OK, there is officially nothing to write about Big Brother now. The tasks are so anodyne and designed to keep the peace, they almost have the opposite effect.
Everyone is tied to their own role. Dirk stays grumpy. Jo stays bitter, engulfed in toxic smoke. Danielle remains a spoilt little madam. Jack makes planks look like feasible romantic options. Cleo scrunches up her hair. Ian teaches the others a few dance steps and worries he's being a bit dominating. Shilpa is the only person waivering: walking a fine line between respectable public image and the temptation of being tainted by a British 18-30 holiday.
There's no romance, no violence, almost no humour. The stars are being dulled by the grot. Dirk and Jermaine are having such a bad time, it's painful to watch. It's like they took a wrong turn at the old folks home and fell into a TV studio in Elstree. Where is the A Team dazzle? The Jackson weirdness? Having said that, they're my favourites. Which says something else, something weird and tragic.
Will they kick out some people tomorrow? Does anyone care?