We had to cover it. The Big Brother Launch Show (Channel 4, Thursday, 5 June, 9pm) is, whether you like it or not, one of the biggest TV events of the year. Last night’s was particularly poignant as I reckon it’s going to be the last. That’s a relief eh? Weirdly, the Holy Moly mailout shared a video of the TVScoop office today, showing my response to the programme. Suffice to say, I wasn’t best pleased that I was missing Heroes on BBC Two.

Anyway, once I’d calmed down, I scribbled down some thoughts (in my own blood on the walls).

With each new Big Brother comes a brand new sinking feeling. Talking to Paul (the Editor of this noble site) this morning (apologising for trashing the office) we both likened BB to one of those dreams you have when you feel like someone is sat on your chest and you can barely breathe. With BB9 set to unfur over a whopping 14 years, it looks like there could be some casualties. So what was new? Well, the contestants (more on those later) were dropped off in what looked like the A-Team van. Also, BB9 will be ZERO TOLERANCE. With this, sees the introduction of a load of rules involving padded cells, giant poker chips to buy things with and… to be honest, I found it quite confusing and I don’t care enough to work it out.

I’ve also said in the past that this was the Big Brother that needed to get its act together. Something new and fresh was needed if it was going to be saved. However, once more, the producers have picked a bunch of people that left me (and the rest of the nation I dare say) thinking ‘Where do they find these people?’ Once, that was quite the novelty. Now, it’s so crushingly predictable that surely people will be switching BB9 off in droves. So, onto ‘these people’.

Alexandra

Alexandra is one of those people who likes to tell you that her life is just like a Destiny’s Child album. She’s a survivor… and an independent woman. The shoes on her feet? She bought ‘em. However, with that comes a horribly misguided sense of self-worth. I imagine she’s going to be argumentative and begin sentences with ‘I’m not being funny yeah? But…’.

Dale

Dale doesn’t see the point in talking to ugly people. Dale will be tapping it up if there’s “fanny in the house”. He’s remarkably vain and moronic and, as a result, Heat magazine will absolutely love him and loathe him in equal measures. I’d be surprised if he goes the distance.

Darnell

Darnell is a photo-negative of Dennis Rodman. He’s a big overbearing black American… but the added twist is that he’s an albino. I can only assume that he’s been put in to either a) Cause a ruck or b) Look a bit weird on the telly (otherwise known as a ‘freak show’).

Dennis

A fag-hag’s wet dream. Dennis is camper than John Inman sat in a bay window sipping a gin, listening to 50′s keep-fit records, overlooking a thousand rows of pink tents. He will cry. He will argue. He will provide occasional humour.

Jennifer

Jennifer doesn’t like immigrants. Big Brother hasn’t learned from the whole Jade Goody thing.

Kathreya

Kathreya will no doubt want to be accepted for who she is. Who is she? Well, first impressions are that she looks like that potty oriental woman who cooks on the telly.

Lisa

There’s not much to say about Lisa. She’s the girlfriend of Mario and is probably quite jealous. She’ll probably patronise the other girls in the house and will invariably like talking about her own breasts.

Luke

Luke is this years Jon Tickle/Eugene/Glyn/square set to go on a ‘journey’. He don’t drink, smoke, swear… etc… and seemingly comes from Britain circa 1950. That’s not a bad thing of course. He seems alright I suppose. Britain is good at rearing eccentrics like this.

Mario

Mario reeks of ‘thinks he’s a local celebrity’. I’m told that he’s appeared on a whole host of reality shows (including the one about becoming Pete Burns PA). He’s one of these people you see hanging around carshops who walks with authority and listens to funky house. I’ve no doubt in my mind that, when he goes out for a dance, he does it without a shirt. He’s really called Nigel or something.

Michael

My fave by a country mile. Michael is blind and looks like Peter Tork from the Monkees. If you want a more modern reference point, he looks and dresses a bit like Beck. For no other reason, I want this kid to win. He won’t.

Mohamed

Mohamed is from Somalia and seen bad things. Not that I care. What I do like is his afro. That is all.

Rachel

Rachel seems to be the only woman in the house with a little bit of common sense. She talks a helluva lot, but seems to be quite a nice person. This inevitably means that someone will make her cry, the ‘bitches’ will gang up on her and ensure that the viewing public will hold her up as some kind of martyr for humankind. Ironically, these same people will act like bitches down the pub or at work.

Rebecca

Rebecca can’t speak English. Which is strange for an Englishwoman from Coventry. She rattles and chews words in her cement mixer mouth and the result comes tumbling out like incoherent babblings from a bible belt seizure. She’s going to be the new ‘that fat girl from Wales who liked talking about her hooters’.

Rex

Vain. Cocky. Shy underneath. Get that? He’s all misunderstood. That doesn’t stop people from not liking him (by his own admission). He’s a completely forgettable human being.

Stephanie

Oh dear. You know when you see some people and think ‘you’re a product of every single terrible aspect of reality TV’? Well, Stephanie is one of those people. She’s dim and chesty… and thinks that batting eyelashes or being an abhorrent snide will get her some kind of notoriety. I fully expect to see her in Nuts in the future and, without question, there will be a ‘SHE IS AN ANIMAL IN BED’ headline over the weekend.

Sylvia

Sylvia is the black equivalent of Stephanie basically… perhaps with a bigger chip on her shoulder. Expect Makosi styled divaisms from her. You’ll hate her with all your might.