I’ve long despised Gillian McKeith. She is at the apex of the dreadful snobbish TV shows that scream "You there! On the couch! Your life is rubbish! You are hideous! Let me help… and no, you have no choice in the matter". Well, even by Gillian’s standards, she’s reached new levels of hideousness in last night’s You Are What You Eat: Gillian Moves In (Channel 4, Tuesday, 8pm)

People have tried to tell me in the past that Gillian is lovable because she is high camp. Hmmm. Now, when I think of camp, I think of Kim & Aggie from How Clean is Your House? Gillian McKeith is not camp fun. She’s a mean spirited moron with a snobbishness that warrants all the bile I can muster. Last night, McKeith sank to new TV lows in an attempt to show her ‘tough love’. Well, there is a fine line between tough love and bullying. McKeith’s camp is firmly pitched in the latter.

The show began with McKeith abusing the people of Castleford. Now, when someone signs up for this godforsaken show, I can acknowledge that they have at least volunteered for some abuse. However, McKeith stood in the middle of a shopping centre with a megaphone, shouting abuse to anyone who was overweight. Why, I’d be inclined to get her arrested on grounds of creating a breach of the peace and being abusive. If overeating is a sickness, then shouting at strangers with a megaphone… just so every single person within a mile radius can hear the abuse… is hardly going to help is it? Imagine me, going into an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting and screaming "YOU’RE ALL A BUNCH OF HOPELESS SOAKS! YOU MAKE ME ILL! URGH! AND YOU SMELL LIKE A DRIP TRAY!" I’d hope that someone would smack me in the mouth and then boot me out into the street in front of the next passing bus. You see, it’s this hate filled ‘help’ that drives me mad about McKeith. She’s so unpleasant that surely no-one watching at home will want to buy into her woolly worded tripe. Look at Jamie Oliver. Some people like him, and so, when he preaches to people on telly about school dinners, then fans of his will probably try and act out his wishes. McKeith’s show is so self-serving that no-one at home will take her advice. They merely tune in to watch some poor sods getting abused. Hurrah for Britain!

To the show: the amount of times I raised an angry fist at the TV was quite possibly a record. First, McKeith demands poo from her subjects. This, for the record, is the only time we see a genuinely happy McKeith as she skips (literally) up the stairs, grinning inanely, at the promise of dung. Now, Gillian’s infatuation with poo is something that worries me greatly. Why, it wouldn’t surprise me if she sat at home with a scrapbook of all the stools she’s deposited and snapped for posterity. "Aahh… I remember that one… it was conker coloured and sausage shaped… I’m so brilliant." Brilliantly, the gentleman taking part in the show gave her a poo that made the sham doctor retch and nearly collapse under the stench. It was the only time I smiled throughout the whole programme.

Then, to another McKeith trademark. Getting a table full of rubbish food and standing the participants next to it. She then did something which I could barely believe. She began to throw chocolate and crisps at the fatties. AT THEM!?! All the time firing off insult after insult ("you’re disgusting" et cetera). Then, when all the food hit the floor, she threw a dust-pan and brush at them and made them clean it up. Absolutely horrible. This throwing of food around brings me neatly to another gripe I have with McKeith. For a paragon of virtue, she’s incredibly wasteful. She throws food all over the floor and then, in one of her surreal props (like the chocolate gravestone or the human made from minced beef) she got 22 pints of milk in a giant milk carton, threw some steaks in it and stirred it all up with a giant bone. I really wish I was making that up, but sadly, it happened. Now, for someone who preaches a correct way to live, she didn’t half ruin a lot of perfectly good food in the name of shock tactics. How would she feel if I wiped my arse on a thousand spinach leaves just to ram home a flaky point? She’d probably cry her sorry little frame to sleep forever and take her anguish out on the nations obese.

McKeith is also cruel in the food she offers to the fatties. She makes them beetroot and celery juice. Now, even the most hardened veg lover would probably find that hard to swallow… but not McKeith. You see, a bit of sweetness always helped the medicine go down… and obviously, I don’t mean a spoonful of sugar. When making beetroot and celery juice, why not throw an apple in to make it taste reasonably nice? Surely apples aren’t off limits are they?  Maybe that’s the whole point of this completely pointless show. This show is obviously about self flagellation. You can’t earn your health unless you’ve paid for your culinary sins. In McKeith’s eyes, you lose the right to any humanity. You’re fat, so shut up. This horrible drink is all your fault you lardy knacker. In my experience, tough love only works when you mix it up with a loving arm around a shoulder from time to time. I say this without fear. I long for the day when Gillian McKeith has some kind of addiction and someone literally bullies it out of her and breaks her spirit forever. It’s what she deserves. The liberal in me dies at the mere mention of this woman’s name, and I long for her to suffer in the same way her victims do. If her existence isn’t bad enough, she’s appealing for people to come forward and take part in wedding special in the summer. My advice? Run a mile in the opposite direction. Running makes you lose weight and you won’t have to endure the most evil woman on TV. [Mof Gimmers]