bunch of plastic nobodies with fewer brain cells than boob implants so let’s ignore them. Recently I sat with Jason in a bar and told him to look for an intelligent, classy woman who was beautiful inside and out.
Okay so maybe I wasn’t thinking of Chloe Khan but she seems like a good girl and as far as I’m concerned, as long as my mate is happy, I’m happy. Good luck to them both. Jason is a true gentleman. I know that because he treated me well even when other idiots didn’t want him to. He’s a man of his own mind and fair play to him for putting the silicone ghosts of the past behind him… even though his present might be a tad plastic too.
I can’t believe it’s been 15 years since 9/11. Imagine, teenagers studying for their history GCSEs will learn about the terror attack as something that happened before they were born! What worries me is that so many people still insist on believing those ridiculous conspiracy theories. It’s vile and offensive and utterly pathetic and I cannot stand it.
Every dinner party I hear the same nonsense. “Oh well Princess Diana was killed by the state, 9/11 was planned by America as an excuse to fight in Iraq and Kinder Egg toys have got rubbish.” No, no and… definitely. The most common myth about 9/11 is that the twin towers were destroyed by a controlled explosion.
It’s a completely ridiculous suggestion, reliant on ever more extraordinary claims as to how the secret service managed to pack countless tonnes of corrosive chemicals or explosives around the unhidden internal structure of a building populated by thousands of people.
I won’t waste time addressing the various conspiracy theories in detail because no matter how much evidence you show people, some will only ever want to believe in conspiracies just as they believe in ghosts, God and the entertainment value of Les Miserables. None exist but that won’t stop the wantonly credulous.
To them it’s entertainment but actually what they’re doing is desecrating the memory of those who were killed and disrespecting the thousands of firemen, office workers investigators, police and the rest who would have to be part of the conspiracy to murder innocent people.
To be clear, when you give that knowing nod and your best smug smile and say, “Oh well 9/11 was orchestrated by the state,” be sure that you are not only a pathetic, gullible idiot, you are also an insensitive cretin.
Did you see the creepy house, advertised on Zoopla this week? The most shocking thing about it is actually the price tag. I can’t imagine anyone paying £1.2 million for it but then again I can’t imagine anyone paying to go to an Ed Sheeran concert and they do. But have you seen that bedroom? Knives, guns, skulls, masks.
It’s like Vladimir Putin’s bedroom only without the secret stash of gay porn. It reminds me of some of the bedrooms I’ve seen in my time. Yes I’ve seen a few. How many? Just a few. I lost count. Hundreds. Anyway, there was the one with the mural of Michael Jackson that made him look like Sandra Bullock crossed with Mussolini.
Then there was the one with the crucifix tactically blue-tacked to the ceiling above the pillow end of the bed. The one with the creepy messages written on the bed in biro. And the one which, like this awful nightmarish bedroom, made my skin crawl. I’ll never forget it. He had bird skeletons. EVERYWHERE.
Anyway! I’m having so much fun writing for Entertainment Daily! Keep those eyes peeled next week for my latest celebrity news, and don’t forget to follow me on Instagram @realandywest and Twitter @andywestTV