One forty-one PM.
Charley is in the garden with Nicky.
They’re dissecting Heidegger’s principle of Phenomenology as discussed in his groundbreaking work Sein und Zeit.
They are examining his concept in German so as not to lose the subtle nuance of the philosopher’s keenest thinking.
Meanwhile in the caravan Ziggy and Liam have held a seance to bring Albert Einstein back from the dead.
‘Where’s the Ho’s and Bitches?’ asked the ghostly apparition of the German-born theoretical physicist.
‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Ziggy.
‘The snatch, man, where’s the juicy booty?’
Liam tactfully cleared his throat.
‘I’m sorry Albert, we called you here to help us construct a new paradigm for the conceptualisation of relativisitic cosmology that Ziggy’s been working on.’
The world’s greatest thinker paused to assimilate the task the two Big Brother housemates have set themselves.
Then he shook his head, said ‘Nah, screw that, dudez. I wanna get me some grab-ass.’
And then I wake up.
Einsten and Heidegger are just figments of my overheated imagination.
Most of the Big Brother housemates really are as stupid as they seem.
Carole and Liam show a frightening amount of intelligence compared to their fellow housemates; they don’t really belong in the shallow end of the gene pool.
Chanelle has just said, ‘Swedish? What language do they speak?’
And Charley has just said, “Where’s Nepal? Poland?”
Now Charley is doing her very best impression of Catherine Tate without even drawing a single breath, ‘I ain’t bovvered do I look bovvered? I’m not bovvered I couldn’t give a shit I’m really not bovvered.’
I’m secretly praying that there’s a sniper on the roof if Charley is evicted this evening.