Nick VR4
20-01-2007, 08:25 PM
Jade's Week
Monday
I’m in the kitchen in the Big Bruvver Haaahs, an’ I’m drinkin’ a cup of Oxo cube tea. Everybody is trying to talk, but I ain’t listening. I’m trying to work sumfink aaht.
The fing what I don’t get, yeah, is taps. Coz there’s all this water in there, innit? And you turn it on, and it comes out, only it keeps coming out, like forever. And taps ain’t that big and water dunt get smaller when you squash it. Or maybe it does, but only a bit. So what I want to know is how you fit, like, a big lot of water into only a little bit of tap. Yeah? I try asking Sheeepa, the Indian bird, but she laughs at me like I’m makin’ a joke or sumfink. Stuck up f***ing bitch.
Tuesday
I’m in the Diary Room.
“Jade,” says Big Bruvver. “How do you feel about Shilpa?” I shrug. “The fing abaaht Shimpa, yeah, is that she’s a girl, right, but she dunt talk about farting or shagging and she dunt drink.” “Jade,” says Big Bruvver. “Is this a problem?” I snort. “Problem for her, innit? It’s like she’s well sheltered. She ain’t enjoying the finer fings in life. She ain’t ciliv
. . . ciphiph . . . cizal . . . ” “Civilised?” says Big Bruvver. “Yeah,” I say. “That’s the one.”
Wednesday
“I fink she should just go home,” says Danielle, who got famous by getting sacked from being Miss England for shagging a footballer, and is a well classy bird.
We’re naked in the hot tub, ’aving a competition to see who is best at burping out whatever song was playing on the car stereo when we each lost our virginities. We just invited Shoopa to join in, and she weren’t havin’ any of it. Made out like she was better than us, which musta looked pretty bad on the telly. That’s the thing about them foreigns, innit? They don’t know when they look stupid.
Thursday
The fing what I don’t get, yeah, is how come nobody else in the house realises I’m the most famous person here. What have they all done? There’s Jermaine Jackson, who’s only here coz of his brother, and Shrimpa, who might as well be from the Moon. If any of the others have ever done a fitness video, I ain’t seen it.
Friday
The fing what I don’t get, yeah, is how I can be a racistalist. Coz a racistalist, yeah, don’t like people coz of the colour of their skin. I coont give a monkey’s about Sherpa’s skin colour. I just don’t like ’er manners, cooking, clothes or the way she worships gods wiv all them arms. But what’s that got to do with racistalism? A normal person could do all that, and I wouldn’t like them either. So it aint got nuffink to do wiv Shampoo being a darky, alright?
“Jade,” says Big Bruvver, in a sort of tired voice. “You have been evicted. Please leave the Big Brother House.” “You what?” I say, startled. “Why?”
Monday
I’m in the kitchen in the Big Bruvver Haaahs, an’ I’m drinkin’ a cup of Oxo cube tea. Everybody is trying to talk, but I ain’t listening. I’m trying to work sumfink aaht.
The fing what I don’t get, yeah, is taps. Coz there’s all this water in there, innit? And you turn it on, and it comes out, only it keeps coming out, like forever. And taps ain’t that big and water dunt get smaller when you squash it. Or maybe it does, but only a bit. So what I want to know is how you fit, like, a big lot of water into only a little bit of tap. Yeah? I try asking Sheeepa, the Indian bird, but she laughs at me like I’m makin’ a joke or sumfink. Stuck up f***ing bitch.
Tuesday
I’m in the Diary Room.
“Jade,” says Big Bruvver. “How do you feel about Shilpa?” I shrug. “The fing abaaht Shimpa, yeah, is that she’s a girl, right, but she dunt talk about farting or shagging and she dunt drink.” “Jade,” says Big Bruvver. “Is this a problem?” I snort. “Problem for her, innit? It’s like she’s well sheltered. She ain’t enjoying the finer fings in life. She ain’t ciliv
. . . ciphiph . . . cizal . . . ” “Civilised?” says Big Bruvver. “Yeah,” I say. “That’s the one.”
Wednesday
“I fink she should just go home,” says Danielle, who got famous by getting sacked from being Miss England for shagging a footballer, and is a well classy bird.
We’re naked in the hot tub, ’aving a competition to see who is best at burping out whatever song was playing on the car stereo when we each lost our virginities. We just invited Shoopa to join in, and she weren’t havin’ any of it. Made out like she was better than us, which musta looked pretty bad on the telly. That’s the thing about them foreigns, innit? They don’t know when they look stupid.
Thursday
The fing what I don’t get, yeah, is how come nobody else in the house realises I’m the most famous person here. What have they all done? There’s Jermaine Jackson, who’s only here coz of his brother, and Shrimpa, who might as well be from the Moon. If any of the others have ever done a fitness video, I ain’t seen it.
Friday
The fing what I don’t get, yeah, is how I can be a racistalist. Coz a racistalist, yeah, don’t like people coz of the colour of their skin. I coont give a monkey’s about Sherpa’s skin colour. I just don’t like ’er manners, cooking, clothes or the way she worships gods wiv all them arms. But what’s that got to do with racistalism? A normal person could do all that, and I wouldn’t like them either. So it aint got nuffink to do wiv Shampoo being a darky, alright?
“Jade,” says Big Bruvver, in a sort of tired voice. “You have been evicted. Please leave the Big Brother House.” “You what?” I say, startled. “Why?”