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January 29 Fancy being Paris Hilton's British 'best friend'? If so, you need the following: bad hair, bad skin, bad teeth, bad extensions, bad dye-jobs and bad clothes. If you've caught the promo trailers, you'll know that I'm referring to ITV2's new reality show starring the American It Girl. In Paris Hilton's British Best Friend, the heiress jets into the UK with one mission: to find herself a bestest buddy from Blighty. Rule Britannia! I caught a preview of the first episode at the paparazzi-swarmed press launch held in a classy central London hotel. Oh, the irony! If the venue had reflected the programme's tone and content, we'd have all been invited to Faliraki to hang out with the only chavs not on the show.  The 12 contestants (11 women and one man - and before you ask, yes, he's gay) are a reality TV sub-species unlike any other; so shallow and fame-hungry that Big Brother producers would probably reject them for being too desperate. Each week, the house-sharing wannabes are set tasks and challenges and two of the hopefuls are then up for elimination. When Paris decides who is going to be sent home, she diss-misses (intentional misspelling) them with something like the following: "[insert contestant's name], I'm afraid you're not going to be my British Best Friend. Talk To You Never. TTYN." Said hopeful collapses from grief at the realisation that their passport to (albeit short-lived) fame is over…until X Factor auditions roll around again, that is. To say the premise borrows heavily from America's Next Top Model, Tyra Banks' reality hit, is putting it lightly. I half expected her runway coach Miss J to show up and teach the hopefuls how to get out of a limo with their - to quote Jade Goody - "kebabs" fully exposed in true z-list style. The contestants are all we've come to expect with this genre, but why  Paris Hilton's signed on is the real mystery. She clearly doesn't need the money; she's papped as a matter of course so she doesn't need the profile either and nobody in their right mind will seriously believe that her only way of finding new friends is via a reality show.
Still, I'm not complaining. Not when we're treated to frank assessments of her world ("My best friends are my sister and Nicole. The other girls in LA are just...sluts.") or given a candid insight into her LA life - she's got her own nightclub...upstairs in her mansion! Her pets live in a doggy palace and her designer label-clothes are stuffed into closets bigger than yer average department store. Despite the overwhelming feeling of déjà vu, Paris Hilton's British Best Friend is essential viewing; tacky, vulgar and gaudy, it's so bad, it's good.
Paris Hilton's British Best Friend, ITV2, Thursdays at 9pm
Today I am mostly lovin' - Remember the days when ITV churned out brilliant, unforgettable drama? Well, as part of ITV4's Cult Classic strand, you will find a welcome re-run (in its entirety!) of Auf Wiedersehen Pet. First broadcast in 1983, it was an unlikely comedy hit about a group of British labourers forced to work in Germany during a recession in Thatcher's era. Scripted by Porridge's Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais, its main players include: Tim Healy (as Dennis), Kevin Whately (Neville), Jimmy Nail (Oz), Timothy Spall (Barry), the late Pat Roach (Bomber) and the late Gary Holton (Wayne). Superlative, comedy drama that remains the very best of British.
Today I am mostly hatin' - I'm a huge fan of Beverly Hills 90210 (I have every episode on tape) so I tuned into E-Friends' new 90210. The young girls on that show are all soooo skinny, they make Keira Knightley look like Dawn French in comparison. I watched the old series' pilot episode again; Jennie Garth and Shannen Doherty were slim (especially the former) and healthy. A much better image to send out to impressionable young girls.
MSN Editor Coops
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January 18
I have watched a great deal of TV over the years; I've viewed the good (Brideshead Revisited, The Sweeney, Boys From The Blackstuff, Cheers, the 'Up' documentaries - 7 Up, 14 Up, 21 Up etc); I have dissed the bad (Jeremy Kyle, Trisha, Celebrity Wrestling, Babes In The Wood etc); I have shuddered at the ugly (Alastair Burnet's Royal Interviews, The Girlie Show, The Black And White Minstrel Show, Minipops).
I have prided myself on my impenetrability. I haven't so much as blinked as bodies were cut to pieces in The Sopranos. I laugh at profane (but hilarious) language and scenarios in comedy routines from the likes of Bill Hicks, Richard Pryor and Chris Rock. I even absorbed the sight of Keith 'Cheggers' Chegwin's doughy starkers body on Channel 5's Naked Jungle without puking.
But ladies and gentlemen, I am finally defeated. To the extent that I am considering therapy: "Hello. My name is MSN Editor Coops and I am getting all Daily Mail over an item on TV..." This thing actually repulses me. It makes me physically recoil in horror. And what is it? What's proved to be my Kryptonite? It's an advert featuring a child wanting to go to the loo. Except this child doesn't say what my mother taught me at that age.
 In my formative years, it was drilled into me that I wanted to go 'to the toilet please'. But not this sprog. In the advert for Glade Touch n Fresh, the kid wants to do, and I quote, "a poo". But he doesn't want to do said poo at his house because his stupid thicko of a mother didn't buy a Glade Touch n Fresh for their loo. So he wants to do his poo at his friend Paul's house because they've got that Glade thing. And to think that when I was a kid, I wanted to go to my mate's house because they had a VCR.
I honestly thought Glade ads couldn't get any worse than the "it's all gorrrrrrrrrn! It's all gorrrrrrrrrn!" commercials. But that's practically Shakespearean in tone compared to this latest one. Feel free to disagree with me, but the word 'poo' in an advert is just plain wrong. I don't care if it's uttered by a child or an adult - it's just not cricket! Especially when the commercial airs at mealtimes. In my opinion, there is a definite (and misplaced) case of: 'kids say the darndest things' [deliberate use of Americanism] going on here. That's the only logical explanation for "it's all gorrrrrrrrrn! It's all gorrrrrrrrrn!" and "I want to do a poo". If the law of diminishing returns is applied, the next advert will probably feature a kid saying: "Ewwwwwww, mum! My diarrhoea is all yellow and stinky and it's running down my leg and it's on the floor!"
Who-the-hell is creating these Glade ads anyway? Medieval torturers used The Rack, metal pincers to rip pieces of flesh from victims, The strappado to dislocate bones, the head crusher, the garrotte, flagellation, the wheel, flaying et al. Noughties torturers just make Glade adverts.
Watch the Glade Touch n Fresh 'poo' advert here
Today I am mostly lovin' - Season two of the fab The Big Bang Theory is on Channel 4 from Tuesday at 11.05pm. It revolves around geeky physicists who are also complete and utter social misfits. Watch out for Jim Parsons as the hilarious Sheldon in a show that's big on popular culture references and big on laughs. If you missed the E4 run, now's your chance to catch up.
Today I am mostly hatin' - Caught ten minutes of American Idol. Why do these type of shows persist in putting people of questionable mental state in front of a judging panel so that they can be belittled for a TV audience's amusement? I'm not talking about the arrogant, deluded ones - they'll be OK thanks to their egos. However, I'm uncomfortable seeing hopefuls who are clearly mentally fragile. It is not clever. It is also not funny. It is downright cruel.
MSN Editor Coops
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January 12
The adage goes, 'he who laughs last, laughs longest'. Over the years, I have howled at Dick Van Dyke's excruciating attempt at a Cockney accent in Mary Poppins. No list of the worst movie accents ever is complete without it. "'Ello Me-ary Poppinz, 'ow arrr yow?" Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, it was not. After such an insult, it's a wonder Anglo-US relations weren't set back a hundred years.
 Fast forward to today, and any Americans who've caught ITV1's new drama Demons must be bustin' a gut laughing at us thanks to Philip Glenister (Life on Mars, Ashes to Ashes). Demons, the fantastical series bearing more than a slight resemblance to Buffy The Vampire Slayer, is a contemporary spin on the legacy of Bram Stoker's Dracula set in modern-day London. Philip Glenister plays Rupert Galvin, a larger-than-life American. He tells his teenage godson Luke (Christian Cooke) that he is the last descendent of the Van Helsing line. In short, he must assume his destiny and destroy the 'half-lives' (demons, vampires, zombies) stalking the streets. I don't know about you, but I am still mopping up the blood after subjecting my delicate eardrums to Philip Glenister's inflection bastardisation. Have a listen here.
Firstly, the crucial acknowledgement: there is no such thing as an 'American' accent. In the same way that there is no such thing as an 'English' accent or an 'Irish' accent. We all know that there are regional variations within the geographical umbrella - Scouse, Brummie, Cornish etc. However, I haven't got a bloody clue which part of America Demons' Rupert Galvin is supposed to be from. Hugh Laurie's House? North-east of America I'd say. Dominic West who played Jimmy McNulty in The Wire? Born and raised in Sheffield, I'm told that his Baltimore accent is spot on. But Philip Glenister? Stick a pin on a map. That's as good a method of determination as any.
 I can't speak for anyone else, but after the first episode, I resolved to watch no more. I just can't take that accent. Perhaps there are like-minded people out there as early figures suggest Demons lost almost a million viewers. It made an encouraging start last week with 5.75m watching, but the second episode averaged 4.83m. Not good.
On the subject of his character, Philip Glenister said: "I was quite nervous about the American accent at first. I came straight off the back of Ashes to Ashes, but thought from the off that Galvin would be a nice removal from playing Gene. I did have a voice coach. A very nice lady called Judith who was very expressive with her language. She was on set for the first week and after that I was OK. I've swapped 'Huntisms' for Americanisms." Or so he thinks.
Now I ask ya, would it really have been so bad if Rupert Galvin had been English rather than American? Wouldn't you prefer not to cringe as Philip Glenister attempts to sound like he's from the other side of the Atlantic? Can't you just see him going up to some zombie and saying: "You great, soft, sissy, girlie, nancy, bender, half-life! Get smited gobsh*te!"
Today I am mostly lovin' - I am absolutely cracking up laughing watching Celebrity Big Brother. There isn't anything major going on - no 'race row', no 'Prestelle' romance, no madness of Michael Barrymore - but it's ticking along nicely all the same.
Today I am mostly hatin' - I tuned into the Golden Globe highlights on Sky1 at 8pm. I'd barely reached for my cup of coffee when the first set of adverts popped up at 8.05pm. I turned over in disgust. What's the reason for this, pray tell? It wasn't a live broadcast, where UK channels are often at the mercy of US commercial ad slots. If I want to watch TV in America, I'll fly there, thank you very much Sky1.
In addition, I think we have just reached a nadir as far as TV adverts are concerned. Tonight, during Corrie, I caught an advert with a child repeatedly saying that he wanted to do a poo and that he wanted to do this poo at his friend Paul's house because they've got some kind of air freshener thingie. If I hadn't heard and seen it for myself, I would never have believed it.
MSN Editor Coops
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