WEEK 2 of I'M A CELEBRITY 2008. And with all due respect to Baloo you have to say we discovered a couple of new things.

Namely? That not all Behrs are a necessity. And David Van Day is the king of the swingers, the jungle MVP.

Like all dodgy DVDs plucked from a bargain bin, Dave's main attractions are his extras.

Extra aggro. Extra bollo. And most importantly, extra ego.

I mean, have you ever met anyone who wakes up singing Happy Birthday to themselves?

Incredible.

No doubting he's lifted this show out of a sticky pit though. Ant & Dec will always remain the main (and often only) reason for buying a ticket.

But the monstrous Van Day taking on WAG Hag Nicola McLean (Jill from Nighty Night) is a fairly satisfying undercard.

Please don't go thinking I actually like the fella though. Cos, to put it bluntly, a week after Nicola wished her implants many happy returns Van Day became the third fake, bloated and wholly unappealing t*t to celebrate a birthday in this year's jungle.

Under no circumstances should he be allowed to win. A place in the final week is the very most he deserves.

And the producers will surely edit his ass out of there before the crown arrives.

Because, yes, Kilroy was right. That editing suite is the busiest place in the jungle right now.

Poo

ITV erased Kilroy because he was too good at trials. And ITV will make sure they get the winner they want. Only problem is I don't have a clue who that is. And I'm fairly sure they don't either.

Joe Swash's early momentum is gone, and he should be voted off for his constant nut- cratching alone (has he got yabbies in his pants or what?).

Esther Rantzen's many mind games are too obvious. And, even more worryingly, I'm starting to fancy her a bit.

And while George Takei may well have a huge gay following (Brian, I think he's called), he might suffer for that lacklustre Bushtucker Trial. Those ostriches were so disinterested they went off for a poo instead. (Still, they weren't the first beaky, beady-eyed birds to let us down this year. Hi Carly and Dani.)

Meanwhile, Martina Navratilova surely signed her death warrant with maximum stars in Friday's far-too-easy, not-at-all- scary trial. Simon Webbe summed up his own impact when he felt the need to identify himself during his plea for votes.

Desperate PC Paddick has caught a raging showbiz virus and the fact that he wasn't evicted first has already gone dangerously to his head.

And of Nicola's many faults it's her constant repeating of words for effect which I find so, so, so, so annoying.

As for Timmy Mallet, I think he's best summed up by this fireside conversation.

Nicola: "Is your wife the same personality as you?"

Crayons

Timmy: "She's funny." So that'll be a No then.

Vote Takei.

NB: Bush queries. If Brian Paddick married David would he become Doris Van Day?

Re this "anal bleaching" procedure George spoke of - do the surgeons use Bumestos? Is Diana Focke a member of the ITV crew or a description of Esther's eight years of celibacy? When will ITV2 book a toddler with crayons to colour Matt Willis's naff tattoo in?

And when Dec labelled Carly Zzzucker's time on the show "an eventful 14 days" was that the funniest, most sarcastic thing you've heard all year?

Yeah? Me too.

BIGGEST news from the headquarters of The Church Of Simontology? Rhydian and Same Difference were back serving on the altar last week.

And while Cowell Almighty was outwardly overjoyed at seeing two of his record label's artists plugging their new singles to millions of viewers for free (hello, is that Ofcom?), inside he was surely acknowledging a painful truth.

Namely, none of this year's X FACTOR acts has produced a performance even approaching the Vegas-like spectaculars from the Rhyddler and the weirdy, smiley siblings last year.

Which is why we've had to endure all that stage-managed offstage nonsense instead. With the definite lowpoint being Louis Walsh and Dannii Minogue falling out over a Take That song. All a bit embarrassing really, wasn't it?

Although I do agree that the bullying aspect was a little unsavoury for Saturday night telly. I mean, Cowell bullying Louis into giving Dannii a kiss.

No man should be forced to do that.

PS: Query. If yodelling Diana, the princess of wails, ever recorded with her mentor Cheryl's band, would they call themselves Vickers & Tarts?

HOT JOB GORDON

C4, Friday night. And, over at CO*KALONG LIVE, Gordon Ramsay (below) was taking 13 minutes to "make a Dragon Roll".

Which, by my reckoning, is roughly an hour less than it took him the week before.

Fair play to him for showing up though. Cos, after the week he'd had, it was only ever going to be a feast of double-entendres. And so it proved.

Even before his stunning finale (imploring Donna from Essex to "show me your hot bananas!") he'd been busily grating his "little knob of ginger". (Surprised Tana hadn't done that already.)

And, man, did he pick the wrong week to "get to grips with pulling my noodles by hand". Never heard of noodle pulling? Well, there's a knack to it. Perhaps I should let Gordon explain:

"A minimum of six pulls is needed to get to the right thickness."

Aye, Gord. And a couple of bottles of poppers.

FOOTNOTE. Re that ceiling collapse at one of Gordon's gastropubs. Was he using the bedroom upstairs at the time?

A SIGHT TOO FAR

STRICTLY COME DANCING updates. The judges were on IT TAKES TWO reminding us how well- qualified for the job they are. (I'd have respected them more if they'd just said "please don't sack us, BBC!")

Elsewhere? After spotting Zara Phillips in the front row I'm disappointed to announce that the Windsor gene has well and truly kicked in.

Plus, loudmouthed try- hard James Jordan revealed if he had a million pounds he'd spend it on a dream house (presumably that'll be one with a mirror on every surface.)

Len Goodman stood by his advice to Christine Bleakley: "Whip off your knickers and fling them in the air" (Fair enough Len. But how can you be sure she's wearing any?)

Claudia Winkleman offered Tom Chambers "a mugful of hot honey" (Still not sure whether it was a caring gesture on account of his flu or simply a filthy chat-up line.)

And, on last Sunday's results show, John Barrowman, above, had the cheek to sing Can't Take My Eyes Off You. No, John. Can't take my eyes off you.

Cos every time I switch on the BBC there you bloody are!

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