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"He spun us some shit about the avian wonders of the jungles of New Guinea," explained a BBC executive, "but then he sent in an hour's worth of him hanging around with a load of page 3 girls. It's mainly just him saying stuff like 'Cor, bet you don't get many of those to the pound!' and chasing them round his garden."
"Paid the cost to be the boss," explained Attenborough, smoking a massive cigar in a jacuzzi.
The BBC came under fire this afternoon as furious licence fee-payers saw the beard Damian Lewis is to wear as Henry VIII in Wolf Hall and said as one: "Not in my name."
"As gingers go, he's probably the best of the lot," admitted viewer Thackeray Fatch. "I liked that thing where he played the man in the war who was good at the war and Dexter Fletcher shouted a bit.
"But adding a beard is aggressively ginger if anything. It's typical of the BBC, pushing their liberal agenda and shoving minorities in our face. This is like how Idris Elba is playing James Bond, or how they've made the Pet Shop Boys Chinese.
"Next thing you know there'll be a Greek reading the news."
I know two weeks is a long time to wait for a recap, but it's taken this long for the police to cut through the chains tying me to the railings outside Lord Sugar's house, where I turned up on Sunday 21st in protest. Let's just say some things were yelled, some slogans were daubed in biohazardous material, but in the end no one got hurt. By now you should all know who won, and I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT. Nevertheless, let's recap the night as it happened and see if anything I say will stand up in court.
I have heard that the Google recruitment process is made up of eight different interviews, in one of which the candidate is lead into an empty room and someone leaps out from behind a curtain, to gauge how they deal with stress. Faced with this, I think I would strike out and kill the person from behind the curtain with a blow to the oesophagus, and then presumably Google would immediately make me CEO, or something.
Yup, it's that part of The Apprentice when people nervously rethink their LinkedIn profile and wonder whether their employer is ever going to double-check that 100m swimming badge that they never actually got. It's interview week!
You could look at The Missing two ways, I suppose. Either it was ultimately about what happened to the kid or about what his disappearance did to his parents. The latter was more interesting to me but the finale tried a bit too hard to satisfy on both counts, letting them cancel each other out in the end. (Spoilers.)
So far we've said goodbye to Dapper Laughs, The Sad-Eyed Woman, Fabulous Stephen, Lauren The Bratz Doll, Pamela (nope, me neither), The Sockless Wanker and finally, last week Fat Daddy Felipe got the chop and it was like seeing a pug being put to sleep.
Still left in the competition we have Sanjay whose name baffles me, Sarah Millican's younger sister, Rocket Surgeon Mark, Danyewl (how?), Solomon Blue Suit, Bianca and her million different shades of pink lipstick, and Roisin who I always forget is around. There are still more people left in The Apprentice than have auditioned for The X Factor over the past 10 years. Is our licence fee paying for all those taxis that ferry them around?
Obviously I don't watch The Apprentice, because it is among the litany of modern cultural images intended to discourage individual thought, divert our notions of aspiration towards dreams of meaningless celebrity, and make us dumb, compliant and less likely to rise up and overthrow the shadowy conservative plutocracy that owns the media. But I've recapped last night's episode anyway for funzies.
Remember when Wednesdays were fun? When you could do as you wanted and not be a slave to the corporate machine? I miss those days.
All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl
Probably the easiest way to turn yourself into an online pariah or to bait hate-clickers right now is to say you feel sorry for Dapper Laughs, so it's a good job I don't. Fifteen minutes of fame is as much as his act merited. But I did get the sense, watching him being skewered by Emily Maitliss on Newsnight this week, that he hadn't quite appreciated that there's a difference between being an internet star and a TV personality, and that the two arenas have different rules.