News, Reviews, Features, Trailers & Rants...
After years of affecting to be above it all like the dickhead I am, it finally happened. I cared who won The Apprentice. "Alana's has the less risk of the two business plans," I said to myself. "Surely Lord Sugar will see that; what self-respecting businessman wouldn't?" Well played, 2016. You win.
What's for dinner tonight? Is it ... ROAST LAMB? Because ... because they're like lambs, you see, and they're getting roasted, and, and ... oh, forget it. It's Interview Week, that's all you've come for. Are you not entertained?
There's one man left and five women, just like that dream I keep having about being overpowered by the female Gladiators.
This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill: the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill: you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember: all I'm offering is the truth. Nothing more.
Because they have chips at casinos. You know, as tokens for the ... you stopped reading these weeks ago, didn't you?
Ahhh, the sea. She is a cruel mistress. This week, not one but two contestants will be taking a power nap with the fishes as the remaining Apprentices are lost at sea for this week's task. The boat show must go on.
As I said back in December
, continuing to watch The Apprentice in the event of a Trump presidency would be a discomfiting experience. And so it proves. The only light at the end of this tunnel is that the prospect of Lord Sugar becoming a ranting far-right demagogue who wins power in the UK is laughably slim, because engaging an audience, or even convincing one that he is more than barely alive, is not really his strong point.
These are testing times: as we approach the series finale of 2016 AKA That Was The Worst Year That Was, this time next week we could be watching our hapless Apprenti flapping around while a man whose name is a northern euphemism for passing wind could be leader of the free world. Speaking of hot air …
I think there must be some mistake. This week's task appeared to be one that actually tested the candidates' sales acumen, a skill that might prove useful to Lord Sugar in a potential business partner, without requiring them to manufacture the items themselves, dress up as the Pet Shop Boys or learn Morris dancing. If he's not careful he'll end up with a viable commercial proposition on his hands.
How much fudge could a fudge packer pack, if the person packing fudge was after a £250,000 investment for his sausage factory? Monsieur, with these ridiculous tasks you are really spoiling us.