"I'M A D-LISTER, GET ME OUT OF HERE!'

It happens every year around Christmas; much like the allocating of a secret Santa and realising that the person you have chosen is the only person you do not know, or the inevitable struggle to balance the star on top of the tree.  It’s also similar to these events in the sense that we try desperately hard to avoid them every single year, relentlessly vowing ‘I’m never doing that again!’, but somehow we always end up getting sucked into the whirlwind of the optimistic Christmas spirit and naively hope ‘this year it will be different’. Of course, I’m talking about ‘I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here!’ (to those lucky ones who managed to break away from the wrath of Ant and Dec’s tedious jokes, you heard right; yes, it’s still on). Every year, we promise ourselves that evenings will be spent playing endless games of scrabble, singing round a piano and getting on top of the vast work load. But every year, the same idiot in our friendship group mentions the gossip of the jungle, and with a deep sigh, our promise of a bush tucker trial-free Christmas is quickly recomposed to the tune of ‘one episode won’t hurt’. Next thing you know, the festivities are amongst us; mince pies are on sale in Morrison’s, Santa is making his rounds to the school fetes and church fundraisers, yet the only concern in your life is the fact that the campers only have two out of eight stars so they only get half of a kangaroo’s foot to share for dinner.

Annually, whilst pretending to be doing something worthwhile online, we stumble across the ‘LEAKED I’M A CELEBRITY LINE UP’ article on ‘Yahoo! News’ . Pfft… ‘news’! With great disappointment, we realise that the producers are, once again, scraping the celebrity barrel. Clearly actual stars have more sense than these ‘wannabies’.

So what do you need for the generic ‘I’m A Celebrity’ group? Firstly it goes without saying that you need a heart-throb. A male heart-throb. One of those people of whom the parents will roll their eyes, the teenage girls will swoon over, and the boys will write sarcastic Facebook statuses about, whilst the rest of us sit back and wonder ‘but who is he?’  

Next you need an airhead. She and The Heartthrob are likely to hook up after he sees her washing in the nearby stream. Needless to say the same image of her will be plastered over certain newspapers (*cough* ‘The Sun’) the following morning. Of course, this ‘admiration’ is definitely due to her outstanding personality, not the ill-fitting bikini she sports which bares more of a resemblance to a plastic ‘Tesco’ carrier bag which has split under the weight of two melons being carried in it. Whilst fathers in the living room pretend to be reading the newspaper but, rather blatantly, gawp at The Airhead in her swimwear, the female viewers among us all collectively wonder how she, and the rest of the I’m A Celebrity ‘stars’ have such blemish-free skin and  smooth legs and underarms when luxuries such as make up and shavers are banned. Funny, eh?

You then need a handful of soap stars and old has-been sports personalities to fuel the fights, tantrums and arguments that will, rather dramatically, split the camp. Of these, one of them will be old and won’t want to get involved much (don’t worry, they will be voted out rather quickly) and one will be an American actor who nobody recognises. I hate to ruin the surprise, but if there is an old member of a boyband, it is 80% probable that they are going to win. From the very first episode, we will be able to tell this and they will be the general ‘nice’ guy that everyone gets along with. The main rule is that if they have swooshy hair, a nice face and haven’t exchanged harsh words with anyone in the first four days, you have your winner.

To be honest, watching the promo for the upcoming episode of ‘I’m A Celeb’ will give you as much detail about the happenings in the jungle as watching the whole show would. Don’t fall into the trap of being hooked by ‘tonight’s drama’ as the gushing tears and cat fights are as much as you will see on the advert, the only difference is that the TV programme runs for at least 57 more minutes, during which time, at least three of the celebrities will be trending on twitter after a nasty scrap. 

The bush tucker trials are, without a doubt, the most exciting part of the show. We all gag at the eating trials, and admire the poor soul that is so desperate for an ounce of fame that they will sit and eat various anuses and testicles in front of millions of viewers who are all urging them to throw up . There is also the one celebrity who, every year, provides us with genuine belly laughs at their reaction to a couple of creepy crawlies. What could possibly go wrong? The show would be so much more interesting with a proper element of danger; perhaps the possibility of one of the campmates being killed by a savage kangaroo (or at least a little bit poisoned by a scuttling spider). How do the celebrities get so worked up by these trials? ITV would, much to our disappointment, never allow anything remotely risky on their channel anyway.

Admit it; it’s true. The Jungle antics are the same every year, the producers have ‘copy and pasted’ every aspect of the show for the past ten years, merely changing names and the tone of the classic swear-word ‘BLEEP’ because they think we won’t notice. We do notice, however, so why do we watch it? Why did we give in and watch it last year? And more importantly, why will we give in and watch it next year? I’m An Addict, how do I get out of here?

Does anyone actually know the words to Auld Lang Syne?!

People always point out that ‘New Year’s Eve is always underwhelming’, making out like they are saying some kind of shocking, controversial opinion. Whoever they are telling then proceeds to agree, thinking it is the spookiest coincidence in the world.

Haven’t people yet noticed that New Year’s Eve is, in fact, nothing at all but an excuse for a good party? I mean what are they expecting? The clock strikes midnight and all over the world calendars leaping in the air off their own accord and transforming into pages plastered in the new date? Historical figures rising from the dead to welcome in the new year? Our true love actually arriving at the party and giving us seven swimming swans? The reality is that, when the clocks strikes 12, and our countdown reaches its climax, it’s over. Christmas is over for another year and we are just left standing, staring at our phones and watches to check that the date has changed. "New Year’s Eve doesn’t interest me really, I’m more of a Christmas type of person" says everyone. Who are these people who prefer December 31^st to the 25^th (and do they know it’s Christmas time??) Everybody has an idea in their mind that they are missing some kind of New Year’s Eve twist; that they are on their own in thinking that night is over-rated but do you know what I think? I think Christmas is gone, another year is over (a new one just begun) and we just want a good old moan at anything we can set our sights on. The clocks strike 12, the crowd disbands, we go to bed and wake up grouchy the next morning. That's all that's gonna happen. Deal with it.

Do you agree with me? Post your NYE views below!

A school task - 'Write A Rant About Anything'

The first cinema was built in 1919 and people used to go in their fineries to watch and marvel at this unique exhibition. Oh how times have changed. Cinema etiquette has rapidly decreased.

Don’t get me started on the people 4 rows down who can not watch a 2 hour film without having to go to the loo- why can’t they go beforehand? Or what about the people behind me who resort to kicking the back of my seat throughout the entire duration. How about the group of girls sitting at the front who, admittedly have their phones on silent, but do not consider that whenever they check their messages, the glow on their phone lights up the 4 rows behind them and distracts the whole audience. Can’t they wait 2 hours without outside communication? Honestly. The cinema used to be an extremely fashionable and grand night out. Now it is nothing more than a play school for bad habits and utter rudeness and disrespect for fellow cinema goers.

I’ll start with the latecomers. The average cinema ticket is already overpriced at £8 for an adult ticket. If somebody is willing to pay that amount of money to watch a film, they could at least be on time for the start of it. I am sick of settling down to watch the movie, lights are off and everybody is silent in the anticipation of what the film will be like and then…*shuffle shuffle shuffle* Late. Not only do they whisper to their friends as they awkwardly try to find their seat amongst the already crowded cinema, they can never find their seat in the dark. This results in having to get an attendant with a torch to show them to their designated place. Annoyingly, the latecomer will almost certainly find their way to your row and you will have to let them past as they clumsily block your view, they mutter ‘sorry, sorry, excuse me, sorry, thanks, sorry’ as they edge themselves past each person in the row, distracting others further and creating more of a nuisance of themselves.

Next, we have sniffers. I would like to watch this film without the risk of being seriously infected by what most be the sickest person in the world. The women next to you spends the whole 2 hours of the film routinely sniffing in a fashion that distracts you from the happenings of the movie every time. After about 45 minutes of the film, you glare at her and she realises that she is being annoying. First, she blows her nose which grabs the attention of the whole theatre. However after about 5 minutes, the sniffing starts again. She realises her dilemma and resorts to even more annoying and frequent staccato sniffs. This frustrates me so much that I feel inclined to call a doctor or tell her to go home and rest until she is better. For everybody’s sake.

I do not for the life of me understand why cinemas sell popcorn and other such disgusting foods. The boy in front of me sits there with a jumbo sized box of salty popcorn, which probably cost him £5, almost the amount of a child’s ticket. Despite this high price, at the end of the movie, I peer over my row and see that he has left half of it on the floor. Throughout the film, I have seen him constantly flicking popcorn at his mate, dropping handfuls of it onto his lap as he tries to eat too much at one time and wriggling about in his seat so much that he spills his tub onto the sticky, greasy floor. Of course, the boy waltzes out at the end of the film, oblivious to the mess below his seat, and taking it for granted that somebody else will clear it up. Would he do that at home? Nope. May I also add, why did the family sat behind me choose to bring a family size pack of chocolate éclairs to munch their way through? I am sick of hearing the rustle, crackle and crunch of the noisy sweet wrappers throughout every piece of dialogue in the film. Back to the popcorn, to be honest, it is as much as the cinema’s fault as it is the audience’s fault; cinemas are already greedy with ticket prices which cost almost the amount of a DVD anyway. Yet they still think of other ways to rip us off. They sell cheap popcorn and impractical sweets which are distracting to everybody around its consumers. It would take the cleaners half the time it takes to clear a cinema, if they didn’t sell such ridiculous, messy food.

I also want to mention the incredibly selfish people who choose to occupy more than their allocated amount of seating by draping their coats and bags over them. If they want an extra seat to use as a coat hanger, they should pay for one! Not to mention the common obscurity of people resting their feet over the seat in front, that is just plain rude- nobody wants dirty, greasy shoes in their face as they snuggle down to watch the over priced film. It shouldn’t have to be mentioned- it is common decency that people should know to keep their feet on the floor! And not only that, why do people leave a gap in between each group whilst choosing where to sit? It means that, come the start of the movie, the last few people coming in dribs and drabs can not sit together.

If I owned a cinema, I would force all late-comers, toilet-goers, nose-sniffers, popcorn- throwers and seat-stealers to eat every single one of the smelly, greasy jumbo hotdogs in the cinema, and then single handedly mop up the floor with a toothbrush until the floor is clean enough to project a film onto. 

Six Flags disappointment

We went to this theme park on our Summer holiday this year, expecting it to be one of the highlights. Having dropped it into a conversation with a few of my friends, I got a few exclamations from them telling me that it was the 'best theme park in the world' and was the basis of the game 'Rollercoaster typhoon'. As you can imagine, I was pretty excited and my expectations were high.

I'll hand it to the park, the rollercoasters were INCREDIBLE...the best in the world. The ride 'X2' was amazing, and I would have loved to go on it again - it was not only well designed but thrilling as well, and as you can imagine from a massive American theme park, it pulled out all of the stops in terms of 'Fear Factor'!

Now for the downside... prepare yourself- full on rant coming up!

At almost $50 a ticket, you expect to go on a lot of rides in a day. We were at the theme park from about 10.00 until about 4.00 and went on four rides. Four.

Why? Because the park is greedy. They let too many people in and didn't bother to warn us about the vast queues we would have to wait through. On our first ride, we waited 2 hours to get on. This was in the burning Californian heat in cramped conditions  with no shade and no water. After the first ride, we were already exhausted but pleased because the ride, X2 was brilliant, so we persevered and queued for a second ride. This was another rollercoaster that we waited about and hour and a half for and was disappointing. We then queued 30 minutes for another ride which literally took about a minute from buckling up to getting off. By this time, we were struggling to find reasons to stay at the park.

We went to find somewhere to sit and have a drink however unfortunately, everybody else had the same idea and we ended up paying $15 and queuing for 45 minutes to get a refillable cup, and then queuing for another 45 minutes to fill it up. Within 45 seconds it was devoured. Why didn't you save your money and use a water fountain you wonder? The few water fountains that actually worked had 20 minute queues in the exposed sun, the same with every toilet facility. We found that it wasn't just us struggling with this busy, over populated park, everybody was.

With little tolerance left, we got into a short looking queue for a water ride. It had no indication of how long it would take but we reluctantly guessed we would be waiting for about half an hour. An hour later we were still in the queue. Completely cramped and unable to move, not only because of the heat and our severe exhaustion, but because hundreds of people were surrounding us. As we waited, people around us started to get agitated - by this time, my parents had gone to the information desk and there were 4 of our group (all teenagers) left in the queue. Okay, understatement...people were shouting and swearing at the attendants, almost causing a riot! Every time a carriage for the next lot of people came, the fast track queue would be moved onto it and the rest of the queue would remain stationary. ...theoretically stationary -a lot of people behind us were giving a lot of abuse to these 'fast track arseholes who thought they were better than us'. After another hour, we finally got on the ride. The ride was terrible. We were so tired and in such a bad mood by this time that we could not be bothered to enjoy the 3 minute up-the-rail-and-underwhelming-drop ride.

After the ride, we were all extremely fed up and the 4 of us went to find our parents. They were making a complaint at the information desk, of which we never received any feedback or compensation. We had waited so long in the final queue that we missed our plans for the evening and were late home. I know I sound like a bratty teenager saying all of this, but it is the truth. In fact, as my parents were queuing at the information desk, they spoke to another unhappy customer who was disabled. Apparently they had been sold the ticket for the park, told they would be allowed on the ride and queued up (having an hour long wait) for a ride, only to be told that their disability meant they could not go on the ride. What's more, the attendants then failed to tell them that this would be the case for every other ride.

The park is greedy and overpriced, only caring about visitors and profit, not the welfare of their guests. If you ever plan to go to Six Flags, I thoroughly recommend saving your money.