Winona Ryder once said: “Dear diary, my teen angst bullshit now has a body count,” clearly she was watching Skins where, in the opening three episodes of the season, two people have been brutally butchered from the cast list. We haven’t seen one funeral.

In fact the closest we come to Richard Curtis territory is a seaside elegy and mere reference to a wedding. Obviously this is too inherently British for the residents of Bristol who are more content to wallow.

It’s all getting totes emosh up in here which is no doubt why the writers this week introduced us all to a new plucky character to reconfigure the group dynamic. He’s gay too, so that not-graphic-enough-sex-scene ticks another demographic box for the youth enveloping programme.

New Gay and dice man about town Alex got the spotlight this evening along with fag-hag Liv who’s back on the booze and off the rails, on fine form as all of her associates decide that communication is overrated. Instead, they opt for a series of scowls, smiles, and generally fraught looks.

Alex, despite the weird face and normal name, was actually a rather good character to introduce at such a late stage. They brought him in shrouded in a smug cloud of smuggish mystery, like an amateur Derren Brown looking for work in a bowling alley, but he turned out to be a well-rounded young man who actually introduced the concept of ‘see you at college’ to the group.

Obviously nobody saw anyone at college because this programme is teaching us all that you don’t need to learn things – you just need to know how to cheat at poker. We can recommend the DVD special features on the film 21 if you’re looking for a quick guide to card counting. Or just watch The Real Hustle if you can bear it.

Anyway, it was a strangely melancholy episode for Skins. With half of the cast dead or mysteriously absent, it only left a few faces to glumly teach us the art of the awkward silence and boy did they stay stony faced in solidarity. You know when your friend dies and you just knock back a few shots and don’t move on? That is exactly what happened for an hour last night on E4 – at least we had it in HD is all we’re saying. Of course it wouldn’t be Skins if there wasn’t time for a few parties, a quick flash of the tits and some reciting of Nietzsche.

Dead Grace would have loved the send-off, but she might have wondered where her boyfriend was. Rich, hi if you’re reading this –  please do come back and tell us you’re not in a mental institution for hallucinating all those moments with the one you loved after she had been dead at least 24 hours, cheers.

Frankly nothing really happened this week and it is easily the best episode of the series so far, which is a bit backwards. This is possibly because this mundanity is what being a teenager is actually like. It’s not smuggling drugs in the desert and the like. It’s sitting around, not knowing what to say.

It won’t last though. TV won’t allow a character to languish. It’ll be bags of ket in no time, with yawning predictability.

You’ve had a very hard week haven’t you? That Diane in accounting asked you to do that did she? She takes you for granted so much you know. We at hecklerspray love you very much. We would never take you for granted.

What you want to do is, pour yourself a massive gin (it’s the Queen’s favourite don’t you know) and get so blitzed that you don’t know where you are until the hangover kicks in at around Monday dinner time, just in time for a Boots meal deal. That’d be a great way to spend a weekend wouldn’t it? Absolutely off your face. Imagine not knowing how you got scratches and bruises. Intense.

If that isn’t for you though, maybe you’re a bit skint, or maybe ecstasy is your one true passion? Then we have the second best thing to do this weekend, and that’s watch all these brilliant TV shows and talk to us about them. A human conversation with someone. How avant garde.

FRIDAY

The Making Of Elton John: Madman Across The Water, BBC Four, 10:00pm

When Elton John isn’t dissing Madonna, or starring in Pepsi adverts for the Super Bowl, he claims he’s got a music career. Although we haven’t seen much of that since he duped Justin Timberlake to play him in the video for ‘This Train Don’t Stop There Anymore,’ it’s impossible to claim that he hasn’t had a major part of our musical heritage. From the bizarre jumpsuits and glasses, to the less bizarre outfits but more elaborate career choices, the man from Middlesex, has lived a varied and, not all together uninteresting life.

This documentary looks at the early Elton’s childhood, his apprenticeship at DJM Records and his eventual raise to supermegastardom. Bernie Taupin (Elton’s bezzie) and Leon Russell, his American BFF, blow smoke up his ass for our pleasure.

Here is Elton singing one of the greatest songs ever recorded ever with some Muppets

Toughest Place To Be A Bin Man, BBC2, 9:00pm

We all complain about our jobs at some point; whether it be delivering stinky babies from stinky lady holes, or being a PA to a demanding, misogynistic numpty, but have you thought about what it’s like emptying your bins for a living? It’ll be grim. Imagine the stuff that he’s seen. Never mind paparazzi going through your rubbish, its the bin men that you should be wary of.

Well this new BBC series, that pits our bin men against extreme bin men (that we hope will be flipping off wheelie bins and various other parkour stunts) takes us to one of the fastest growing cities in the World. Not the cultural bacteria between Sarah Ferguson’s toes when they gain sentience, but Jakarta, in Indonesia. With a population that easy passes 30 million, imagine the huge undertaking cleaning up their Dominos boxes and used tissues.

Wilbur Ramirez, our contestant in the Rubbish Olympics, travels to the land that squalor and poverty forgot to see how Imam, one of thousands of semi-destitute bin men who keep the streets of Jakarta that little bit less disgusting.

Don’t watch with your tea.

SATURDAY

Harry Hill’s TV Burp, ITV1, Whenever it’s on

We could blather on about how this series is the final series of one of the greatest primetime comedies for decades, or how Saturday night will probably never be the same once Dom Joly takes over and makes what is essentially Beadle’s About, or even how we will never marry make a honest woman of the Knitted Character, but instead of wasting your time, we’ll just leave you with this.

Look at Will. I. Am’s stupid glasses. This isn’t Tron sillyhead.

Take Me Out, ITV1, 7:45pm

Let the girl with the daddy issues see the abusive womaniser! This week sees three more struggling actors put aside any self worth and throw themselves at the mercy of 30 single women.

Trying to sum up with Take Me Out is so jaw achingly bad its like trying to keep up with a perpetual motion machine. Just as you react to one ball-bustingly bad bit the next one is veering towards you like Halle Berry speeding away from a traffic accident. It’s impossible to fully comprehend how disgusting Take Me Out will make you feel, but, if on the off chance you haven’t had enough and want to hate yourself a little bit more, then Mark Wright and some dafty present the deformed conjoined twin show. Do not say we didn’t warn you. If we could put a TV show in biohazard containment, it would be this.

SUNDAY

True Blood, FX, 10:00pm

The new series of True Blood is finally upon us, forcing it’s way on top of us like we’d imagine Dracula would do after watching Michael Roux Jr. cooking a steak barely rare (his accent is so sexy). Picking up a year after the end of Series Three concluded, and examining how Russell Edgington’s rampage has affected the already tense relationship between the mortals and vampires in Bon Temps.

Truth be told, we’re not sure that anyone watches True Blood for the story, and instead they use the 70 minutes to perv over Alexander Skarsgard, Sam Trammell and Ryan Kwanten. Which is bound to be plentiful, so get practicing those finger kegel exercises ladies, you’ve only got until Sunday.

Queens of British Pop, BBC2, 7:00pm

Who here likes pop music? Pop music could be one of the most important mediums in a modern culture, after all, imagine how boring Twitter would be if we didn’t have Jessie J or Lana Del Ray to vent our anonymous spleens about? Heck, the hecklerspray bedsit would be a more dilapidated hovel than it already is. And we already cook our beans over the exposed innards of our stolen TV.

Well gay men, feminists and musos rejoice! There’s a new show focusing, not on the sometimes antiquated and definitely over-worked subject of the influence men have had on pop music (even last week there was a whole night dedicated to Paul McCartney, with not a peep about Mari Wilson), but on women, and what women have done to the modern face of music. Exciting news, right?

The first show focuses solely on the 60s and 70s, with the archetypal female singers that every act over the past two decades has tried to emulate. Dusty Springfield, Sandie Shaw (see last week’s WATCH THIS! for our sole piece of Sandie Shaw trivia), Suzi Quatro and Kate Bush take centre stage with human leatherette three piece, Tom Jones, the only man to make drain pipes sexy, Jarvis Cocker and Henry “Eyyyyy!” Winkler jabber like drunken monkeys about what filth Marianne Faithfull got up to.

Join us here again next week, as we’ll still be probably singing ‘Wuthering Heights’ and backcombing what hair we have left, and will need someone to put us to bed and pop a bucket next to us. Just in case.

TSCHUS!

It’s a brand new week, scum buckets, and to start the downward decline is a brand spanking new episode of Skins and boy oh boy is it miserable this time around! Are you lucky?

First, let’s get real for a moment folks. This is the second episode, so they have to bring out the big guns now that everyone’s back in boring old Bristol and not some country that bristles with sexual heat, so of course, the writers needed to make an episode that tackles the burning issues—as long as something is hotter than fire we’re all happy right?

Of course there were parties and of course there was sex there was even some minimal drug use, but who isn’t rocking a casual line of coke these days. Where was the hard liquor though? We all remember the days when a bottle of vodka lasted for one quick swig, but now it seems everything’s a little too melancholy for anything stronger than a can of lager. It’s so down in the dumps this week that Phil Collins made the soundtrack when not even rain was in the air. These writers need to get their shit together and go on a rollercoaster or something.

This week it was Rich’s turn for the spotlight as he went bat-shit mental dreaming about his dead girlfriend—if you haven’t watched it yet then that right there is what we in the biz like to call a spoiler. Yeah Grace is dead now, they went to Switzerland and everything because it’s okay to euthanise (MURDER) people there. We told you there were issues. Though we’re not really sure how it tackles them in any way whatsoever, it sort of just waved at it from a passing car and said; “hey this is still a thing right? Guys?” it is indeed still a thing. Can you imagine a world where Skins solves the whole euthanasia argument because that makes us want to lethal inject our perfectly healthy bodies to death.

More in-keeping with you heathens and what proved so popular over the past five years, the show throws a party and really cleverly, they invite all their Facebook ‘friends’ to come and have an averagely good time while enjoying some mindless anarchy because, “that’s what the kids are into now right?”

Let’s all say this together…R I O T S.

See we told you there were issues, plural. Nobody can deny that’s an issue, that’s the sort of issue Skins can realistically grapple with and grapple it does. Except these upper class pritt sticks decide it’s all just a bit of harmless fun and wear their headache inducing clothes to a massive mansion to indulge in the meagre activities of the plebians. They’re all scum buckets who can’t even cry on cue so they just eat biscuits instead. If anybody offers you a biscuit when you’re sad that your friend is in a coma, you have our authority to crumble that bourbon up and put it in their hair. They probably love their precious hair. Dicks.

Then set fire to their faces and send them to Switzerland.

So it’s all a little sad this week, you might have even cried if you’re a pansy, but what we all really learnt is that you should never treat your phone like Rich does because it totally ruins the illusion of speaking to your dead girlfriend. Maybe the real issue the writers were tackling this week was insanity; there are just too many bloody layers for us all to wrap our heads around. These people are geniuses in the guise of tossers that’s what we think and you should too if you know what’s good for you.

Any child of the nineties will remember not wanting to go to school. Not because the education system was as messed up as Chloe Sims’ face, or because of the taunts of  the three stripe-clad knuckle-draggers who marked themselves as the school’s social elite.

It was because they wanted nothing more than to watch The Big Breakfast.

The alternative breakfast show has been hosted by pretty much everyone on television, but really came into its own with Johnny Vaughan and Denise Van Outen at the helm. It was brash, bright and loud: just what a child wants instead of stupid Maths and History. Tell the truth, where has Maths or History ever got you that knowing how to sing the ‘Vital Statistics’ song hasn’t? Nowhere, that’s where.

Well Children of the 90s rejoice and unite, because rumours flying around the internet and now your brain, is that the Big Breakfast is coming back to our screens to coincide with the Olympics this year. Probably to cheer everyone up before having to endure packed Tubes and buses for two whole, solid weeks. And that’s just the ceremony itself!

Although nothing is set in stone, and the whole project looks unlikely given that Chris Evans and Johnny Vaughan have their own careers on radio and the like, but isn’t the thought of it just absolutely ball tingling ?

The site of the Big Breakfast House was compulsory purchased to go with the 2012 Summer Olympics plan put forward by the government, so it’s looking likely that the site will be used for something to do with the Olympics, and it may just be a case of wishful thinking. For all we know, it could be the place where all the chemical toilets are emptied.

However, any reason to have Liza Tarbuck back on our screens is fine with us, so come on Hecklersprayers! Let’s start some sort of grass roots campaign to get the Big Breakfast back on our TV. It’s when Johnny Vaughan was super-hot.

That might just be us.

Ka-loo ka-lay everyone! It’s almost the end of the week, and just like Lenny Henry tells us on those awful hotel adverts, it’s almost time for the weekend. And what’s a weekend all about? Going out, getting trashed and generally being like those pesky kids from Skins, sitting around in your pants as much as you can in 48 hours.

It’s what sets us aside from the animals y’know. They can’t figure out the little hole bit for willies.

It’d be remiss, and frankly irresponsible of us, as your favourite website of all time ever in the history of Google, to not keep you occupied between your next bottle of something fizzy or yeasty. It’d be like the 1994 film, Baby’s Day Out. You clearly can’t be left to your own devices can you? Sometimes, just sometimes, you actually make us sorry to know you.

So, like sheep to a machine that would slice their throat and ceremoniously bleed them to death, ready to be skinned, chopped and packaged in cellophane for your delectation, this is what you should be watching over the upcoming weekend. Make sure you do watch it mind, there’ll be a quiz afterwards and we wouldn’t want you to look like a dick.

Friday

Martina Cole’s Lady Killers, ITV3, 9:00pm

Serial killers are big business. Knock up a book with a feisty female detective and a particularly gruesome killer and you could be on the Richard and Judy Summer Booklist; a heady accolade indeed. Reading about the reasons behind notorious killings can be entertaining for two reasons: to better understand the human condition and what drives it to such depraved extremes, and to get tips to pull off the perfect crime spree.

So to help us all in our rampages crime writer Martina Cole has created this series about six of the most notorious female killers in history. Tonight is the turn of Myra Hindley. Which is slightly by-the-by to be honest, because the star of the show is Cole herself, who is the exact opposite of what you’d expect a crime writer to be. She’s essentially a female Phil Mitchell. Gruffer than chewing a plate full of pebbles and more mannish than Fatima Whitbread, this woman is something great. Believe.

How The Brits Rocked America: Go West, BBC4, 9:00pm

How great is music from the 60s please?

We could’ve just left our look at BBC4’s Friday night of documentaries at that, because you’re probably already sold and setting your Sky+, but that would be bad journalism and that’s something we strive not to do at HS. Sometimes it just gets away from us, mainly due to Chris Brown saying and doing such stupid things.

The first episode is a new series looking at how British brands broke the illustrious US market in the 60s. So there’ll be lots of footage of The Beatles. Followed up by the also-rans that are The Hollies, Herman’s Hermits and The Animals. With contributions by Sir Paul McCartney, Peter Noone, Donovan and Micky Dolenz, this will be a lovely reminiscent look at an era that changed music forever. Swinging.

Saturday

TOTP2: The 60s, BBC2, 23:35pm

Not only content with watching almost every minute of The Beatles’ career last night, you can also see what else was going on during the 60s in this brain friendly summing up of the main songs to come from the 1960s. So we’re looking at Beat music, the opening shots of the British Invasion, some of the greatest blues music of all time, and psychedelia. We dare you to watch this and not feel a) completely at ease with yourself afterwards, and b) want to cave something sharp into Ed Sheeran’s face for ruining music for everyone.

Look forward to seeing Cilla Black, Dusty Springfield, Tom Jones, Sandie Shaw* (with no shoes probably) and Fleetwood Mac, and literally slatherings of Eurovision.

Airline: The Story Of Pan Am, BBC2, 10:00pm

Pan Am. A name synonymous with glamour and a woman knowing her place, that being at a man’s beckon call. It means a lot of things, to a lot of people. Clever people who know things like history and economy. And luckily for you dense collections of cells, they’ve made a lovely documentary for you to stick your telly balls at. Generous, generous people, them at the BBC. Find out how Pan Am kick started a new age of travel and managed to shrink the World, and made jaunty hats the absolute bee’s knees. Also, Honor Blackman narrates it. She was in The Upper Hand, so that’s got to count for something. It had a McGann in it.

Sunday

The Only Way Is Essex, ITV2, 10:00pm

The hecklerspray bedsit is literally a-buzz this weekend. But aside from the boiler that we can’t afford to get fixed, it’s because we’re all excited about the return of the The Only Way Is Essex in our lives. We love it. The way that they’re all vacuous, spunk trumpets keeps us so entertained week after week.

It’s all go down Essex way with Mark Wright, Harry Derbridge, Kirk Norcross, Maria Fowler and those arseholes Greek twins hanging up their Tanfastic clubcards and handing the reins of crazy orange madness to a massive twelve new cast members. Not much is known about the new additions, because they’ve only recently being let out of their test tubes for filming, but one is bezzie with Rochelle Wiseman, who professionally blows the tall one from JLS, and the other is best friend of Joey Essex. A man so unusually retarded that even dogs can pick things up faster than him. He’s got the intelligence of an orange. Bunch of pricks; entertaining, self hating pricks.

The TV Book Club, More4, 7:10pm

Panel shows are dreadful aren’t they? The way that they are almost exclusively populated by male comedians thinking that they are the funniest people on the planet even though it’s only differing versions of Hugh Dennis and Russell Howard. And the way that they are edited to within an inch of their existence by overzealous producers is sickening. It makes us physically sick. We have to have the sick bucket next to us whenever we attempt to watch Mock The Week.

The TV Book Club is different to the tired format which the BBC wank themselves rare over, and there’s a new series starting on More4, with new Caroline Quentin and Meera Syal joining regular hosts Dave Spikey (urgh) and Laila Rouass (indifferent) to talk about S.J. Watson’s ‘Before I Go To Sleep.’ And without a boss eyed splat of jizz in sight.

* HS FACT: Despite already being called the fantastically geographical Sandy Shore, she wanted to take it to the next level and snared fashion designer and Clothes Show megastar Jeff Banks, and became…DUN DUN DERR…Sandie Banks. FAS-CI-NA-TING.

It’s soap spoiling time again you lucky people!  Once again we’ve been held at gunpoint and forced to write stuff about something we’d only care less about if we were dead. Want to know what exciting things happen in Hollyoaks this week?  Tough. We didn’t include them.

As usual we’re off to Eastenders first and before we give you this weeks predictable spoilers, we’d like to jump up and down topless in appreciation of Kim, who’s near death rubbish pile romance scene with Ray was our highlight of last week.

This week Ben’s hilarious plan to get his dad arrested has finally worked. Yes Phil Mitchell has been charged with the murder of Stella in a plot so drawn-out we had to look on YouTube to remember what actually happened. We’re still not sure.  However, the smug grin is soon wiped off his face when Shirley throws him out and he’s forced to go and live with Ian Beale and as you all know, when you move in with Ian you have to marry him – it’s Eastenders law.

Anyway, it seems that once upon a time, Bianca managed to sleep with someone who wasn’t completely unattractive! New face Ray is determined to be a dad to Morgan and offers to cook dinner for the Butchers. He then reveals he has a daughter called Sasha and Bianca isn’t happy. OH THERE’S A SHOCKER.  Still, our protests last week seem to have worked and Ricky has pissed off, so hopefully Bianca will be next.

Elsewhere, Tanya and Jane fall out over her plans to go to Wales, Lucy confronts Mandy over her secret phone calls and Derek gives Ben a jumper. This isn’t a euphemism.

Next we go to Coronation Street because you lot moan when we don’t write about it. Tracy and Steve get married this week and as Tracy is a scheming, lying villain, you know this won’t end well or have any comedy value whatsoever. Yes Becky gatecrashes the church to tell Steve that Tracy is all of those things we’ve just mentioned and manages to ruin the whole bloody charade.  Don’t fret though, BECKY IS LEAVING! We’ve already put bunting up in the hecklerspray bedsit as between her and Ricky Butcher being removed from our televisons, we haven’t been this happy in a long time. Pete and Carla share some really unconvincing kisses and plan a secret hotel rendezvous so they can engage in some really mediocre sex acts. What they don’t know is that Frank has a private investigator following them, called Trish.  Trish?

Trish was always one step ahead.

Finally, despite the fact we haven’t watched Neighbours in 25 years, we’ll still tell you stuff as you obviously haven’t moved on.  First of all, Guy Pearce is a brilliant actor. He’s done really well for himself hasn’t he? Sadly he’s not in Neighbours anymore, but do you know who still is? Stefan Dennis, aka Paul Robinson.  This week he puts together his case to fight for Kate’s career. We don’t know who Kate is but you probably do so that’s all that matters. Emilia teaches Tash some Wiccan method called ‘grounding’ which hopefully involves her being buried alive somewhere and someone called Chris is gay.

It’s fair to say we’ve all learned something important this week.

Anyway, let us end this excuse for a feature with a video of a soap star doing something they should be particularly ashamed of.

Expect more of these.

Life is hard for many people for much of the time. But we all deal with it in different ways. Some people take solace in religion; placing their happiness in never seeing a ghost. They’d rather have a piece of toast and watch the evening news. Those people are idiots and mediocre ’90s pop stars.

Some people turn to alcohol or narcotics, like many a disgraced celebrity or role model. Would it surprise you to hear that a member of the hecklerspray bedsit likes to drink a bath of gin before singing the chorus from ‘I Know Him So Well’ from the musical Chess? Would it surprise you that it’s Matthew Laidlow?

Whereas some people get happy by watching television and seeing that no matter how hard life can be; unemployment is at record high, there’s cruise liners capsizing and you’ll never be good enough for your partner, but no matter how hard life can be, you’ll still be better than the people you’ll see on TV. Fat Pat carking it? You’re better than her. Not sure which of 12 potential men is the father of your child? You’re better than her. Women chef overcooked her souffles and is now having a massive breakdown? You’re better than her as well.

Allow us to show you the best things that is going on in the World of TV. Or not. Maybe you’d like to go back to having an awful life.

Perhaps you like feeling sorry for yourself.

Well we’ll not be having that, so be on your way. Read on if you want to be a happy and healthy individual, or entertained.

Friday

Paul Simon: Live At Webster Hall, New York, Friday, BBC Four, 9:00pm

Everyone has a soft spot for Simon & Garfunkel. Where would we be without ‘Bright Eyes’ instilling a fear of angry looking rabbits. Or ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ reminding us how completely awful Stephen Gateley’s solo career was. And ‘Homeward Bound’ being the theme tune to anyone’s long train journey home. Well the terrorists would’ve won wouldn’t they? And we don’t want that now do we. Simon and Garfunkel shaped the way that normal people view music, we wouldn’t have most of the folk output if they hadn’t been maudlin folk heroes.

This show, admittedly has 100% less Garfunkel than what we would like, but still contains 100,000% (that’s Jeremy Kyle maths there kids) of Paul Simon. Recorded in June 2011, just seven whole months ago, following his ‘So Beautiful or So What’. Expect lots of songs that you’ve not heard before, but at the same time some of the biggest hits that Simon has pumped into the public consciousness, like a giant vacuum of fart. Will Ladysmith Black Mambazo appear? Like we’d spoil that for you. What do you think we are? Monstrous layabouts with nothing else to do but tell you the current whereabouts of Ladysmith Black Mambazo?

If you like that sort of thing, BBC Four has a whole night dedicated to the giants of folk as well.

Al Murray: Giving It Both Barrels, Friday, Dave, 9:00pm

Enjoy having your intelligence insulted by an overweight man who takes on the persona so unpleasant that even Jeremy Clarkson would be calling the Daily Mail in complaint, after asking everyone “What do you call and Indian with bacon on his head?” Do you like people who make jokes about being the slightest bit effeminate? Or liking drinks that aren’t created from some horrible yeasty nonsense? No, us either.

But if you do want to sit, staring incredulously at the screen for an hour and a half and think “Christ on a trike, isn’t this dated” then this is definitely for you. Listen to Al Murray as he dusts off his tired persona of the Pub Landlord and shouts at people in the audience, while drinking something called stout and talking about how Britain is different from what it might have been a few decades ago. Watch as the realisation that he’s never going to find a career peak as high as this never dawns over his face. Smell the awful beer farts and Lynx Africa from the losers in the audience.

Saturday

The Magicians, Saturday, BBC One, 6:35pm

We at the Hecklerspray bedsit, love magic. We spend literally hours trying to make coins disappear behind each other’s ears. It’s got to the stage where otorhinolaryngologists at our local A&E know us each by name. We love it so much that at a Christmas party, a magician stole our watch from right under our nose and we let him keep it as a thank you. The trick was that the watch was stolen all along. Take that Magic Mick!

So as you can imagine, we have been thrilled with all these magic based entertainment shows that everyone has been ramming down our throats. But The Magicians is slightly different because it isn’t just a vanilla trot-out-make-a-girl-disappear-who-then-turns-up-dead-in-a-canal-later-that-night. This one has professional magicians (apparently there’s more than Paul Daniels and Dynamo) taking celebrities under their wings and teaching them to do tricks of their own. Sounds like something The Magic Circle would get their removable knickers in a twist, but whatevs. This week there’s one half of Mel & Sue, Mel, David Haye and Kimberley Wyatt, who we’re reliably told used to be in the Pussycat Dolls, but obviously she’s not Nicole Sherzinger so no one cares.

The Jonathan Ross Show, Saturday, ITV 1, 9:15pm

Like him or not, Jonathan Ross is still going strong after his misdemeanors with Russell Brand and David Cameron, and has had success with his ITV chatshow. Tonight’s show has Famous Harry Potter Penis, Daniel Radcliffe spouting various guff about the theatre and how it’s a living, breathing organism as well as ‘The Woman In Black’ which is the new film he’s peddling; Noel Fielding talks about his new show ‘Luxury Comedy’ and David Attenborough blows a kidney telling everyone that the scenes from Frozen Planet which everyone got into a right tizz about might have been faked after all, but that’s alright because it’s the better alternative than being ripped open by angry polar bears.

Sunday

Hugh’s Three Hungry Boys, Sunday, Channel Four, 7:00pm

What’s worse than a self-opinionated nancy chef advocating oven-dried tomatoes and pallet squashed chicken? Three of that chef’s proteges. Which is precisely what this is. Following the progress of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s three friends, Thom, Tim and Trevor Whittington Smythe Rara Oopsilon the Third, Fourth and Fifth, as they travel around South West England, foraging off the ground that they walk on, and probably own. Unashamedly scripted, and not even that convincing, the rise of faux-danger is making cooking programmes into one homogenous blur, presented by the same person but with different haircuts. “Will they get the sourbread to the Orthodox rabbi by sundown?” “How is she going to manage to make twelve scones in three hours, while balancing on a thin strip of rope and reciting Pi?” One time Mary Berry defeated a whole ship of ravaging pirates, and still managed to deliver a chocolate truffle torte to the head of Westminster’s WI.

Ben Elton: Laughing At The 80s, Sunday, Channel Four, 11:40pm

Have you seen the awful one off comedy shows on BBC One that are attempting to remind people that Lenny Henry, Jasper Carrott and Griff Rhys exist still? They’re very bad indeed. But those cheap one off specials do remind us of one thing; comedy in the 80s was sometimes really fantastic. Which is just what this documentary looks at. Which you can probably tell. You’re not stupid are you?

Presented by Ben Elton, who obviously co-wrote The Young Ones and Blackadder, who meets some of the biggest names in alternative comedy, so expect to hear funny things from Harry Enfield, Jimmy Tarbuck, Rik Mayall, Victoria Wood, French and Saunders and maybe some seagull noises from Lenny Henry. Has anyone figured out what that’s about? No wonder Dawn French wants nothing to do with him.

If you’re under the age of 22 then you will be familiar with the Daily Mail’s nemesis; common sense. Whoops! That should read Skins. If you’re living like the characters in the show, then you’re probably dead and we offer our sincerest sympathies; we died around the same time as Tony who was paralysed by youthful happiness and, you know, a bus.

If you’re lucky enough to be a child now, then we can blame you for the continued success of what is shaping up to be a life affirming/sucking programme.

Either way you will all be suitably disappointed to find out that a new series is going to be cuming (see what we did there?) to E4 on Monday. There are mere days to prepare yourself. Here in the ‘spray bedsit we like to think of Skins as a disease and as you know, with diseases, you must inoculate yourself with small doses to become immune. Based on that logic and no small amount of self-loathing we subjected, or watched, the two ‘webisodes’ on that thing some of you are calling The Internet. It’s a sharp learning curve for us all.

We’re still on the third cast of complete and utter hopeless specimens and this time they will be entering their second year of a 6^th form run by snivelling political comedy insurance vendor Chris Addison, but not before a little and undoubtedly highly believable dramatic holiday to somewhere sunny. There will be beer  five litres of vodka, there will be drugs, there will be sex, and there will be nothing resembling an average teenage experience. Leading up to this spectacle is where the web episodes come in and steal 20 minutes of your life which could have been used better by staring at a brown wall and contemplating the relevance of the colour brown.

For the sake of everyone, we’re merging these two together in no particular order, all you need to know is that it starts with wanking and ends with two boys, one of whom has gained A LOT of weight, in a bathroom debating who gets to shove the drugs up their arse.

You did NEED to know that didn’t you?

In between a ginger boy fails to have sex with one of those easy goth girls and reaffirms two stereotypes that are going to cause millions of children to be bullied by the bastardised youths watching this drivel and a man who we reckon is probably a heavyweight in the realm of British acting, smokes a lot of weed and talks about his ‘iron lungs’ before being mugged and only slightly sexually assaulted. IF IT WASN’T FOR THOSE PESKY KIDS, EH?

Christ it’s an awful show these days, remember when Nicholas Holt was in it? Wasn’t that vaguely all right? Not even the world’s worst named child Dakota Blue Richards can make it better; though she often tries with her stony glances and androgyny.

Anyway if you can’t be dicked or have some sort of sense about you then you probably shouldn’t watch this. Always the antagonists we will be shunning the popular consensus and tuning in every single week to numb the mind before providing you lucky kiddies with our pearls of wisdom on whatever grandiose shit went down the following day.

So try not to kill yourself and come back here or else we’ll throw a massive, obviously, Skins Party—a popular term meaning house full of dicks—and you won’t be invited and you’ll feel really bad when you see all the photos on Facebook.

It’s not every day that someone will dedicate literally minutes of their time watching upcoming things on TV to tell you whether what they’ve watched is good, not so good, or the equivalent of getting your toes stapled and then having aforementioned staples removed by the blind nuns that secretly made Kate Middleton’s wedding dress while they sloppily down pints of homemade lemonade.

No-one takes the time to sit down and tell us what’s actually good, and more appropriately what has the most emotional resonance and character development in it; instead it’s just flash in the pan reactions to developments in the soaps or whatever drama is getting the Daily Mail’s “We’re Not Racist But…” full brief pantaloons in a twist. Or even what coke snorting gnome, Frankie Cocozza is up to. TV is important business everybody! It teaches children how to read and speak, as well as to fear larger women who have chandelier earrings and make-up like Salvador Dali.

Actually, scratch that. There’s a reason no-one spends the time to dissect episodes of Outnumbered or whatever nauseating  film Channel 4 stick on at daft o’clock. It’s a waste of time. So allow us, dear hecklerspray readers, to guide you through the perilous TV guide and point out what you should, or shouldn’t be watching this weekend.

FRIDAY

Hustle, BBC One, Friday, 13th January, 9pm

The final series of The Hustle is eventually upon us. And it’s inevitably raised some questions. Will the team sail off into the sunset with funds stolen from someone else’s bank account? Will Jamie Murray follow her dad, Billy Murray, into the Injury Lawyers 4 U adverts, or possibly the sequel to Strippers vs Werewolves? Will Matt Di Angelo become anything other than a blight on British drama? Well the answers to all these questions will be revealed eventually as the team take on the big business of dieting pills and even attempt a gold heist. Sounds dreadful doesn’t it?

Candyman: Farewell To The Flesh, Channel 4, Friday 13th January, 12.05am

Okay, strictly speaking, it’s on Saturday… but SHUT UP. Anyway, bad slasher films make or break a Friday night don’t they; and this one is particularly unpleasant. The sequel to 1992’s Candyman, this time the Candyman goes on holiday to New Orleans just in time for the boob baringly brilliant Mardi Gras. Seems like a great addition to the National Lampoon franchise doesn’t it? Well it’s not as grim as that, it would never have been passed through the BBFC with a racist lynch mob with added bees and Chevy Chase’s gurning facade. And there’s even an Agatha Christie style family mystery which helps the film trudge along slightly (and something for the women, am I right men?). But there’s still lots of blood and hot hook-on-man action if that doesn’t take your fancy. It’s not a great film, but we’d like to see you do better. Go on. We’ll wait.

SATURDAY

Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer, Channel 4, Saturday 14th January, 7.45pm

Comic book films are big business, with more and more getting greenlit by greedy movie studios. Some are good; Kick Ass, X-Men: First Class, 12 Angry Men (where one is The Punisher), whereas some are like cancerous limpets on the successful cash cow. This is a particularly big limpet. It continues the story of Marvel’s Fantastic First Family and introduces the galactic hero of sorts The Silver Surfer and the supervillain, Galactus. Except it isn’t Galactus as you would want to see him, with big purple horns and planet sucking hoses. He lacks any sort of menacing presence. Or any physical presence at all in fact. He’s a giant purple cloud that has the same level of danger as a really noxious fart. A fart so heinous that it can strip wallpaper at thirty feet. A fart so disgusting that the time that it takes to dissipate will be given it’s own name; like the Dark Ages, or When Someone Shot Phil Mitchell And It Turned Out To Be Lisa Beale Even Though It Should Have Been Dan.

If you’ve nothing else to do, this could be a good way to kill a few hours, and you’ll learn how not to make a really awful superhero film. It does have Stan Lee so you can be making the most of that before he kicks his slippers off and goes to the great Avengers Tower In The Sky.

Borgen, BBC Four, Saturday 14th January, 9pm

When it comes to Danish drama, The Killing ruled the roost. Everyone wanted to be it. Topman even released a horde of jumpers over Christmas to cure the Sarah Lund shaped gap in the market. Wallander wishes it was The Killing. Well there’s a new kid in town, and that doesn’t mess around with making a jumper more famous than whatever is going on in the show (admit it, you’re thinking it too). This kid is one of those 1 in 10 kids that claims they’ve had a terrible childhood just because they didn’t get an iPhone for Christmas or was touched by their uncle that one which they won’t stop going on about. That kid is Borgen.

Set in and around the Christianborg Palaces, which is the Danish version of House of Lords and Parliament and Downing Street combined in one bomb friendly location, Borgen follows the not so hilarious exploits of Prime Minister Brigitte Nyborg. Think The Thick Of It but without the funny bits with a couple of crimes thrown in as well. Cerebral, subtitled and unashamedly clever, give it a whirl.

SUNDAY

Sherlock, BBC One, Sunday 15th January, 9pm

If you haven’t been watching this series of Sherlock then you should probably go and lock yourself in a room and forgot about continuing with what we call “living” because you’re completely wasting your life. We’ve all heard and read about Sherlock to such a degree that we’re not going to waste your ear time by repeating it; Stephen Moffatt, Benedict Cucumbersnatch, moving text on screen; blah blah blah. This is the last episode in a criminally short series, and it is a somewhat liberal adaptation of The Reichenbach Fall, which was originally called “The Final Problem” but that’s a bit genocidey and not really a perfect theme for Sunday night viewing. Even The Antiques Roadshow turns Nazi gold away.

“The Final Problem” was originally going to be the final Sherlock Holmes story; Conan Doyle wanted to spend some time catching up on Coronation Street and finishing his knitting. But public pressure forced him to take up his pen once more, but no one cares about that now. Could the final Sherlock result in the death of the titular character and his nemesis, the gorgeous Moriarty? Well only time will tell. If it was up to us, we would have Sherlock and Moriarty fall into the waterfall but be saved by a family of flying geese who take them to the Moon where they can start a new life together, away from the stresses and public opinion of gay relationships. Look at Cumberbatch’s face. Doesn’t he deserve some happiness? He looks like some carved his face out of chalk.

Call The Midwife, BBC One, Sunday 15th January, 8pm

If you’ve ever had the misfortune of seeing Cranford, Larkrise To Candleford or whatever Elizabeth Gaskell novel BBC is shilling as lazy Sunday night drama, then you’ll know what to expect here. Melodramatic women, forced nostalgia, and because it’s aimed at women (because it’s all about midwives) it’s going to mean that you’re mam and nan are going to be creaming whatever is left in their knickers over it. Total snoozefest for anyone with a Y chromosome.

Directed by the person to blame for Downtown Abbey, Julian Fellowes, Call The Midwife will be a hit for anyone who knows a woman of a certain age (read: old) who a) remembers life in the 50s, or b) yearns for a simpler existence where the most complicated thing a woman had to worry about was how to discreetly get her feminine hygiene products back into the house without being branded a harlot, strung up from the nearest police box and pelted with loafs of unleavened bread.

And that’s your lot you losers. We’ve got two films, and a shedload of drama for you to get your teeth stuck into, so don’t let us catch you on Twitter saying that there’s nothing on TV over the weekend.

And if nothing here takes your fancy, well I’m sure you can catch a repeat of My Family on Dave Ja Vu.

Hello soap fans!! Missed us? No, we didn’t give you a second thought either but now that we’ve just about recovered from Pat’s quick, yet annoyingly drawn out death, we’re back to spoil everything for you and tell you what’s going to happen this week. But first here’s a little catch up.

Did we mention that Pat was dead? Well she is. Her last moments were spent in bed with a soaking wet Michael French shouting “MUM!” 2cm from her face, weighed down by monstrous earrings, desperately clinging to a script that would never end while the country secretly wished that David Essex would appear from the wardrobe singing ‘Oh What a Circus.’

Sadly, not even fake son number 2 Nick Berry could be bothered to turn in the Vic and play ‘Every Loser Wins’ on the piano so off she popped and now we all have the funeral to look forward to (40 sodding minutes of funeral time on Friday viewers. You have been warned.)

Up to speed then? Good.

This week on Albert Square, David and Carol decide that they still love each other, much to the dismay of her evil brother Derek who is quite frankly the best villain to grace the Square since that dastardly Wilmot Brown fella in 1872.

He tells David that he’s still going to continue being a rotter regardless and David enlists the help of Michael ‘sometimes my smile is quite alarming’ Moon to get rid of Derek. However after a bungled stitch up, David decides to run away and asks Carol to go with him. But will she go? WE DON’T CARE.

Meanwhile Janine saves the day when she agrees to pay for Pat’s funeral, buy Pat’s house so that the most annoying family on television can rent it from her and even says something heartfelt at Pat’s funeral. We don’t like helpful Janine and we hope she gives birth to a demon who will raise Frank Butcher from the dead and slap some sense into her.

Lucy comes back for Pat’s funeral this week with a completely new face and no-one seems to notice.  She then demands to know who Mandy is, decides she doesn’t like her and plots to get rid of her. We doubt it’ll be a LETS SET FIRE TO EVERYONE! storyline like Yusef had but we hope it involves some sort of murderous rage.

Lauren gets dumped by Tyler as he really loves astoundingly thick Whitney. She get pissed and threatens to jump out of her bedroom window but her fringe blocks her view and her parents realise it’s time to take action but probably won’t as good parenting is forbidden on Eastenders.

When Morgan questions his skin colour and asks who his father is,  Bianca tells him it’s Barack Obama and someone on the script-writing team gets fired.  Whitney then plays detective and tracks down Morgan’s father Ray who doesn’t know he has a son and a new, recurring character klaxon sounds somewhere in the distance.

Elsewhere, Bianca tells Ricky it’s over for the millionth time, Tiffany is terrified that Pat is haunting the Butcher house (we hope this is true) and Pat’s coffin gets dragged outside to the tune of ‘Sweet Caroline’ which is just plain weird.

Oh, and the other soaps just don’t matter. Apart from Brendan Brady in Hollyoaks who is the best thing the world has ever seen.

Okay. Hands up. Who’s missed Cheryl Cole? Hello? Did you hear us? Why can we hear tendons snapping? Well – erm – YOU’RE IN LUCK!

For that X Factor Expert and all round amazing woman what is good at chatting to people on strange curved sofas that don’t exist anywhere except post-watershed Channel 4 programmes has ‘reportedly’ (and Jesus Christ, we use that term lightly, this story was pulled from Star Magazine, where half the office are frequented by Nick Hardman’s idea of what women look like, and the rest: Frogs) agreed to be the face of a new late night chat show, like that time they did it with Charlotte Church, as part of the What To Do With Down to Earth Welsh People Scheme of 2006.

Anyway, the consensus seems to be it’s going to be a show kind of on the same lines.

Provisionally titled (Re: grasping wildly in the dark) ‘Late Night With Cheryl’, the show is promised by Mr T.V Insider:

‘They know she’ll be a massive ratings winner and is the perfect fit to pull in amazing guests.’

Well that’s put our mind at rest. FOREVER. And this ‘amazing guests’ thing – Graham Norton’s going to be kicking himself later.  So, yeah. This is happening apparently. Alongside that film career (WHAT? Don’t get upset at us, we didn’t do it!) she’s apparently having this year too, as it is paramount to heave multitudes of success on The Woman With Cheekbones and how brilliant it is that she has cheekbones, and how she should ultimately just have everything she wants time and time over until we can begin to try and fathom a world where a Geordie accent comes out of shiny haired people with teeth.

TEETH.

So there you go. Another one of those Balls of Fury/Rudetube dimly lit viral shows about hashtagging and pictures of celebrities is on it’s merry way to us, probably-not-really, with the crucial ingredient of Cheryl Cole’s wry voiceover FINALLY sought at last. We’re sure it’ll be like the dimly lit viral chatshow about hashtagging and pictures of celebrities that Chris Morris never had.

Still it’s not going to be as bad as when Peaches Geldof did it, because humanity can only achieve so much, or wear so many brogues that we’re all going to stand around and take pictures of later in a satanic circle in Camden Market whilst saying things like, “Hey! Did you hear about that guy who married a pillow? Yeah, Shaznay reblogged it whilst I was touching her thigh last night listening to related artists of The Big Pink.’

Sorry, we were talking about something.  Oh, it was Cheryl Cole wasn’t it? Maybe we should just stop talking.

Someone needs to get Oh My God Trampoline Guy an agent before this all gets out of hand.

It’s spoiler time again people, which will either ruin your week and send you into a murderous rage or you’ll thank us very sweetly like the hideous Munchkins that you are. Either is fine with us.

This week, there’s so much going on in Eastenders that we’ve decided to say “BALLS!” to the other soaps and shower you with events from the very real and not at all fictional Albert Square.

And no, you’re not allowed to complain. YOU ARE FORBIDDEN.

It seems like Amira still hasn’t accepted the fact that Syed likes boys. You know, men… the same sex.  Oh for the love of god, HE LIKES COCK AMIRA, get this into your thick head.  She enlists the help of Yusef, who delighted that his rather dull character hasn’t been killed off yet, and who promises to help her win back Syed if she helps him win back Zainab. Give it a rest.

He almost wets his pants with excitement when Ben tells him that Christian touched him ‘inappropriately’ while they watched a DVD together and decides to tell Zainab that Christian has been molesting Ben for weeks behind Syed’s back. Of course this isn’t remotely true, except for the part where Ben and Christian did watch a DVD together and Ben decided that kissing Christian would be the best idea that anyone has ever had. EVER.

It wasn’t.

We’re also slightly confused as to why Yusef’s idea of wooing Zainab is to tell her tales of molested teenagers in order to win her trust but quite frankly, we don’t care that much either.

Phil finds out about the dreadful rumour and decides to batter Christian with a baseball bat and only then does Ben decided to admit he’s a lying toad but it’s too late; Christian packs his bags, Yusef violently pushes Zainab up against a mirror and there’s even a deceased turkey with a bullet in it which breaks Janine’s tooth. LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE BEN, YOU LITTLE SHIT!

Elsewhere, Ian and Mandy are still trying to convince everyone that the quickest and most unbelievable engagement in the history of Eastenders, is something other than tedious. Mandy is furious when she finds out the real cost of her engagement ring and is so upset by this fact and that she let Ian Beale put his thing near her, she sends Bobby into the street to play and he vanishes. Don’t fret though, he does return, accompanied by the brilliant Jane! Remember Jane? The one who left after she had that non sexual fling with Masood behind Ian’s back and wanted to bring up Lucy’s child and oh, it doesn’t really matter does it?

Masood is happy to see her, but then he isn’t. BUT THEN HE IS and it goes on like this for a while until Jane decides she’ll hang around for a while and laugh at Ian’s mid life crisis and pretend to be from That London.

Finally, everyone is now aware that Pat Butcher is finally hanging up her earrings and leaving Eastenders for good. Those of you who didn’t know are no doubt cheering loudly. It’s fine. We’ll wait.

What you didn’t know is that she doesn’t burn to death in some totally expected house fire, oh no, she gets an even better exit, by upstaging Tanya and finding out she’s also got cancer which will kill her immediately. Well after she’s dragged it out a bit and given everyone some nonsense words of wisdom and  licked that poster of Frank one last time. Then she’s definitely dying and never ever coming back ever again.

So it’s not all bad news then.

Until next week …

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It’s time to visit Soapland again as we know this is the only thing that makes your miserable existence bearable. We even caught Matthew Laidlow trying to bribe fellow writer Joanna Bolouri with cake and even violence in the hope she’d reveal the whereabouts of David Essex since his departure.

He’s still recovering in hospital as she takes Soaps even more seriously that you losers do.

First up it’s Eastenders where it’s Yasmin’s first birthday party and as Christian has never missed a party in his life, he buys her a card and teddy, hoping to get an invite. Realising that Christian is only using her daughter’s party as an excuse to get on the good foot, Amira tells Syed he’s not welcome and Syed secretly puts his plans to backflip naked onto Christian on hold.

Amira’s father Qadim arrives at the party, demanding she leave this soap immediately but as Amira still has weeks left to bore everyone with her baby, she refuses.

Emotionless Yusef  gets the fake DNA test results back and hands them over to Christian who then confronts Amira with the news that Syed isn’t Yasmin’s father. No-one bothers to notice that the DNA came from a Chinese woman Yusef once treated in his surgery for heartburn.

When Masood pops his head round the door and tells everyone that Yusef probably falsified the tests, Yusef stares blankly and tells Zainab that the NHS provided the results and therefore he is really a nice man who’s only marginally interested in destroying everyone who’s ever been born.  Zainab believes him until drag queen granny Rose tells her that the NHS don’t provide DNA tests and Yusef is forced to admit that  he’s a ball bag.

Elsewhere on the Square, Poppy and Jodie have moved in with those Moon brothers and everyone immediately shouts ‘SHAG FEST!!!” Tyler also gets this idea into his head and convinces Anthony that the girls want to have a threesome, despite the fact even Wham loving Heather would be dirtier in the sack than those two combined. Finished picturing that? You’re welcome.

Needless to say he soon finds out that they are less than impressed by the suggestion so they all laugh it off and then the girls decide they both quite fancy Anthony so, IT COULD STILL HAPPEN IF ENOUGH BOOZE IS INVOLVED.  We hope the Eastenders writers are as sexually repressed as we are.

‘Fiwl’ Mitchell returns with amnesia and suggests that Ben dates Lola and Ben stops imagining Christian’s undercarriage for a second and moans that his Dad doesn’t  love him.  He then agrees to babysit Amy while Roxy goes out and gets hammered, before deciding it would be more fun to leave toddler Amy alone in the house while he pretends to be straight with Jay.

Amy’s decision to lie face down in some bath water causes everyone to panic and take her to hospital where Jack finds out that Amy has an unexplained fracture. A  perpetually hungover Roxy arrives at the hospital to be told that either Jack gets custody of Amy or Amy goes into care and Roxy will be taken to court. Oh look. Another storyline about parental struggle with an inevitable custody battle. Great.  Where the hell is that threesome?

Finally, Tanya’s text buddy Siobhan dies and Tanya has a panic attack.

Grim.

Next we  arrive in Coronation Street where Fiz hopes that John’s confession will stop her going back to prison but will it? We don’t know and we couldn’t find anyone else who’s be bothered to find out either.

Carla is still a wreck and after telling the factory girls that they’ll get paid after they finish sewing some knickers, she just snaps and fires them. Then Frank decides to offer them all jobs and an unhinged Carla calls him a rapist and tells the women they can have their jobs back. We’re as confused as they are.

It’s Sophie’s birthday this week but as usual all the attention is focused on Rosie when the Gazette article is published and contains gossip about the family along with some tasteless photos. This makes us happy.

Elsewhere, Michelle’s parents take the news that she’s getting married on the beach badly as no-one wants to fall over and get  sand up their bumhole after 17 Mojitos.

Until next week…

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This week we’re dedicating the entire spoilers section to Eastenders! Why? We have no idea but there’s so much going on we literally wet our pants writing this.

First up on Albert Square, the next story line destined to drag out for at least 17 years continues with Amira using her daughter Yasmin to manipulate ex husband Syed for reasons still unknown to everyone, even the writers.

Ben spots them playing happy families in the park and tells Christian who takes off his white vest and thinks Ben is a specky liar but doesn’t tell him that because he’s too busy frowning and flexing in his direction. A sexually frustrated  Ben then asks hecklerspray writer Joanna Bolouri to help him out by opening a cafe, where Syed and Amira will rendezvous, allowing Christian to catch them at it.  Hoping this will speed up this stupid plot, she readily agrees.

When Roxy finds out about Syed and Amira she marches Christian to Joanna’s cafe and as if by magic he catches Syed and Amira together. Everyone argues, shouts and kick each other under the table, except baby Yasmin who’s the only grown up in this whole sorry mess.

Zainab returns from Pakistan to discover she’s a granny, much to Yusef’s dismay as he’s still hoping to kill her with sleeping pills and pointy faced glaring but now some dastardly child is going to ruin his plans, so he decides to tell Christian that Yasmin may not be Syed’s daughter. Noticing that the baby has not yet launched herself from her buggy and backflipped across Albert Square, Christian thinks this may be true and gives Yusef one of Syed’s hairs to do a DNA test.

Sigh.

Elsewhere, Lauren has started pinning her fringe back which is a huge, HUGE mistake as she now can’t use the ‘my hair was in my eyes’ excuse for sleeping with Tyler but more importantly, we can’t make fun of it. Whitney finds out and goes mental at Tyler, who reminds her that she’s with the world’s worst DJ, Fatboy now and we’re reminded that this is the most pitiful romance in history.

Lola makes a joke about Ben being gay and Ben is so shocked by this completely true allegation, he decides he’ll sleep with her to shut her up.  Afterwards Ben realises that he hates vaginas even more than ever and tells Lola that he’s definitely gay which is just what any girl wants to hear after sex.

The brilliant Janine is a year older than she was last year and decides she’ll have something called a birthday but no-one cares. She stomps around all day,  kicking stray dogs and plotting everyone’s demise but then Michael, knowing that even evil girls like twinkly fairy lights, saves the day by throwing a surprise birthday dinner, complete with lights, champagne and self esteem destroying sex for desert and making that smiley face that terrifies everyone to their very soul.

Norman convinces Pat to sign over her house to him, to raise some cash to help Nick Berry in New Zealand and then moves in with her and her massive earring collection.

This week however, there is a scene that make make viewers feel utterly distressed and we hope that the BBC gives out one of their helpline numbers at the end of the episode. Something so traumatic we feel it’s only fair to put it in capitals to make sure you understand how grim it is.  This week, you will witness PAT BUTCHER AND THAT NORMAN FELLA KISSING WITH THEIR DUSTY OLD MOUTHS!

We’d advise you not to look directly at it. We did and the hecklerspray bedsit resembled the end scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Harrowing.

Until next week losers!

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Despite spending most of the week choosing fancy pants to wear to the Cosmo Blog Awards, fighting over who gets to shave that evening with the communal razor and  getting really, really drunk with happiness, we’ve still had time to hold Soap writers hostage in our bedsit and demand they tell us what’s happening in Soapsville this week or we’d show them Matthew Laidlow’s bed sheets.

They quickly told us everything.

EVERYTHING.

Eastenders first this week where Amira realises that she’ll be able to drag out her storyline for at least a month if she keeps refusing to let Syed have contact with Yasmin, so she holds up the baby like a newborn Simba in front of Syed every so often, manically singing ‘The Cirrccrcle of Liiiiife‘  before putting Yasmin back  in her handbag, next to her perfumed mace she’s prepared for Christian.

Syed, unaware the the Eastenders writers have already written him twice a week contact with his daughter, reasonable child support payments and a short break at Butlins, starts sneaking around to try and get some time with Yasmin, even lying to his very, very buff boyfriend which we find utterly loathsome and ridiculous.

Elsewhere, in a planet called ‘Notverybloodylikelyisit?‘, Ian Beale proposes to stripper Mandy Salter after she wrecks the car he’d rented to try and impress her.  Really? Will she say yes or will she just climb on her pole and spin round at such an alarming rate causing time and space fold in on itself,  taking us back to 1993 when she was loved up with Sean Maguire and taking enough drugs to knock over a horse.

That was at least believable.

It’s good news for Fatboy when he finally gets to sniff Whitney up close as the pair decide they’d make a really brilliant couple. We predict a domestic violence storyline when Whitney remembers that time Fatboy tried to sing in church and attempts to strangle him with her scrunchie.

Finally, Pat gets some bad news from Simon in New Zealand, probably telling her that she’s about to be killed off and grabs her chest in a non sexual way in front of Norman. OH JUST DIE WILL YOU???

Next, it’s time for Coronation Street where Frank leaves Carla no choice but to sack some of the useless and/or overweight members of staff when he takes half her stock and sewing machines.  Yeah, we couldn’t believe it either. Sally is one of the first to go and complains for about 3 seconds before Frank offers her the job of sewing machine supervisor and she shuts up.

She also tells estranged husband Kevin that he’s no longer welcome in the house and the words ‘life imitating art’ are mumbled all over the country by people who consider Coronation Street to be ‘art’ instead of ‘horrific’.

Rosie decides that she’ll split up Sally and Jeff by coming on to him and it works when Sally finds them in a compromising  position, but Sophie grasses her up and her mum is shocked.  Then she remembers she’s the evil leader of sewing machines and doesn’t care anymore.

We’d forgotten about Fiz but apparently she’s still in prison for being ginger and finally, Eileen lies under Paul for several minutes and then tells Paul’s wife Lesley about their uninteresting and unlikely liaison.  However, Lesley seems confused rather than angry and we can totally understand this reaction.

Finally we dig out the baby oil and glance seductively at Hollyoaks, where Riley is marrying his Mercedes, blissfully unaware that his car is cheating on him with Carl and is pregnant. Amy wants to take the kids to New York with her and Lee but Ste is having none of it – “NO!” he says.

But then he changes his mind –  ”OK!” he says.

Hard hitting.

We can also reveal that Ash has some sexy time with someone very unlikely, but we’d already slid off the couch before we found out who it was.

Sorry.

You’re welcome!! Now beat it.

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