Geordie Shore returned to our screens last night. It's insane and utterly compelling...
As a resident of Sunderland, it’s easy to haul the piss out of my nearby Newcastle neighbours – after all, there’s so much to work with. There’s their deluded belief in their self-styled ‘Geordie Nation’, the recurring failure of their football team (mainly as a result of it being ran by morons) and that stupid way they talk.
Now the rest of the world can see them at their worst thanks to MTV’s Geordie Shore. If you missed it, a bunch of preening, shit-thick, interchangeable idiots have been scooped up and dumped in a luxury house somewhere near the centre of ‘The Toon’. The house itself has an indoor phone box, something which could take the gang WEEKS to get their heads around. The cameras retreat to a safe place and record the resulting carnage. As Twitter user @_Jock said, they’re “doing for Newcastle what Borat did Kazakhstan.”
The casting policy makes Big Brother look like a carefully planned and detailed study in human behaviour. There’s no blend of diverse types here, just lads (musclebound gobshites) and lasses (permatanned gobshites). They’re all seemingly dying to fuck the living daylights out of each other, and it might well be the fact that the last one to test positively for Chlamydia is the winner.
Stand-out lad was Jay, who proudly boasted that “My full time occupation is smashing birds”, something that should surely have set the alarm bells ringing at the headquarters of the RSPB – unless I’m completely missing the point.
Upon finding a secret bedroom on the top floor, Jay and one of the other knobheads conspired to keep it a secret from their fellow housemates. That’s right people – they were aiming to keep a big room at the top of some stairs a secret. Actually, with the level of intelligence on display here, I fancied their chances of pulling off this cunning deception.
Stand-out lad was Jay, who proudly boasted that “My full time occupation is smashing birds”, something that should surely have set the alarm bells ringing at the headquarters of the RSPB.
When they’re weren’t brazenly discussing which of the lasses they were going to bang later on and in which order, Jay and the rest of the lads were happily taking the piss out of Greg, the outsider of the flock. Greg’s the sensitive one, which means he’s only into getting pissed in the evenings and prefers to play on his Xbox instead of flexing his muscles in a mirror or jumping around like a ADHD-riddled chimp all the fucking time.
Greg soon realised that he didn’t fit in with the rest of the iron-pumping penis-heads and felt isolated. But during a lunch date with the oddly-mannish Vicky, he decided he was ready to try and integrate more with the crowd, proudly announcing that “I’m gonna get a tan!”
As for the girls, it’s tricky to tell them apart – although they’ve all got different-sized knockers, which could be vital for the boys when they’re trying to figure out which one they’re hoping to hump next.
The best of the bunch was Holly, who hails from Middlesbrough and therefore isn’t even a proper Geordie. She’s also got a boyfriend, but claims that he’s happy for her to pretty much do whatever she wants while she’s away from him and on her big fat Geordie odyssey. She demonstrated this ‘open relationship’ policy on day one by getting her bangers out in the hot tub and having a wriggle under the duvet with Gary.
In the second half of the opening episode, the Geordies’ lives were tipped upside down when a slightly older blonde lady appeared from nowhere. From the looks on their faces, the lads all wanted to bang her. while the lasses were confused because her hair was a different colour to theirs.
With only seconds to spare before some kind of assault took place, the mysterious woman announced that she was now their boss and that the Geordies would be working for her promotions company. What’s that? Working? In the outside world? What kind of hell was this turning into for our heroes and heroines?
In truth, the work wasn’t too taxing for them and involved groping passers-by and trying to persuade them to visit a local ‘nitespot’ or get in a limousine and chuck champagne around for no apparent reason. It also gave the blokes an opportunity to lure more lasses back to the house and its outdoor hot tub, creating what one of the Shore lasses jealously but spectacularly described as ‘whore soup’.
A subsequent night out ended in a predictable punch-up and the blueprint has already been laid out for the rest of the series. It’s hard to see how any of them are going to embark on a life-altering ‘journey’ although you can almost visibly see Greg’s IQ tumbling already as he aims to integrate with the rest of the lads.
My money’s on Vicky to rule the roost, gradually picking out each house member one by one and emotionally dominating them. After all, she used the word ‘predominantly’ in the opening show, pronounced correctly, in context and everything. She’s like Stephen Hawking in a house filled with The Flumps.
Geordie Shore jaw-dropping but compelling telly, the ultimate freak show. In truth, these people shouldn’t be made to live without adult supervision – it’s almost cruelty. I’m praying for the introduction of some kind of leader figure into the house to provide some kind of guidance. Maybe a Geordie Jim Jones, armed with some big talk about a Bigg Market in the sky and some bottles of blue WKD laced with plant food?
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