'She looks predictably dour': Victoria and David Beckham at Silverstone last week. Photograph: Kerim Okten/EPA
As we all know (ahem), it's an exciting week on Big Brother this week, with fake housemates, fake evictions etc etc etc, and to celebrate Big Brother's Fake Week in this week's reality blog round-up, I've decided to ignore it completely. Just pretend it's not there.
However, this does leave me a bit of a problem, what with it being the only reality ON British television at the moment. Still, I am committed to celebrating Fake Week, and thus will persevere.
Not necessarily ON British TV yet, (though it will be, I have no doubt) some pictures have been released of Victoria Beckham's upcoming NBC reality special Victoria Beckham: Coming to America, in which she looks predictably dour and, in one, appears to be threatening a group of small children with a offensive weapon. Sadly, I don't think that can be the case, as that would be extremely exciting, and if the footage had been extremely exciting stuff, I'm guessing the show wouldn't have been downgraded from a series to an hour-long special already.
Our Happy American Reality-Viewing Cousins, meanwhile, have been enjoying all sorts of goodies, such as America's Got Talent whereas we have a littler country and so ours only lasted a week, their version seems to go on forever, and rather than just ending it, they kill the contestants off to whittle the numbers down. Well, that's not strictly true. One of the 'final 70', Ivan the Urban Action Figure, which is a name I could frankly say over and over again, bounced onto stage and hit his head and lay there unconscious while everyone wondered whether it was part of the act or not. Oh just watch it here, if you like to see people hurting themselves.
I was finding mentions of the Singing Bee everywhere until I could actually find out what it was. And while I think the idea is genius - it's well explained in this recap from Timeout - I'm slightly terrified of it crossing the pond. Testing British live audiences knowledge of lyrics by getting them to sing on demand sounds like Michael Barrymore gone bad. But then, so does Michael Barrymore, so I suppose it's inevitable.
I've been missing Ze Frank. I've been missing my dose of Ze every day since March, and still would be missing him, if the pain wasn't alleviated by my new Internetty TV addiction, to Cute With Chris. He makes me so happy.
So happy in fact that not even the news that Heather Mills McCartney wants to rehabilitate her career by Dancing On some Ice can drag me down. In fact, it sounds quite jolly. In a 'national pariah with increased chance of publicly falling on her arse' kind of way.
