Oh! The Solar Plexus Massage!
One of the joys of Big Brother – and they’re few and far between, these days, so we relish them where we can – is seeing people who lie dig graves then claim that they don’t lie. Bea and David are in the kitchen and David is surly with Bea. “Why don’t we talk any more?” Bea asks, and David tells her that he’s angry with her because she accused him of stealing bread and butter. WHICH SHE DID. “I never accused you of anything!” she shouts, but she did, and then gets upset and calls him a bully. “I never accused you of anything!” she repeats over and over, even though she did, and David starts to get upset. David is a lunk, and deals with this in some stupid manner, but Bea is a liar and is being increasingly manipulative. The argument gets dragged into the open in front of the rest of the house, and Bea shouts about what a bully David is, calls him dishonest, and makes out that this is a wider issue than it is. Freddie throws his oar in – after spending time in the bedroom rubbing his chest, acting like he’s high and getting some weird sexual dervish on – and defends Bea. (Freddie is usually very observant, and it’s disappointing that he mis-read Bea. Cock > Brain, eh?) Lisa can smell a fellow manipulator. “She’s going to play this as a martyr,” she says, and try to get David nommed. Bea, on the other hand, goes into the bedroom and cuddles up to new House God Marcus. “Oh Marcus, I hate it,” she says, and then together they bitch about Lisa and David. How the tide turns, eh? In the garden, David cries, and I don’t believe for a second that the tears aren’t real. Bad Bea!
The argument continues with Bea pushing this further and further, accusing David of lying about being upset, and saying that he was shouting, which he wasn’t. “Did he really shout?” asks Marcus, and Bea says that he did, when he didn’t. Rodrigo comes into the bedroom and Bea brings the argument up again for his sake. It’s almost tiresomely obvious what she’s trying to do. Marcus then goes and has a go at David about other stuff, and then Bea throws herself in again in front of everybody. She might have played this absolutely wrong, because Sophie and Rodrigo could nom her for causing aggro alongside Lisa and David. But, you know, when nobody else is around, David tells Bea that he doesn’t want to argue, and then Bea reports to others that she instigated their ‘reconciliation’ entirely. Oh, Bea Bea Bea.
Today’s task is some shit where people get dressed up like gnomes or caterpillars, and then the caterpillars get wrapped up in cling film, set to lie down on the ground, and then told to stand up. It looks like what it is: a bunch of twats wrapped in plastic, wriggling around. Afterwards, Lisa, David and Sophie sit around and bitch about Marcus. “I can’t stand to sit next to him!” says Sophie, which is in slight contrast to last week’s protest against his eviction, but there we go. Bea then goes to the diary room and bitches about David. “He’s a bland Yorkshire pudding, and Lisa’s the gravy. They’re still Yorkshire pudding and gravy, which isn’t satisfying. At all.”
Anyway, best part of the episode: Marcus’ sex story. Here it is, I’ll let you judge it. “Once I used a fortune cookie to get sex. This girl had one that said ‘Bluebells are your lucky flower’ and I had one that said ‘Saturday is your lucky night’ and I knew this field where there were bluebells, so I took her there, pointed out that it was saturday and that there were bluebells. Then I took her home and had sex with her.” BEST. (FAKE) SEX. STORY. EVER.
The housemates then have some nice dinner and Charlie winds Rodrigo up about fancying David. “You’d sit on his knee for a can of cider,” he says. Who would fancy David? I mean, really. Rodrigo then bleats on about meeting the Queen – which is HILARIOUS as he’s already met David, right? HA HA HA HA! – and then laughs like a fucking scarecrow as David guzzles cocks sweets. Bea sits in the garden and talks about how well known she is. “I’m well known at festivals, at gigs, on my street, in Ibiza. I’m actually quite a big deal!” she says. And then, Oh! CRINGE! Freddie declares his love for Bea as they lie in bed. “I thought we fancied each other,” he says. “I thought we were friends,” she replies, and then turns away from him and ignores him. “Do you fancy me?” he asks. “No,” she says. He grins that grin the whole time. “That’s a shame,” he says. She turns the situation against him. “I don’t operate on that sort of level, and I haven’t been asked that since I was fourteen.” She turns away and shuns him.
Ouch. Ouch all round, really, where Bea is involved, right?
