Apprentice final - it's Stella, but what a ride

I've been there!

The final chapter begins with Stella and Chris heading off to the Langham hotel in London - I've been there! (It's very choice, but you can normally nip in and use the lav without being hassled) - but do they have to take two cars?
I wonder if they'll get the rest of them back to help. Oh they do. I'd forgotten what an ugly bunch they are. Quite hideous. Ha! The Australian one gets picked last - stitch that. Oh how she squirms like the fat kid at football who one team gets stuck with. Well look at me now!
They have to create a new drink and advertising campaign, then pitch it to industry types, and all in three days.
As the man says, giggidy-giggidy-goo.
Both Chris and Stella lie and say it's good to see the other idiots back. It isn't, they're horrible.
Anyway the mightiest minds get together and come up with...
Pomegranete rum? That's what Chris is going for - the idiot! Stella seems to want to go for a blue drink - equally stupid as the booze experts tell her.
But will her urban bourbon (Urbon) do the trick? Well it looks better than the pink goo Liz has got for Chris. So to speak.
Chris, Jamie and that one who looks like Penfold are the stupidest looking crew you can get and their advert idea that some lad gets a girl leathered on their drink so he gets his end away gets smashed down by the ad people.
The bottles turn up and Chris's looks like a metronome - how the fart do you pour it? - but he and his dimwits seem made up with it. Oh yes, it's called Prism. At least Stella's is recognisably a bottle of booze.
At the ad shoot Chris has a bartender scooping pomegranete into a glass - it looks moronic - while Stella's sussed that getting women asking for the drink in her ad is the way to go, and she seems to be miles ahead.
Chris's ad looks awful - a load of hoorays being tits - where did he get the idea from? And this is the difference between the two finalists - Stella's streetwise and smart whereas Chris is just businesslike. She's been the clear winner for weeks now and if she hadn't won there would have been a stewards'.
When it comes to the pitches, before a crowd of booze execs or something, Chris declares he's after people who drink at home or when they're out. Brilliant. As he blathers on about the public's demand for more rum-based cocktails, one consumer sips it and looks like he's tasted chilled vomit. The ad is awful, it doesn't show anyone drinking the thing until it's nearly over, but Chris handles the audience's questions well, so it's not a total disaster.
'Urbon, the new way of drinking bourbon,' is Stella's line. But it sounds like someone going 'bubbleubbleubbleubble'. Which could be a problem.
And so they're off to the boardroom for the last time with Stella declaring 'I'm the winner' possibly somewhat prematurely. It might be the editing or maybe that she's so close to the end but she seems more of a shit in this episode.
Sugar is surprised Stella delegated the tasting of her filthy muck, and he's right. For Chris, the colour of his drink got bashed because it was pink, despite Chris asking for clear. His ad is panned but the idea of the drink is clever whereas Stella's bottle of vinegar trips her up, although the booze itself went down well.
Chris and Stella make their final pleas and Chris looks like he's kicked for home at just the right time. It's an impressive performance - delivered while Stella sits there like she's balancing a turd on her top lip - but is it enough?
'Everything I want I always get,' Stella insists but it's the first time in the series she's looked worried. She needn't be as, just as it looked Chris had done it, Stella gets the nod. Leaving Chris sobbing into his best Next suit.
Then it's on to the You're Hired programme which this week is hosted by Morph wearing Dara O'Brien's suit.

Previously:
Fuck off Stuart
From the future
Fliam flam
Touch of drudge
So long Sandeesh!
Fuck off Alex
Episode 5-fear-and-loathing in M17

Apprentice semi final - fuck off Stuart (again)

Phwoar, it's Sugar tower! It’s almost the end of the cunt of the year show and it’s down to Stuart, Jamie, Joanna, Chris and Stella. Once again it’s an early-morning call - the sight of Stuart in bed is made even weirder by his Darth Vader breathing - and they’re off to Sugar’s Viglen offices for the interviews.  Before they leave Joanna rips in to Jamie’s attire – rightly, red tie? – and away we go. She’s an odd one, Joanna, when she talks to people she adopts a half Mr Burns/half Lizard Queen pose. Sugar addresses them from up a staircase, leaving them gawping up in awe at their god. And then they toddle off to have selection of Sugar’s henchpeople - including one who looks like a Noel Edmonds tribute act, and the ace Margaret Mountford - rip into them like fat backward kids on a chocolate bosom. Joanna looks like she’s going to shit herself at any moment and she fucks up royally when she can’t really explain what Viglen does or what companies Sugar has. The fella asks her and... (one of the first things they learn you at journalism school is, if there’s a silence, the other person will invariably fill it. So let it hang. Sugar’s ball-breakers do not fill that silence and are clearly happy for it to sit there indefinitely)... Oh man, that was a long silence! Margaret goes through their CVs and Chris’s claim that he’s ‘revered’ among theologians doesn’t stand up. ‘People in my school held me in awed respect,’ he splutters. And his half year studying law clearly doesn’t impress interrogator Claude who labels him a quitter. Chris denies this but goes bright red in the process.   Correctly, none of the candidates is coming clean to the others about how their interviews have gone. So despite Jamie getting absolutely hammered for his Cyprus property company being shit, he bounds down the stairs to the bukkake pit which doubles as the waiting area trilling ‘good interview!’ Stuart reckons Sugar saying he sees a little bit of himself in the Baggs is a complement. Maybe Sugar just recognises he can be a bit of a prick though. Either way you can’t knock his optimism but he’s the one who comes off worst in the interviews because he’s got no self awareness, although he sussed that Claude had him marked as a nobhead. The problem with Claude though is he’s just a nark and a bit of a cartoon bully. He isn’t intimidating, he’s just a bullet-headed tit. Like that nobhead PE teacher at everyone’s school who hates his job but always seemed to be knocking around with a fit bird. It’s ace to see Stuart squirm when he’s sussed on his blagging. Henchperson Gordon is having none of it and manages to restrain from dragging the little shit over the desk when Stuart asks, ‘sorry, what’s your name?’ But there’s something about him, when he says he’ll make Sugar a load of bread, it doesn't sound like absolute shite. It’s shite, but not absolute shite. Stella once again looks the business. She’s relaxed and confident, even sticking it to the nob who says she’s a glorified PA. With the interviews over it’s on to the boardroom. The interviewers run through the candidates before Sugar gets stuck into them. Chris gets stick for being boring but they all think he’s smart. Joanna comes out quite well, Jamie gets mild stick from them all, but it’s Stella that causes the most debate, with opinion split as to whether she’s an admin queen or a real go-getter.  The five candidates come into the boardroom and Sugar starts chipping away at the holes which have appeared in them over the weeks like Stella's rigid approach, Jamie's 'wasn't me' defence. Then it's Stuart's bollocks-chat ('you're full of shit,' Sugar tells him), and the reason Gordon kept on about his 'telecoms license' became clear. He lied, Sugar aint having it and - BLAMMO! - Stuart is fired. The other four put forward their pleas and it's more of the same corporate bollocks-speak before the shitty stick of doom prods Joanna (who starts crying) and Jamie, leaving Stella and Chris to fight it out in the final. All in all, pretty underwhelming really. And it's got to be Stella, hasn't it?

Apprentice episode 9 - the flim-flam

Taxi!

By eck, we're down to the last seven as The Apprentice attempts to stick a bit of heat under a show that's gone a bit tepid of late. I've switched over from I'm a Celebrity... for this and Stacey was doing the trial and there was definite boob jiggling. I'm taping it like so it's okay, but still, this better be good.
In the Apprentice batcave the phone goes at 5.30am - a time which works best in theory - and they're told to be ready in 30 minutes.
No way did they have time for showering, getting dressed and brekky - so who missed what? Stuart defo swerves a shower as a matter of course. Although lads do sweat less when their balls haven't dropped yet so that's not too awful. Bet he doesn't wipe his arse properly if he hears Working Lunch starting though, and that is not cool.
Anyway this week they have to buy 10 items in 10 hours, whoever spends least wins. It's lads versus lasses and we're off!
Jamie's in charge of the chaps. My word he's got kissable lips. Not sure who's in charge of the women because I was watching this after it was linked on Twitter. It's probably Stella. Oh no, it's Liz.
First stop for the girls is a cabby training gaff for a blue book, which is something to do with the knowledge. Liz and Joanna get it for £50.You know what? This is a really stupid quest and I'm not writing any more until they get to the boardroom...
... And we're back. The lads get back on time after a bit of a run which leaves Stuart panting like an asthmatic having a wank in a bin bag. Liz and Joanna get back late but get all 10 items. Between them the lads got seven. So is Jamie, who only got two, going home? Nope, incredibly and despite being 'fined' for the three they never got, the lads still came out on top.
The girls were a bit cocky here, and now one of them's getting it up the arse. So to speak. In a change, Sugar sends them home to reflect on their abject failure. Possibly in a great big lez-bath.
The next day the catfight begins. Or rather it doesn't as once again things don't ignite, but Joanna skates so it's Laura, Stella and Liz up for the chop. It can't be the project manager again, can it?
Christ Laura's horrible, she says things like 'if I'm honest' and 'I'm just saying' - when 'erm' or silence will do. There's nothing to choose between these three, but Stella and Liz seem to be slightly stronger.
Stella's 'corporate' reputation goes against her a bit and it looks like she's for the chop. But Sugar sells a HORRENDOUS dummy when he points the gun at Stella before switching to Laura.
 'I don't know whether I need corporate-style people, and for that reason...' he says to Stella, who closes her eyes waiting for the inevitable. Before Sugar continues '...I'm going to move on to you Laura. On balance I think we're at the end of the road.' She pleads for one more chance in a slightly pathetic final roll of the dice, but it's too late.
If ever you needed proof that this is just a telly programme and not, as Karen Brady says, about finding someone to work for Sugar this was it. It was horrendously staged, clumsy and more than a little ridiculous.

Best bit:
Laura: 'I'm bored of talking about the truffles.'

Previously:
Touch of drudge
So long Sandeesh!
Fuck off Alex
Episode 5-fear-and-loathing in M17

Apprentice episode 8 - a touch of drudge

Chameleon-like Christopher - here doing his 'Joey off friends'

Ah the joy of seeing bumbling idiots trying to out-dickhead each other. After a couple of poor(ish) episodes where it was pretty clear who was for the chop as soon as they got in the boardroom, we needed a proper blood bath this week.
Unfortunately we don't get one as the business school circus heads to Germany. Christopher gets in a bit of Stan Boardman with 'I hate the Germans!' and they're off to Hamburg to try and flog crisps.
Stella leads Team Puddle and Chris, who always speaks like he's trying to hold down vomit, is in charge of Team Flaps. You wouldn't think Stuart could sound more of a nob than last week's masterclass in talking to women but MAN hear him chant those German numbers. He's right though, paprika is fucking lovely.
They have to decide on flavours with Stella's mob going for stilton/paprika and chilli/beef - both of which sound ace - while Chris's troop go for ghoulash and curryvurst.
The actual flogging is quite hard to follow because of the rapid-fire editing - again! Is it just me can't tell who's on which team? - but a couple of stand out moments include Stuart and Laura coming up against an unblinking ball breaker who cant understand her. So naturally she talks fasterandfasterandfaster. The bloke does't like the crisps either. Soon Laura is declaring she 'doesn't give a shit' about the whole thing and then the heel comes off her shoe! Lovely stuff.
Meanwhile Christopher, who looks a bit like Fungus the Bogeyman this week, and dreamy Jamie pound the pavements trying to flog crisps - sorry, luxury chips - door-to-door at cafes, where Jamie helpfully explains the concept of crisps with a sarnie to one cafe worker.
It's in the boardroom where this programme should be at its best, but its been lacking lately and this is again another tame effort. Even Sugar seems weary of it all as he sighs about seeing the same faces back time and again. As it is, Stella's lot win by a mile and it's Chris and the rest of Team Tithead back for the bitch fight. 
The debate over who's at fault is a bit half-arsed but lovely Liz dodges the bullet so it's Christopher, Jamie and team leader Chris facing the bolt gun through the back of the head.
Chris says he's unlucky to be back in there and, while he's right to a degree because others did mess up (taking a late appointment thus allowing the other lot to nip in and get a massive sale, mainly), you don't say it to a bloke like Sugar.
Christopher is a water carrier, a strong back. He seems a grafter but do people, as the lord says, really like him? Either way, in a minor shock, it's Christopher who gets the chop. He looks gutted. The squaddie nob.
On the most important thing - looks - Jamie's an odd one, from straight on he looks good but from the left, as they keep showing him here, he looks like he's had a minor stroke. Is it just me thinks this programme is on its last legs? Needs a good 'un next week.

Best bit:
Gobby Joanna: 'Have I got my point across clearly enough? I want a sausage, I want a curry and I want paprika.' Whaddagal!

Previously:
So long Sandeesh!
Fuck off Alex
Episode 5-fear-and-loathing in M17

Apprentice episode 7 - so long Sandeesh!

Ta-ta!

This week the highest flyers the nation's City & Guilds events management courses can produce have to create blue screen videos - like they do action stuff for films like James Bond on - and sell them to shopping centre folks in west London's colossal monument to commerce, Westfield.
Leader of Team Dunderhead, Stuart, gets things going with his battle cry: "I'm a stupid moron with an ugly face and a big butt and my butt smells and I like to kiss my own butt." Or something. And pausing only to piss off his team mates (all women) razzes off in a racing car (that's what their film is, racing cars - a good idea, for kids, to be fair).
Stuart assumes last week's victim Alex's prick mantle and keeps going on about what an ace leader he is - big talk for a rosy cheeked fatarse with no self awareness and actual tits. Not 'moobs', TITS. He's clearly never had sex outside of a commercial arrangement. TITS!
At the shopping centre they set up with a little racing car in front of the blue screen and get some sales. Things look promising - cash changes hands as the parents see their kids pretend racing. But oh no! Customers complain that rogue kids turn up on the wrong DVDs (it's like Gary Glitter all over again). TITS!
Team Boob is led by Sandeesh and their idea is skiing, or snowboarding or some shite, because they are fucking stupid. Who the hell is going to pay money to piss about - in front of their pals or family, presumably - pretending to ski and then take a film home to show people?
When they open (late because no one can work the gear) no sod wants to have a go. Then they drop the price and finally attract some punters (their kids anyway) before going one better and nicking Team Dunderhead's idea and getting racing cars!
To the boardroom! How was Stuart, girls? A short silence, then BLAMMO! From all sides - but incredibly his team wins. The spawny wanker. Sandeesh? She's alright, is the consensus, but they lost so she has to decide who's going to be wriggling with her like some corporate worm under Sugar's magnifying glass. (I reckon Nick's the sun).
Chris's wet gob is flapping in indignance but he's back in with Liz, leaving the other two to slide home in their own oils. Chris is revving, spluttering how Sandeesh never spread the work out, and how blah blah blah.
He needn't worry, Liz neither, because Sugar's got Sandeesh in his sights and it's obvious she's doomed, probably for her overall performance throughout the series, and she's gone - without 'the point'!


Previously:

Fuck off Alex
Episode 5-fear-and-loathing in M17

Apprentice episode 6 - fuck off Alex

Hamster

Recap: They're all horrible pricks with no interest in working for Sugar and just want to be on telly.
To this week, where they have to come up with a new household cleaning product which they advertise on telly and radio.
Alex sets the tone nicely by roaring: "If I was an apple pie, the apples inside would be orange."
One lot calls theirs Germ-o-nator - in a horrible red and black bottle that would fit the bill in a sex shop - and the others go for Octi-clean (something to do with octopuses). Got to admit I can't tell who's on which team here because of the way they cut between scenes. It all blends in to one long splutter.
Anyway for one lot, Fattie Corden's spastic half cousin Stuart, who has a fucking EAR RING, voices the Germ-o-nator radio ad and he isn't awful. The telly ad is stupid though - it just is.
On the same team Laura wants to make cleaning more fun - which unless you're doing it on acid can only really be achieved by getting someone else to do it. Possibly naked. She looks more like Linda Blair out of the Exorcist with every week, and when she dismisses Sandeesh's pitch as rubbish it takes all her will to not puke devil spew on them.
With the other team there's just the hint of sexual tension brewing between Scouse Vladimir Putin-alike team leader Chris and moaning gobbo Joanna, and she gets the arse when he, correctly, casts lookers in his advert. It's got to be said their telly ad - did they do a radio one? - with its 'eight hands are definitely better than two' tagline is absolute shite.
The Octi-clean pitch is a dog and it gets pelters from the marketing experts as Jamie declares a quarter of men would give up a shag if their house was a tip. Really? I've done it in sheets that doubled as a napkin when I ate YESTERDAY'S PIZZA IN BED.
In the boardroom Sugar tears both teams to shreds but the Octi-clean ad gets it both barrels. Incredibly though Sugar likes the 'eight hands...' line. The idiot! The mind that brought us the emailer! He puts that team through so it's over to the other lot with their Germ-o-nator bollocks to see who gets sacked.
They all file in being quite pally but before long it's like a scene from St Trinians only with business studies BTEC types instead of strumpets. Up for the chop are Alex, Sandeesh and the brains behind the telly ad Chris Softbollocks.
Under fire from all sides Alex splutters 'in my dayjob...' - stop right there. You're unemployed. In your 'dayjob' you struggle to find spankwire vids that you don't know off by heart.
Just a point here - does Chris wear coloured contact lenses? His eyes are a weird blue. He looks a bit like the dragon off Ivor the Engine. 
Sandeesh gets a pass so it's down to Chris and Alex and fuck me it could be either of them but of the two Alex is a splutter and useless - he knows he fucked up and the bullet's coming. First thing he's got right all day - at least he wished the other berk good luck.

Best bit: 'Tramp on chips'

Episode 5-fear-and-loathing in M17

Hats off to... BBC 5 Live football

'And here's the team news from Anfield...'

There are some things the BBC just does better than anyone else. Sports commentary is one of them - I have my radio alarm on 5 Live and during their coverage of golf's Open there's something magical in being woken by whispering and a smattering of applause. But today the hat tips for football on Five.
Ignore the phone-ins and the blather that surrounds the matches, it's the commentary that stands Five out on its own, in a way the horrendous talkSPORT (even their logo has shouting in it) could never grasp. Five commentary is Marks and Sparks extra fancy sarnies and trifle to TalkShite's ham-cob-for-a-nicker from the Esso.
Five have made listening to a match that doesn't involve your own team enjoyable. In fact it's probably better when it isn't your team, such is the conversational manner. There are fairly long periods when they don't mention what's happening on the pitch in any great detail, which can be annoying if you're curious as to how your lot are actually playing.
It's like having people just chatting away in your house - it seems effortless and they've been doing it for years. Top of the lot for me is John Murray - you can hear him smile while he's talking. He has the sort of voice you'd believe if it was telling you everything would be cool even though the oxygen masks have dropped and both wings are on fire.
I'd say one of their worst commentators is actually the chief football correspondent Mike Ingham, who is a great reporter but goes to pieces whenever the ball goes in the box. He starts spluttering in confusion like a minor royal who's been brought the fish when he specifically asked for the chicken and yes Marjorie that's all very well but they shouldn't be working in this country if they can't understand simple instructions. But generally they're all good and the two commentators, one pundit system works really well (wonder if that'll be recession crunched?) And they've got some cracking pundits at the moment. Steve Claridge might occasionally seem like an over excited dog whose owners have left him at home alone all day, but he offers real insight into the game. And he watches the action closely.
Similarly Robbie Savage isn't everyone's cuppa as a player but he really does call it straight. And I like the way when he criticises a player from, say Manchester United or Liverpool, he prefaces it with: 'I was never good enough to play for this cub but...' and then gives them absolute pelters.
Of course there are always exceptions, such as the loathsome Alan Green - seriously chuckles, if you don't like it get another job, your people skills would doubtless be cherished by any number of major companies. And if Five are thinking of binning him off then they could do worse than get Phil Parry from BBC London, who is surely not long for local radio.
Then of course there's what I call the peerless Jimmy Armfield, who adds insight and enthusiasm in a wonderful cup-of-tea-and-a-couple-of-Hobnobs voice. Listening to Armfield is a treat, although my favourite story of his media career didn't come on air. It's the '43 actually' one which, according to an inrterview Armfield gave with FourFourTwo magazine, came during a Ron Atkinson Manchester United press conference, not a spat with then-Sunlan' manager Howard Wilkinson as is usually reported.
 'Ron was miffed about something and said to the press pack: "What do you know about the game, what have you all done?"
'I said: "Between us we've won 43 caps, made over 600 appearances and played in two World Cups."
He just smiled and said: "Touche".'

Three radio commentating greats (football):
Bryon Butler
Clive Tyldesley (Radio City, late 70s to mid 80s - he was brilliant)
Peter Jones

Apprentice episode 5 - fear and loathing in M17

Get knotted

And they're off to Manchester's horrendous Trafford Centre to flog fashion clobber to the serfs of the frozen north. Over to Tim Howard lookalike Jamie who declares 'every time I go up there it's like it's two years behind London.' OOF! Take that Les Battersby! To be fair though, he's right about having to wear shoes in clubs. I imagine.
That Australian bird - Paloma - is in charge of one team, "Dambusters," or something. She'd get a cuddle off me but man she's annoying. She talks like her teeth are badly fitted and she never has a good word to say about anyone.
Her team do the business though - one woman bought a dress made out of old ties for £300! THREE HUNDRED. And it just looked like it was made out of old ties. From demob suits.
The other team, "Belligerent," is led by the equally foxy Liz, who's dressed up like a Quality Street that's been left too near the radiator. No sod buys anything off them, not even when they start waving clothes at passers-by while shouting at them like they're auditioning for Shameless.
Is it just me or are the tasks in this series getting less screen time than the culling? Anyway in the boardroom Liz declares she reckoned the spangly dresses would go down with the northern folk, cos they're so fucking simple. I'm paraphrasing. Incredibly her team wins and they all go off to the racing.
But who cares? Paloma's lot are back in the boardroom after a period of contemplation and instant coffee at that Brentwood transport cafe and you just know her and Alex, who says he reckons Paloma will be fired today, are going to be at it from the off.
Following the brief pre-wank of the rejection process it's no surprise that those two and Sandeesh are back in the boardroom. All three are useless but at least Alex stuck his neck out and made a couple of decisions on this one. Meanwhile Nick declares Alex is 'not totally irritating'. Put that on your CV, lad!
As for Sandeesh, she looks like her butt plug's got stuck but she still seems like good people and shouldn't really be in there as she did pretty well.
As it becomes clear that Paloma's in the firing line she looks like she's going to cry and lashes out at the other two. Make her cry, Alan! Make her cry!
'You've talked yourself out of this,' followed by that lordly finger is all it takes. And with that, she's gone! The villagers need fear no more!
Incidentally, Karen Brady's a good looking woman but lately on this she's been looking a bit off. Maybe it's the styling but she looks like a transexual whose final cheque bounced. Sort it, West Ham.

Best bit:
Alex, to two scalls: 'Do you like this jumper?'
Scalls: 'Not really.'

Some ace things about Danny Baker, who's currently poorly

The master

No one ever says 'oh, he's alright,' about him
He apparently paid for his house in cash
Baker and Kelly upfront (and all versions thereof, including book and Times columns)
Morning edition
Joanne
He brings his own records in
He brings his own sound effects in
When he's off no one can really do the show justice
Referring to - say - a chicken pie as 'a fine CP'
Kicking off with that British Rail bloke
Urging supporters to give that ref down the banks after a Chelsea cup tie
'Let the children have their music'
On toilets at football grounds - 'can't you hold it in?'
'Get me my old producer'
Getting Dan Castellanetta on the old Radio 1 show and no sod calling in!
When he had Nick Mason on BBC London, getting every caller to say 'thanks, man'
Match of the 80s
The original 6-0-6 - hang your heads in shame, Mellor, Littlejohn, 'Spoony', Green et al
Before the Iran USA World Cup 98 game (which he was attending) saying he was going to sit 'with the maddest of their mullahs wearing a huge stars and stripes hat' just to see what happened
His radio shows are miles better than anything you can get on telly, including in football terms, actual matches
My mrs (who's from not far from him) can't understand a word he says

Effing genius