You make it to the office and find that a bad day is getting worse- your meeting has been brought forward, and you go straight in to make a non-existant pitch. With the confident facade beginning to crack, you attempt to marshall your thoughts and hope for the best as you arrange your papers. You can detect at least 3 different bodily fluids on the page, but are more concerned by the fact you’ve either gone blind, or you’ve got a sheet of illegible scrawl. All you can make out are the lines:

“Most Haunted, but so men will watch too”
and
“Daphne, you little tease”

Hazy memories begin to seep into your mind- the taste of a worm at the bottom of a now-empty bottle of Mezcal, performing headstands while watching Cartoon Network… and it hits you like an electric shock. With new found confidence, shoulders back and chest out, you begin your pitch (secretly believing you’re invincible)

“Imagine an episode of Scooby Doo, but without the scruffy hippy, his dog, or that smug blonde prat. Combine it with Most Haunted, and we have greatness in the making!”

At least that’s the only way I can imagine someone coming up with the idea for “Hot Girls in Scary Places”. The title says it all really… or rather it outlines what the plan was. The reality is that the contestants may have the IQ of a squirrel, but that’s where the comparison with glamour models ends. As for the “Scary Places”, well they are just big buildings that are no longer in use so it’s like being the last one in work after your colleagues are in the pub.

So in this week’s thrilling and terrifying episode (thrilling as it gave me something to write about, terrifying because I’m one hour closer to death), 3 cheerleaders armed with torches, blankets, and teddy bears, are taken to an abandoned mental asylum. How do we know it’s a mental asylum? Well the big neon sign outside says so. Their mission: survive 3 deadly and terrifying encounters with the supernatural in order to receive 3 numbers, which form the combination for a safe that contains $10,000 cash.

These tasks by the way are given by some bloke on a TV monitor, who has a face like a melted pig. No make-up or anything, the guy just looks like crap. Anyway, he is the only genuinely creepy aspect of the show because he’s like a weird uncle who REALLY has been looking forward to spending time with kids. There’s something quite unsavoury about a television screen asking 3 college students to do a cheer for him… like Max Headroom at a lapdancing club.

Anyway, task one requires Wannabe Number 1 to go to “the examination room” (Cue Uncle Furtive to drool a little), while the second and third little pigs stay in their slumber-party mode and talk about how scary it all is. Apparently, 70 years ago cruel and unusual experiments were performed on the mentals in the asylum. Now the ghosts of these patients are able to communicate through a “Connector”. Now I’m not going to embarass you ignorant fools who don’t know what a “Connector” is. You know who you are, and frankly I expect some background reading from you so step it up Mr or you’ll be out of here faster than shit from a goose.

A “Connector” converts EVPs (Electronic Voice Phenomena), so we can hear the voices of the retarded-departed. Let’s ignore the fact that if this thing worked as it’s supposed to, we’d probably have heard about first it on the news, or any channel that isn’t E! The words of wisdom from this device (which definitely is communicating with the dead, and not just a walkie-talkie) are limited to “Danger”, before we cut to the other 2 discussing the colour of paint in the “safe room”. Unfortunately, the effect is as if the robot from Lost in Space has just seen a stray dog running down the street and wants everyone to be scared! In any event, the task actually turns out to have nothing to do with the robotic voice, but actually requires the bimbo to pull different levers until a scrap of paper drops out with the numbers on it. Spooky!

So back to sanctuary, for something to add credibility to this farce. That’s right, time for a medium to come in and explain what the spirits are revealing about the 3 muskahounds. I won’t bore you with the details, especially as I could predict them from seeing the short clips of them just chatting amongst themselves. Perhaps I’m psychic… perhaps the medium is talking toss. You decide.

The third task was to experience the presence of a spectral doctor (I swear I’m not making this up), by wearing some sort of helmet. One of the other bints was there taking notes to chronocle the experience. There was nothing at all more than general suggestions of feeling cold and scared, before Dr Evil appeared on a TV and gave them a task of finding a scrap of paper with another digit on it, that was hidden in some cold porridge.

It would be cruel of me to spoil the suspense of whether or not the trio did survive the night, and whether they got their money-shot. What I will say is that it was like watching an episode of Pat Sharpe’s Funhouse, with poorer production values, and Derek Acorah’s less convincing auntie. Whoever thought of it must have had a fetish for Daphne from Scooby Doo buried in their subconscious.

Could have been worse though. It could have been Velma.

“Oi, you… yes, the bloke trying to dress like the Joker and in dire need of a shave. Yes, you… put those pissing pop-tarts down and listen. The Hills is on tonight. Seriously, if you like self-inflicted pain, you have to watch it. Sober.”

The scales fell from my eyes, and I felt envigorated by the revelation before me. Partly it was the confirmation that improbable-God speaks with a subtle Mancunian accent, combined with the fact that during this time, the afore-mentioned pop-tart had cooled down and I had been saved from third-degree tongue burns. Then the realisation dawned on me what lay before me.

And so, I am prepared. I have coffee, and have put the remote on the other side of the room so I can’t succumb to temptation and change the channel.

It begins:

Oh come on… there’s an hour of this??? A double bill? My God, why have you forsaken me?

Right, a nice little summary of the story so far… not that it is a story. These are real people you know. They just don’t have real personalities, jobs, or breasts.

So, excellent production values and it looks like someone’s used an Imax camera to film their mates sitting around talking about their weekends. This stuff is tedious on a bleeding camcorder, so why does a clear picture make a difference?

Heidi has been tasked to do something… organise a party I think. Now we cut to 2 girls discussing one of their friends moving into her own place. And then a bit of music, footage of skylines and landscapes.

[What the fuck is going on??? How is this entertainment?]

Now Audrina is in a bar/restaurant/film set talking to some herbert in a baseball cap. She’s just asked him to move in with her, and then we cut to commercial.

7 minutes. 420 seconds. and now we’re watching adverts. Can someone please explain to me how this is different to sitting in a pub and listening in to other punters’ conversations? At least there you’d hear more than 4 sentences before you are forced to eavesdrop on some other blabbering trollop.There is more character shown by Pablo the drugs mule dog than by any one of these “people”!

AAAANNND we’re back. Audrina’s showing her sister (face of a man, tattoos of 17 men) round her house. She must be a frigging drug dealer or very high-class prostitute to afford this! Oh goodo, more meaningful pauses in conversation before another music/landscape interlude.

Time for a re-structure of my approach for this blog. With such a disjointed programme, there’s nothing to analyse or critique in any meaningful way. I mean I’m watching 2 dolled up bints packing ornaments into boxes… all with full makeup, jewellery, and studio-quality lighting. The level of dialogue is like something out of a badly written porn film, but instead of getting it on they have pauses in conversation and try to remember their own names.

In that whole episode, the only thing that actually happened was Heidi getting fired for being pissed at a party she was professionally organising, and for having her boyfriend there. So how did she react when summarily dismissed from employment… you guessed it, she fell silent walked out and got her bag.

The only option left is to take the people (I can’t describe them as either characters or personalities, without some evidence of either) individually, and try and sum them up to remove the need for you to sit through this turgid goldfish bowl of arse.

Ok so first let’s deal with Audrina. Brunette, seems to be seeing some rugged looking bloke (i.e. he wears a vest and baseball cap in restaurants, and doesn’t shave) for about 5 minutes before asking him to move into her new place with her. No idea about what job she does, so I’m sticking with the dealer/hooker guess from above.

2 girls with dark blonde hair. No idea what their names are. They work in the fashion industry, and seem to be mates with Audrina. Maybe they pimp her out. Probably not. That’s it… can’t work out anything more about them.

Heidi… now unemployed, and not overly emotional about losing her supposed dream job of 3 years. who’d have thought that getting trolleyed and inviting your boyfriend (Spencer… see below) to a party your boss had been paid presumably thousands of dollars to organise could have a negative effect on your job security. Live and learn chuckles!

Last and by every means least, we have Spencer Pratt. That’s right… that really is his name. Seems to be the only regular (by which I mean he’s on screen often, not that he’s normal) man (I think) in the cast. He seems to be under the impression that he has significance or influence. He has the personality of a belch, approximately half the charisma of a Ken doll.

Sorry… that should have been this photo. What a mistake to make.

Words just escape me. I am genuinely struggling to understand how this has lasted so long on TV, particularly without some crazed stalker gutting one of these bimbos and wearing them as a hat, a la Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs. It’s as if some unforseen hand is flicking between high-definition CCTV cameras, cutting between random bystanders having coffee and sampling conversations. The only rule is that the channel must change just before any of these dialogues reaches it’s conclusion, or justifies the carbon dioxide spewed out during it.

Will I be tuning in again? I don’t even believe I have ever tuned IN yet!