Big Brother's Big Lesbian: Into the last furlong.

Mr X is back from an undercover mission in Brighton. Unfortunately, Operation Gravey was thwarted by an aggressive seagull, which attacked Mr X on the pier. The seagull wanted Mr X’s Harry Ramsden battered sausage, and it ended in carnage.

Mr X was on the cusp of finding the underlying cause of Tracey’s dark secret, but alas just as the covert information was winging itself into Mr X’s ear piece. He vicious attacked happened.

Doesn’t matter now though as Tracey was evicted from her Phat stack along with Kara-Louise. Mr X and his mission were all for nought

Poor old Tracey, she did not even have time to put on her eviction outfit. She only managed to put on her cardigan that looked like it had been smeared by Carole’s piccalilli.

That Carole is becoming a nasty old git isn’t she. I am sure if she could, she would be a good squadron leader for Hitler’s youth. I find myself cowering behind cushions when someone else is in her kitchen, saying things like “Noooo, don’t touch that spatula Carole’s coming”

I have recoiled a few times this week. Jonty and his sausage and Jonty and his unique hair drying techniques are high on then list. Brian is starting to grate my nerves as well. The twin seduction plan is obviously not working, but he still tries. He has the tenacity of a Jack Russell on heat.

I asked MR X for any other information and he said she would trade secrets of Chanelle and Charley for four boxes of frosted flakes, two curly-wurlys, seven Tikka Marsala mini-pizzas and one delicatessen style wombat penis. I declined, I am not that bothered about them anyway.

With Tracey gone and thankfully Kara-Louise (and I say that only as the housemates were outright foul to her) I ask you, surely the nastiest housemate has to be Liam?

I have decided that when I go to the last BBBM show, where all the housemates will be vying for airtime, I will hand Carole a big jar of piccalilli and say, “Here, from the taxpayers of Britain, which obviously fund your expensive organic habit, enjoy from the idiocy of New Labour”

Will Carole give up her job seekers allowance now and get a job I wonder? She certainly seems able to work, she has organisational skills. The woman could run her own country if need be. Maybe Luxembourg is looking for a president.

Personally, the end cannot come quick enough. Its just painful now, it is like the dying moments of a family wedding. Your feet are killing, you cant see straight from the 10 bottles of champagne you’ve drunk, your voice hurts from having to yell over ‘Oops upside your head’ the 20 Benson and hedges you’ve smoked in one hour have clogged your throat and you just want to go home.
Yet you can’t because you are sharing a hotel room with Auntie Edith, a hirsute behemoth of a woman, who is snogging the best man underneath the buffet table stopping you from leaving…That is the feeling I have right now.

Roll on Friday. I will be writing my Finale blog at the end of the week, and will be getting random shots of the housemates when I meet them.

Madame Du Pravee and Mr X are also going to attend and I will attempt to take a picture of them, though they are camera shy!

BBBL