Davina McCall. She’s quirky! She’s good fun! She’s a great TV presenter! Here, listen. Can you hear that? It’s the sound of people slapping their TVs with pig heads. Why? They’re switching Davina off in droves.
Why? Presumably because she’s turning into a raven. Hooked nose, dressed in black, cackling, gouging eye balls out… that sort of thing.
Anyway, Davina McCall has achieved a staggering feat, by losing a quarter of her viewers in the second week of her twitter box show, called Davina (clever and original, huh?).
Shite-entertainment is something that the Beeb is looking to show
more of, and in the form of Davina McCall (DVDs) gushing over Pierce Brosnan, Martin
‘Tiny Eyes’ Shaw and Naomi Award-winners Westlife during her Davina chat-show, Auntie was looking
to have some wholesome family fun. However, Davina was pummelled by
C4’s house programme Relocation, Relocation, Relocation, Relocation,
Relocation. Essentially, a talk show was usurped by two middle-class idiots
poking around a guffawing twittish couples new abode. Possibly made out
of hemp and orphan skin.
The complete wrist-slitting misery doesn’t end there for the former
beau of Eric Clapton. Davina comes hot on the heels of the failure of He’s Having A Baby. A bizarre idea for a show, where Davina followed some blokes
around who were about to become parents for the first time.
Davina: "So Frank, how does it feel? You’re about to become a Dad!"
Frank: "Well, I’m pretty stressed actually. That camera in my face doesn’t help…"
Davina: "Could you go through your emotions right now, for the viewers at home?"
Frank: "Listen, my poor wife keeps tripping over these wires, and all these bright lights are making us upset."
Davina: "Would you mind crying for the viewers at home?"
Frank: "Fuck off and leave us alone"
Guess what? It did piss-all in the ratings, and was promptly dropped. Not to tempt fate, but the way that Davina‘s going…
This is obviously another case of these Hooray Henry TV execs
thinking that Davina McCall is loved by all, and the British public couldn’t possibly have
too much of her on their TV sets. How wrong were they? The cow-headed public began
tiring of her giddy chops as Big Brother was coming to its dubious
climax, and then, AARGH! Is there no escape from this crow faced
woman?! Call it the Linda Barker syndrome, where someone is on your
screen so much that it actually burns their image directly on to your
An idea might be to have some kind of electronic shock system that
sends 10,000 volts up an TV exec’s rectum as soon as they think the
words ‘Davina McCall’, ‘Linda Barker’, ‘Ant and Dec’ or ‘Jimmy Carr’.
That way, we can see some progs that are presented by someone who has
skills based on presenting, as opposed to merely offering their arse to
any passing sailor.
Still. Not half as dreadful as Kerry Katona.
[story by Mof Gimmers]