Before hecklerspray spills the horrible beans on Fred Durst’s new TV ‘project’ My Life, With Fred Durst, we have just one quick question. Cast your mind back to late last year. Was anyone else out there revelling in the undiluted car-crash entertainment of Channel Four’s What Sadie Did Next?

Each week, instead of doing the more direct thing and screaming straight to camera "you see, Jude? I don’t care if you left me! I DON’T CARE!" and then breaking down in tears, ex-Mrs Law Sadie Frost would strive to show how little her divorce had affected her by whirling around Camden and meeting her cool friends, all the while soundtracked by some more-haircut-than-man musical ensemble (you know … someone like Jet. Or even worse … The Others).

What this show did was reinforce a well-established fact: that emotionally distubed people are actually quite funny to watch.

Poor old Sadie simply didn’t realised how hilarious she was, carting around her gormless toyboy in some desperate attempt to convince everyone she was still nestling on the safe side of thirty. She was completely oblivious as to what an absolute arse she was making of herself.

Which is why hecklerspray is about to make a bold prediction: that My Life With Fred will surpass even Sadie’s smugfest in terms of five-star comedy goldmining.

Some details? Well, since you asked so nicely … Durst’s upcoming excellent adventure is to take the form of ‘a weekly one-hour series mixing celeb interviews with slice-of-life features on the singer’.

Slice-of-life. Just imagine.

A brief snippet on Fred’s morning hat-choosing routine – "I usually take about two to three minutes to choose one, then another five or six standing in the front of the mirror and wishing I wasn’t bald" – would segue directly into a scorching interview with one of Durst’s influential heroes: some bloke from KISS, maybe, or perhaps that gimp with dreadlocks who used to be in Korn.

"I’m a street kid," Durst could inform us in another segment (grainily-filmed, this one, and in black and white to give it that ‘edge’). "I had a tough childhood, man. One year we could only afford to go on holiday once, to the worst five-star hotel in Aspen. That’s the kind of shit I sing about. The kind of shit I feel."

The very idea of watching Durst – a man more middle-class than the entire Waitrose customer base rolled into one – strut around spouting such rubbish may well prove to be the television event of the year. It’s a win-win situation: if the show is a success, Fred’s ego grows and his antics get more and more misguided and stupid. Sort of like David Brent. Except real. And fatter. And worse at dancing.

And if the show fails? We still all get to laugh at him!

Bring it on …

MTV Has More On Fred

[story by C J Davies]