Series 10 - Week 3

Baaaaaa baaaaa Jerry Hall (that’s ‘bye bye’ in Texan BTW – and I should know, I watch Dallas). You weren't a great dancer, our Jezza, but you did the unthinkable – you made Anton palatable, and for that, you will go down in Strictly mythology.   Aside from such an early exit, this series has clearly been all of Anton's Christmasses – his love was such that he was even prepared to don an ill-fitting synthetic blazer and Dustin Hoffman wig (possibly his own hair, just bouffed) in exchange for getting to dance-mount her MrsRobinson, albeit behind a screen.

I'm sad to see Jerry leave so early on– her drawl, her dresses, her demeanour, all of that was of far more interest to me than whatever, say, Fern or Victoria are going to do next week.  And, *whisper it*, perhaps I might even miss Tony Beak a little (A LITTLE); somehow he doesn't seem quite so awful when he's paired with someone spunky but not utterly mad. Of course that could just be because, compared to Bruce, anyone would come out seeming a TOTAL HOOT. 

Ah well – sorry to Laura who has lost her £1, but may I take this opportunity to publicly thank you for not throwing a colossal hissy fit when the draw happened and you got Anton.  I can't say I would have behaved in the same socially-acceptable manner.

I also think I've worked out why Jesus loves Mrs Robinson more than she will know – he saw that slinky red quickstep dress swishing around on a statuesque blonde and thought HELLO.  Take note, Tess – now's the time to fight for Jerry's cast-offs.  Not that Saturday's silver effort was so bad – I quite liked it (first Anton, now TessDressYes –what is WRONG with me?), although it did have something of the wire scrubber about it.  Sunday's dressmess, however, I did not get on with – it looked like it was made out of several soft laptop cases, stitched into a peplum and sprayed gold, which *surely* can't be a real fashion thing?  Perhaps in tribute to Hollywood Week, Tess was going for 'Sexy C-3PO' – she certainly had the chesticles for it.

Oh Hollywood Week :-(  Why the themes, BBC?  We don't need the themes, so why do the themes?   (Halloween aside, for that gave birth to Aliona's Psycho Killer Tango, where her crazeballs choreography finally found its natural home.)   But seeing as we are stuck with the themes, I’d like to give a prize to dance-off winners, Nat and Michael, for the most random interpretation of their film choice (The Full Monty) and for selecting that scene where Michael/Begbie/Hamish McBeth/seriously-what-was-Robert-Carlyle's-character-in-the-film-called?!? strips before an audience of crazed women – but into sequinned cricket whites, rather than any montyness, whilst Natalie waits tables in a bra and puffball skirt.  (I can't say I remember that scene well, but it has been a while since I watched the film...) 

By the way, now Darcey's toned down the YAHS, if you're looking for another drink prompt, Natalie winking should get you pretty hammered.  She dance-winks all the time!  Perhaps it’s a technical malfunction.

Anyway, well done Michael for surviving another week – I’m still enjoying his infectious joie de danse and his continued failure to match his moves to the beats, though I'm not sure if I'd have picked Michael over Jerry, had I been sat at the judges' table... 

*dream sequence whilst Strictlycad imagines getting judge power and a points paddle* 

(I could TOTALLY do it – my dance experience is extensive: a) 1984-1994 – ballet, tap and modern at Bristol School of Dance; b) 1995-2006 – classicindie and Northern soul moves at The Thekla/Espionage (RIP); c) 2006-7 -drunken strutting at The Arts on Frith Street, led astray by a Labour MP whoshall remain nameless; d) now and since FOREVER - irrepressible danceballsamazeballs, in front of my bathroom mirror.) 

I actually found the dance-off a tough call this week, as both couples were likable, if iffy on the dance front.  I even questioned whether it was worth bringing back the dance-off – I see how it can serve a healthy purpose when there's a joke act (WIDDY) to get rid of, but this series doesn't have that type of character in.  Still, I suspect I'll be delighted when my sweepstakee Denise gets saved by the judges in due course, because if the Daily Mail comments (yes, I read them and, yes, I accept you will rightly judge me) are anything to go by, she is properly hated for already being able to dance and she really won't do well on the public vote.  It’s a shame really, as she continues to be great on the dance floor – her Toy Story foxtrot was delightful, in spite of James Jordan's terrifying fixed Woody grin.

I think perhaps I (Judge Strictlycad)would probably have preferred to see Fern in the D-O.  Not because her charleston was bad, orbecause she was the worst (she wasn't at all), but because it left me feeling indifferent – it was far too polite for a charleston and didn't involve any swimming, which is practically criminal. Also, those stripy jackets freak me out a little – not even Artem could bring out the barbershop hot. 

Though possibly, I'm just feeling anti-Fern as she just happened to be first up, and heralded the return of the excruciating 'comedy' V-Ts (for which I have a total love-hate).  I’ll admit I enjoyed Fern pulling a string of giant glitter love-balls out of her Poppins' carpet bag (I won't ask), but they totally missed a trick when recreating their Mary moments and should have firstly made Artem attempt his best stoned Russian Dick Van Dyke Cockney and then got John Sergeant back to cameo as little Michael Banks.  (SERIOUSLY – BEST LOOKALIKES SINCE DICAPRIO AND LAMONT)

And speaking of Tory MPs and theTitanic... at least we avoided the sight of Ann Widdecombe rumba-ing in lycra leggings whilst sounding her foghorn this year. (Sorry to those who had exorcised that particular demon.)  This time, the Hollywood Week rumba was An Officer and A Gentleman – sadly, they didn't go literal and give us a cross-dressing homoerotic rumba between a seaman and a toff (Erin must have been seething to miss out on that chestnut), and instead we were treated to Brendan in uniform (overrated) and a surprisingly ok performance from Victoria.  Sure, there was a fair amount of shunt and drag and an unfortunate chiffon noose, but she looked ever beautiful and it was comparatively low on extreme cringe, which is pretty incredible in rumbaland.

In fact, I wonder if Victoria didn't do better than Sid this week – his and Ola's Rock Of Ages theme had much potential, but it ended up a bit of a stinker (though, at least, that was true to that godawful shiteballs film – I lasted 16 minutes before hitting stop and ruing the £3.99 I'd just given Virgin On Demand).  The first problem with Sola Power this week was that I had no idea what dance they were actually doing for most of it.  Then, once I knew it was a tango, I was all the more disappointed.  I love a tango, but Rickaaay looked way too rabbit-in-headlights to go hell for leather and itwas all a bit muted – even Ola's lace catsuit was covered by a gigantic feathe rbustle over the celebrated Jordan derrière. Though at least she didn't shy away from 80s heavy metal crotch appeal, wearing silver knickers over her catsuit, superhero stylee, which culminated in a special jock strap-inspired sequinned lady garden clump – just the sort of subtle belt detail welcomed by your average rock frontman.

Now then, I imagine we were all CRAZED WITH EXCITEMENT at the Girls Aloud reunion announcement this week?  I'm sure you've all watched the press conference several times by now, and boo-hissed at Heat deciding it was entirely appropriate to ask five millionaire women what pants they were currently wearing, though I'm a bit worried for Sarah, who seems, fragile... Still, hooray for Nicola, who was looking like a brilliant pineapple and well done toNadine and Cheryl for making some (if minimal) effort not to openly roll theireyes when the other was talking.  I also enjoyed...  Oh, sorry, have you had enough of the Girls Aloud chat?  Hurrumph. Well, fortunately, it seems that Kimbles' promotional Girls Aloud reunion activities didn't negatively distract from rehearsing and performing a very lovely quickstep, though OBVIOUSLY she loses points for not being an air hostess. Snakes On A Plane would have been a perfect quickstep theme, no?

Tell what was a brilliant quickstep theme – 9 To 5.  I suspect Erin and Robin had a row over who got to use that song this week, though it will surprise precisely no-one that Miss Whiplash won out. (I just hope poor Bobby wasn't too traumatised.)  We can gloss over the quickstep itself, as the best bit was obviously Richard Arnold typing camply at the start.  However, it does have some way to go to beating my favourite 9 To 5 tribute – all hail Gary Tank Commander. (Whilst we're here – you should also watch this and this – and please treat this as an official request for a Gary Tank Commander theme week –if we have to have themes, might as well go for quality inspiration.)

So, having lost the 9 To 5 coin toss, Robin and Lisa had to find their camp elsewhere and so they did it the traditional way - channelling Madonna. No, not erotic ‘thriller’ Body Of Evidence (THANK CICCONE), nor self-indulgent divafest Evita (OMG IMAGINE!), but Dick Tracey and Madonna's tribute to there being “nothing like a good spanky”.  It was typical Lisa – fun, flirty, cheeky and generally joyous.  So, we can cross 'jive' off the list of dances that Lisa has nailed.

Having only had five minutes of rehearsal time, due to Colin's commitments to filming Arrow (which basically sounds like Batman meets Robin Hood – hello AWESOME), I was worried this would be a bit dodgy, and so was Kristina, clearly, hence donning the world's most naked dress as a serious distraction - I mean, we've seen some filth-ridden outfitson Strictly, but this was something else! It honestly looked like she was going to perform a series of lifts without any pants on, but THANK GOD FOR IN-BUILT GUSSET.  

They went for Bond and Goldeneye, which is a particularly brave move, given the Karen and Ramps Goldeneye Argentine Tango triumph some years ago (probably my favourite Strictly dance ever)…  So, did they pull it off?  Well, more or less, but I just couldn't help but wish they were doing it a month down the line – just think how much more sharp and sexy and slinky and stable and quick and good it could have been then?  Yes, EXACTLY, quite a lot more sharp and sexy and slinky and stable and quick and good.  And THAT, ladies and gents, is why I'm still against the Argentine Tango being performedthis early on.  Ithankyew.

It’s worth noting that Darcey requested more DIRTY, YAH from Colin for next time - if that goes the way it did when Erin was asked for more gay, we're in for some serious complaints to Ofcom next week.  Colin has promised to bring the (poshest) dirty, but he also revealed that they're doing cat and wizard for Halloween, so I'm not entirely sure how that's going to work. Then again, Kristina is a choreographic genius, so dear God, help us all – Sexy Wizard is not a theme I’m keen on.

I've officially warmed to Dani Harmer, in spite of her leg tattoos - she did a lovely foxtrot to Somewhere Over The Rainbow, complete with real life Toto scampering on at the end, right on cue, allowing Bruce and the judges to throw a poo bag around.  Toto seemed an adorable mutt, until it went a leetle bit mental at Vinthent - barking aggressively and taking a bite at the Simone nose.  Probably the dog was disappointed, like the rest of us, that Vinthent wasn't in a ridiculous costume– he was playing friend of Dorothy, so the least he could have done was to come as the Tinman, Scarecrow, Lion, Witch, Wardrobe, Copper, Builder, Sailor, Cowboy, Red Indian or indeed Toto himself, right?

Nicky Westlife did go for costume, however, and a full face of green for The Mask - the likes of which we've notseen since Pash-shrek.  (Sadly minus the infamous poo slacks, though it wouldn't be completely incorrect to... well,let's just say Nicky's trousers were a challenging shade of yellow, which the French call caca d’oie.)  And it seems that the green facepaint andgoose poo slacks provided the inspiration Nicky finally needed to actually pull through and perform the quickstep Karen had taught him!  And pretty well!  It’s perhaps not surprising that it’s taken the Westlifer a couple of weeks to warm into it – he’s used to sitting down and droning for the first part of a performance. This quickstep was the moment he was finally able to stand up off his stool and reach for the keychange.

Best til last?  I think so (sorry Den). Louis “Spaghetti arms” Swayze and Flavia “Watermelon” Dibbley turned out a grand old recreation of theDirty Dancing mambo-salsa.  Things that were particularly impressive: Louis’, well, general physique and the lifts – and THAT lift in particular.  Although he was wildly booed for not having watched Dirty Dancing, let us not forget that he is a 23 year old straight man, so it’s hardly a surprise that he didn’t don his PJs, rack up the ice cream and settle on down to watch the film – but if he did, he would learn that Baby is NOT in a corner, but in a BLOODY ALCOVE.  I imagine he went clubbing with Bruno, Darceyand JLS instead.

For extra lolz, it’s worth listeningto the SHOCKED audience reaction when Len dares give Louis a 6.  (1.49.30)

I wasn’t blown away by the pro-dances this week (I mean, where was the partner swapping?!?), but let the official record state that I didn’t storm off in searing rage at a Tom Chambers/Anton tap dance (though, I may have shouted “you woz robbed Rachel Stevens, regardless of how beige you were” a few times). It was good to see Kristina get a turn in the spotlight - interesting that she didn’t opt for the Flavia school of bondage showdance, but ramped up the Marilyn to 14 instead and requested lots of extra female dancers, so the other lady-pros just faded into the lady-mass (CLEVER).  Sunday saw Dionne Warwick struggle a little,but at least she was happy to let the pro-dancers come in and do their stuff – I can’t fault Iveta, and I don’t miss Aliona, but I couldn’t help but wish Katya was on the stage, looking evil and determined and showing off as hard as she could.  And it was nice of Robin tolend Pasha one of his chiffon chain-mail shirts, eh?  He nearly filled it.

I leave you with EXCELLENT news - Bruceis taking a week off sometime in November! I imagine Tess is particularly delighted - after two weeks of double fisting they regressed back to the uncomfortable thigh grope and, brace yourselves - an actual Bruce penis joke (I can only pray it was unscripted).  Tess looked like she wanted to give him a swift heel to the Forsythes, regardless of his age.  In the current climate, I'd have thought the BBC would be a little more careful to, erm, shall we say, 'fix it' for Tess not to have to deal with Bruce's dirty-old-man-ness...

Ahem.

In the meantime, keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepetc.

Series 10 - Week 2

And so, to totally misquote The Smiths, for Aliona and Johnny, it was over before it even began. *sigh* Poor Aliona must be soooooooo disappointed that her only Strictly appearances this year will be high octane, super impressive pro-dances with Pasha and that she won't be able to demonstrate her full range of plonking both young AND old men in the middle of the dance floor and dancing around them wildly screaming LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEEEEE through the medium of ballroom. At least she can take comfort that she and Johnny still have the contractually obligated couples' procession/two second solo in the final to look forward to - if her ankle bears up then, of course...

Whilst Johnny seemed like a nice old man, if slightly too prone to gurning, I can't say I'm too upset to see him leave at this stage of a DANCE competition. I am quite sad that Iveta is leaving though – I was warming to her Lithuanian twist on the array of Soviet accents and she seemed genuinely sweet (as opposed to Natbot pre-programmed-faux-sweet), with some possible mild bonkers brewing – for example, she looked stunned that they were in the dance-off.  Errr...?  Good bye Iveta – and just when make up had worked out how to make you look less like a skeletal cat.

As for Johnny's opponent, well, what did the judges expect would happen when they told Erin she needed to up her gay? The TV audience might not have been into it, but I thought the Arnold-Boag flower-powered Love Shack cha cha was awesome and I openly 'lol'ed from beginning to end. I loved it all - There's Something About Richard's Quiff, the matching floral boobs and paunch, and - especially - the best use of moth-eaten curtains since Maria's illicit makeover of the Von Trapp children. The judges destroyed it, but it was Classic Erin Comedy Genious. LONG MAY SHE REIGN.

More surprising, however, was the Natbot Comedy Genious! It's possible that her jive with Michael Vaughan actually made me chuckle more than the Erin/Richard performance. Yes, I have eyes – I realise it was woeful, but it was so woeful that we actually saw Natbot break through the competitive barrier and break on through to the other side.  It suddenly hit her that she really could just piss about and have a laugh and THAT WAS OK... And the audience might even love it more!!!  Cue revolutionary explosion, her mainframe duly cross-circuited and BAM – iNatbot. She became a sentient mortal being – even human. Who'd have thought?

Whether I will like iNatbot longer term remains to be seen, but I'm certainly handing her special Strictlycad points for the bonkers disco hoedown theme. Clearly Aliona's passed the crazeballs choreography pills to Natalie, and she's hoovered them down - “so, I need to kill a few seconds, as Richard can't dance, so what random scenario can I shoehorn into the opening bars to delay the dancing... Hmmmm... I know!!! My song's about DIY and house repairs, so I'll give Richard A CARDBOARD AXE to swing about!”

Did it work? Well, durrrr – of course not, so Natalie also did her best to distract the audience away from watching Richard by donning teeny sequinned denim hotpants, gingham farm-bra and glitter bolero – but the ghetto-fabulous cowgirl act was never going to draw our eye away from the hilarity of wild manjive flailing, complete with bootylicious "hanging basket" bum and kicks and flicks manically thrown out with no discernible respect for timing, the routine or dance in general.  Mr Cad's sole comment was “Ain't got time to fix the shingle? He dances like he has some”. Well, for me that was the joy. Hooray that Michael Vaughan survives to camply stick his bum out through another latin.

Whilst we're talking about the, er, weaker performances, how about a quick word on Nicky Westlife, who seemed to forgo any attempt at cha cha and ended up doing some self-conscious clubbing – not good. He later claimed he couldn't hear the music - if that was the case, then (sorry Dave Arch) he was one of the lucky ones. It seems Taio Cruz is a bit of a stretch for our vocalists...

Dance partner Karen seems nice enough, but she's still got A LOT to learn about Strictly UK style. Only go modern if you're prepared to be weirdly conceptual, else not even Craig will like it. However, kudos for a brave, if futile attempt at standing up to wardrobe - clearly after she saw the playback of the way that yellow loo roll dress 'sat' around the chest area (epic boob squash), she requested push up.  She was rewarded with sweat mesh, a Billy Idol leotard and ungainly lady fringing.

Aha! We appear to be on the subject of dodgy outfits already... So time for TessDressMessAssess, obviously. Firstly, as I MAY have said ONCE OR TWICE OR A BILLION TIMES BEFORE, there is NOTHING WRONG in going up a size - to eradicate, for example, mild to severe pot belly. This applies all the more when you’re wearing your favourite black spanks as evening outerwear, with nothing over the top to soften the effects – a black chiffon curtain sprouting from your garden area will not provide a sufficient distraction. But I still think that Saturday's Tess Sexy Goth was somehow better than Sunday’s lumpy purple halter neck, with fuchsia lightning bolts emanating from the Daly belly button. Mr Cad likened her to an electrified disco totem pole.

I do have a new theory about her outfits though – it's all about repulsing Bruce, so he doesn't get too handsy. Ten series in, it's finally working! They've swapped the thigh grab for a double fist pump.

One more dress mess – Darcey's Saturday earrings. What the WHAT? Why marry such an elegant NECKLINE, YAH, with an over hair-sprayed high PONY, YAH, and a couple of outsized polos dipped in GLITTER PAINT, YAH?  Just, NO, YAH?

Actually, this week Darcey toned down the yahs (yah), which I was surprised to find I missed (yah), as it turns out I quite liked them (yah) - not least as they form the basis of the most drunken TV drinking game since the Question Time Drinking Game (and a shot when an audience member slags the EU, yah).

But shall we move on from fashion bitchery and shimmy over to the two salsa couples this week? Dani Harmer was MUCH improved – both on likeability and danceability. Despite one highly messy lift, clearly inspired by a WWF wrestling smackdown (and which the producers kindly used as her ungainly recap shot), I really enjoyed Vinthent and Dani's Mama Do The Hump and it was good to see seamless armography so early on, when the norm is usually an embarrassing arm tangle.

By contrast, Sid and Ola's salsa was low on armography and high on, well Ola’s minimal outfit really.  (Someone's making the most of an Aliona-less show and she doesn't even need her catsuit...) This week she had decided to dress her crotch with the frilly offshoots of the Erin/Richard curtain costumes and match that with a belly dancer's wonderbra, mainly decorated with old chocolate coin foil.  It was probably for the best that all eyes were on Ola, as Ricky was wearing a glittery bowling shirt the colour of sweat stains, so that wasn't a sartorial highpoint. There was a bit of dad dancing to his salsa, sure, but it was highly enjoyable, even the tribal fist'n'thrust – they will certainly be here til Wembley.

Shall we take a turn towards the Viennese waltzes? Four of them this week and they fared ok, if uninterestingly (a waltz, uninteresting? SHOCKING). Colin and Kristina battled their chronic height difference valiantly, but ballroom is going to be a challenge – she can't actually reach his shoulder.   Apparently, there's also a second challenge - dressing Colin decently; those lengthy beige slacks were doing little to catch his Salmon...

Wardrobe weren't much kinder to poor Fern – given her well documented weight loss, it seemed harsh that they'd put her in low waisted scarlet, with an emphasis on the midriff. At least her hair looked great. As for Team Fartem's Viennese waltz... nondescript, but certainly not bad. And we also got the teeniest Artem eyebrow raise and sense of emotion as he defended his use of waftography!  Why so lively and awake our Artem? Maybe his dealer was out of town this week.

For me, the best VW was a toss up between Louis and Lisa, which is a sentence potentially full of filthy innuendo that I pray you will ignore. Louis and his Mr Tickle arms were very elegant, but he still hasn't quite worked out his best dance face - this week was very 'ignore the fart smells and try smiling', which I suppose was still an improvement on last week’s 'Pommel Horse Olympic Concentration'.  Mind you, it’s likely that his face was a bit weird as he was using all his force to surpress the anger that the song Puppy Love inspires in all normal people – Puppy Kill would be a much more apt title. Seriously, Flavs – were all the other 3/4s gone?

I’m also going to have to add Louis to the official Awful Hair List – way too much side bald. Whoever is styling the Pasha and Louis follicles deserves to be locked in a room and forced to listen to the Osmonds on repeat until they learn the errors of their hairdressing ways.

The producers saved Lisa's Viennese Waltz til last, to up the ante, I think, after her cha cha triumph.  And I'd imagine we all approached her performance with some trepidation - Chubba could cha cha, but could she waltz?  Well, yes, she could, mostly, although her hold looked a little uncomfortable and there were moments where she looked rather crazed (I think the blood had rushed to her head and she was thinking “weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, this is faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaast and I'm feeling dizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzy”), but she still had lovely flourishes.  I fear that each week they're going to put her on last, so we spend the show wondering how she'll fare and whether it will all go a bit Russell Grant this time – I truly hope that each week, she shows us that, actually, she can handle the new dance perfectly well, thank you very much.

Over in Foxtrot corner, the judges were kind to Victoria – a bit too kind, perhaps.  Yes, her ballroom was miles better than her cha cha, but HELLO?!? I'm not sure what she could have done to make it worse, short of freaking out, slapping Brendan/Bruce/Tess and running out screaming (actually, that would have been BRILLIANT!!!). Brendan, like Anton, is old school, and the old school approach to the early weeks of ballroom remains standard – if she can't keep up, hold tight and start shunting. This seemed to suit the Pendles, happy to remain refuged in Brendan's arms – but the dance stabilisers (BIKE REF ALERT HONK) won't be there every week.

If I'm honest, there was a bit of grab and shunt from the other Foxtrotters too – Jerry and Anton is no surprise, but Kimberley also had a few struggles – though we do have to allow for the inevitable errors brought on by the feelings of revulsion inspired by Pasha's New Hair.

Fashion-wise, foxtrot was definitely this week's Queen of Dance - what utterly GORGEOUS foxtrot dresses and earrings; both Kimba and Jerry looked amazing. With Kimbles, that was more than enough to distract from her, erm, trickier moments, with Jerry... well... I'd like to say she tried her best, but the reality is that she tried as much as she could be arsed, which wasn't that much, but was probably more than last week. But sod it, I'm still Team Jerry, if only for her drawl. And we mustn't forget that it's ANTON 'teaching' her, so she is starting from a major disadvantage.

Who's left? Well I've saved the best til last - D.V.O. Herself.  (Ignores the cries of 'FIX'. Again.)  I really hope it's not just sweepstake bias talking, but frankly I thought Denise was robbed with four 8s - she was BLOODY MAGNIFICENT and in a later week that would have been a shower of 9s and, yes, I’ll say it - 10s.  I know there's been mucho grumbling about how it's not fair to have trained dancers on, but if that's what we get to see in WEEK 2, then bring 'em on, say I - I'm perfectly happy to watch quality dancing this early on. It was a brilliant jive, full of sass and confidence and no real sign of the mooted whiplash – the power of paracetamol, eh?

And Craig got a couple of snogs out of it.

However, my personal dance highlight was Sunday's pro-dance - West Side Strictly.  Gang violence in dance form.  Ballroom Jets and Latin Sharks in an almighty teadance rumble, with Kristina and Tony Beak playing the star crossed  loverrrrs. (AMAZING acting from Ms Rihanoff - her ability not to openly gag when Anton stroked her... well, she deserves an Oscar.)  

I thought it was proper mega – one of my Top 5s, I'd say. So much to love - the partner swapping and hilarious fronting (not least from Kristina, with her rather raunchy sheer top and flesh-coloured bra); Brendan wearing a chef's outfit; Erin getting the neck rub OF HER LIFE from lovely Robin; and, of course, good old Natalie typically last to get into position in the closing tableau, so all eyes are ON HER.

Scariest bitch face in the dance rumble: 1. Erin. 2. Ola. 3. iNatbot.

Least scariest bitch face in the dance rumble: Vinthent. 

Most missed scariest bitch face: Katya.  (BOOOOOO.) 

Still awesome though.

So I think that's more or less it, no? Oh – we mustn't forget to extend a welcome back to lovely Claudia (even if I am still very very very sad that she's not It Takes Two-ing anymore – Zoe is great, but Claudia was IMMENSE)

I was also transfixed by whatever it was the Scissors Sisters were doing. There's sometimes a fine line between genius and ragged old shit, and I'm wasn't quite sure which this was at first, but I've now watched it a few times and the verdict is this – I wanna have a kiki.

Next week: Hollywood week. Jerry will be 'dancing' a quickstep to Mrs Robinson. Brace yourselves people.  Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeep hoping.

Series 10 – Week 1 – Show 2

Well that was a bit more like it!  More exciting, better standard, and a number of good performances from some unexpected areas.  Also, a opening PRO DANCE, which incorporated so many great Strictly things: the Simone eye brow, Dave Arch on solo synth, a Rihanoff-Loweoff diva off (Team Kristina), a fantastic lift sequence from Robin and Kristina (aeroplane on shoulder to legs akimbo in a V behind the head to being flipped overhead back down the Windsor front), a classic Jordans' spin (Ola balanced on James' neck – LOOK MUM NO HANDS!), super cool shimmy dresses, mercifully limited du Beke, all of which culminated in some good old partner swapping, where Ola took one for the team and let Anton do the Dell'Olio head to floor drop, whilst Vinthent somehow, SOMEHOW, didn't look utterly ridiculous dancing with the comparatively lofty Natalie.  Brendan also showed how welcoming everyone's being to the new girl by slapping Karen's thigh as she sat on his shoulder, much like you'd pet a Labrador.

Question du jour - will Tess make it to Bruce's arms in time for the cocked leg tonight?  Well, HOLD THE FRONT PAGE, they've only gone and scrapped it!  Yessss!  And I highly approve of what we get instead – a good old double fist pump.  It’s only taken Tess ten years to get out of that extra close hold – which tells you rather a lot about male power at the Beeb...  (Oh yes – Strictlycad - not afraid to tackle gender politics HEAD ON.)

But, more importantly, do I approve of TessDressMess tonight?  Well the design, a white swimming costume mullet dress - the kind of thing an obsessed tennis fan might wear to get married - is not for me.  I'd take some pinking sheers to the party at the back, for starters.   HOWEVER - and hallelujah!!! – tonight we are blessed with perky, correctly positioned boobs and no middle age spread mirage.  Finally we see the Daly figure as it is - perhaps with spanx, but she's only human.  Well done Tess!  

She's not wearing the best vest though – that's Robin.  We will dwell on that MARVEL later.

The first victims are Kimberley Walsh and Pasha's Terrible Hair.  In a surprising move, her rehearsal VT has already called on another Girl Aloud to lend support (surely they'd be wise to save that until week 5 or 6), although it's not Cheryl, so perhaps they don't think it counts.  Well, to me, it counts, because the peerless Nicola Roberts is by far my favourite GA, mainly for her work in experimental fashion and for producing a number of storming solo pop tunes.  Today Nicola is dressed in a fluorescent lime woolly jumper, tweed band uniform leggings and super dangling earrings – the love twins of a Dynasty curtain tie and a Native American friendship bracelet.  She is a goddess - may she dance the next series with Robin Windsor and all my ludicrous fashion dreams will come true.  Though it seems unlikely, seeing as when Kimba suggested Nicola have a go, she rolled her eyes in withering horror.  Though that might have been a completely understandable reaction to Pasha’s hair.

Oh yes, Kimba’s cha cha!  Good, as expected and I'm looking forward to seeing what she and Pasha's hair offer in due course - I think Ben's £1 will be in with a chance for a good old while, if not all the way.  Len calls her “nimble Kimble” - Pasha looks utterly flummoxed and has no idea whether this is good or not.  No-one bothers to explain, so he just rollicks on in his usual smiley way – he had plenty of practice of not understanding anything last year with Chelseh. 

During the judging Darcey forgets to raise her PADDLE YAR, for a good view SECONDS YAR, until Craig kicks her from under the TABLE, well, PROBABLY, YAR.

Sid 'RICKAAAAAY' Owen and Ola Jordan are up next.  He reminisces about how sexually aroused, I mean, thrilled he was when Ola was announced as his partner, before revealing that he's now changed his mind about the Jordan charms.  Like many before him, all he saw was peachy sex appeal and that midriff, before BAM!! – Venus Ola Trap.  Welcome to Ola Jordan Booty Camp, with Drill Sergeant Jordan ready to shriek at grown men until they cry or dance or both.  It seems, however, that it's a system that can work very well, as Ricky (plus brylcreemed hair, to show how SERIOUS he is) waltzes rather well, keeping his booty camp and shoulders in check and certainly turning out a far better attempt than Michael Cricket or Nicky Westlife. 

Meanwhile, Ola has somehow managed to find the world's most naked waltz dress – she’s carefully wrapped a washing line of dust cloths around her body, which cover the main key areas, but also offer an advantageous number of peeks at the Ola tum as she twirls around. 

The judges are pleased with the Rickaaaay waltz and Bruno admits he was pleasantly surprised by Sid's “erection”.  He then takes great offence at the audience thinking he was making a penis reference, when he was oh so clearly intended talking about his posture.  AHEM.

May I, at this point, offer an in-no-way-biased defence of my sweepstake ringer Denise van Outen?  I think it only fair to point out Sid went to theatre school too.  And who could forget that glittering pop career?  In light of that, does it still seem so surprising that he could handle himself on the dance floor?  (You’re all thinking “yes”, aren’t you?  Dammit!)  Either way, Justine's stake can't be discounted just yet.

We're then treated to another shot of Aliona's reaction to getting Johnny Ball.  I thought she'd toughed it out, but on second viewing it's clear that her face TOTALLY dropped and we got a barely disguised sulkathon – perhaps she was hoping for someone more spritely to join her ‘informal’ Battersea Park workouts?  Course, poor Aliona won’t be working out at all for a few weeks, seeing as her ankle is injured.  We actually get to see The Injury, which looks pretty undramatic at first, until you see the colour drop from her face and the proper concern from Johnny.  I think the word is ‘ouch’.

Anyway, cat-faced Iveta has been whisked in and... she and Johnny do their best, but it's a 74 year old guy doing a cha cha, so it was never going to be particularly snake-hipped.  It is fairly adorable though, and not only does he get through it, he makes fewer errors than Pendles.  The judges are still quite mean, but Iveta purrs that “ze young boys need to shape up now if zey vant to be a REAL MAN like Johnny”.  Yeah! Maths Geeks Do It Harder!  She also thanks everyone at “Strictly Ballroom” for being so kind.  Somewhere in England, Lilia Kopylova is stroking her pug, ranting furiously that it was SHE who should have been asked back, whilst poor wee Darren tries to placate her.

Who’s next? “Women think I'm just a fantasy, but I'm real” *eyebrow raise* - WE'VE MISSED YOU VINTHENT.  It turns out last night's dance cardigan is actually a button down dance tank top.  Nifty.  As for Dani, I feel mean, but I’m still not warming to her - but it’s hard to be bitchy as she’s young and seems very nervous/lacking in confidence.  I’ll just say their waltz was uninterestingly fine – nothing particularly special or memorable, but a good old Week One attempt, even if she had slight rigor mortis face throughout.  I don’t think it’s Vinthent’s year though – sorry Dan.  In many ways, we’re all losers on that front, as we won’t get the chance to hear the wonderful array of Simone soundbites (“shaking like a leaflet” remains my favourite by some way).

Oh, there was one ‘highpoint’ when Craig said that Dani had a “nice back” and Bruce helpfully added that she also had a “nice front”. *sigh*.  Keen to not only display outdated attitudes to women, but to violent behaviour too, Bruce then introduces Lisa by saying that she’s going to punch Craig if he’s mean.  Fatties that hit!  Hilarious!

Fortunately, Lisa comes across as a wonderfully friendly and engaging gal, delighting at her Strictly glamover and her new hagship with Robin.  She’s also invented a new language of dance, dispensing with French and opting for the Catchphrase approach of ‘say what you see’; where Robin sees a “rondé”, Lisa sees a “swisho” or a “twizzle” or a “bap bap”.  It may sound absurd, but the fact of the matter is that it totally works, for Lisa is a dance floor gem, completely stealing the show with her awesome cha cha cha.

Why so good?  Firstly, Robin’s chainmail disco vest – let’s hope he’s starting the fashion dance season as he means to go on.  Secondly, Lisa’s sheer enthusiasm – throwing everything she can into the moves and performing with an absolute beaming smile on.  Thirdly, CHUBBA CAN DANCE!  Even Craig Revel Horwood said so.  She knew her steps, her timing was bang on and she had got to the stage where she was able to work on the presentation itself, rather than just the motions.  Bruno gave her standing ovation for her bottom slap and Darcey appreciated her ‘risk-taking’ as she was the one who lifted Robin at the end.  (Mind you, I’d imagine it wasn’t too much of an effort to invite such thighs to be clasped around one’s waist.)

It was just a wonderfully joyful routine, which they clearly both loved learning and performing and which made everything in the world better for 90 seconds.  Louise’s £1 is suddenly looking like a contender!   It will be interesting to see Lisa’s ballroom, which may be more of a challenge, but right now, I wouldn’t put it past her to pull out a lovely waltz.  If you’re looking for a joke candidate, time to move along – Lisa is not the new Russell Grant by any means.

Richard Arnold also avoided the ‘joke’ tag (for now – I await his cha cha with trepidation) – turning out a rather nice, albeit dull, waltz.  (But waltzes ARE dull – fact.)  The best bit about Richard and Erin’s performance was in the VT, with Erin freestyle disco dancing in her weirdly slutty ballgown and greasy bouffant mullet top knot – complete with finger guns.

And then it was time - for Ms Jerry Hall... Well.  Um.  Can we just have her drawl for a minute and a half?  It’s not that she was bad at cha cha cha-ing, it’s just that her dancing was... a bit non.  I blame Anton, obviously, for mainly letting her pose and strut and not bothering to teach her anything (which is no surprise - why start training your partner ten years in?).  Still, she did pose marvellously, at least - H to T. Tyra would be proud.  I expect Anton is far too terrified of Jerry to crack the whip anyway - well, not without an express invitation.  At least Len wasn’t too intimated to have a good old flirt with la Hall - “next week, excite me!”, with Jerry immediately flirting back “wait until you see my fohhhhxtrot”.  More of that please.  Even if it is with Len.

“Have we saved the best til last?” asks Tess “Not really” answered Anton, which I’m embarrassed to admit made me chuckle.  Of course Louis ‘Lewis’ Smith and Flavia Cacace’s cha cha was amongst the best; a very pelvic performance, with incredibly oiled hip action and only the merest hint of gym fun.  There was perhaps a bit too much paso-face for a cheeky cha cha, but that was clearly down to Louis’ concentration on the steps.  Darcey certainly enjoyed it - gushing forth with Arlene levels of thigh rubbing compliments.  (The invite to the sexy pahty is in the MAIL, YAR.)  In fact, there was a general judge perveathon, with Bruno expressing great surprise that Craig had even noticed Louis’ facial expression.  They were tight trousers, it's true.

So there we go – I think we’re in for a good season, all told.  Especially as THE DANCE-OFF IS BACK! WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! YAR!  I know some think it should all be down to the public, but it seems to me that the public can’t always be trusted (Widdecombe), so I’m glad that there will be some quality control in the final stages, even if we do have to put up with Len grumbily pretending to find the whole thing stressful, when it's clear he knows exactly who he wants to boot, right from the off.

I also particularly enjoyed the film noir package of the judges discussing the dance-off, with Len explaining the finer points (err, really so complex it needed its own VT?) and asking Bruno and Craig which of them would win.  “Me” said Bruno, immediately. “No, I would” replied Craig. “I’m thinner” said Bruno settling the matter. 

Line of the series.

Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep dancin’.

Series 10 - Week 1 - Show 1

Well, how was it for you? For me, a typically mixed glitterball. There's always something of the anticlimax during the first week, as the slebs are some way off the showdance level we saw last Christmas, and although this year I did remember to check my expectations, I'm not sure they were lowered to quite the requisite level. Still, plenty to bitch and delight about in this first half, with much to look forward to on Saturday and beyond. I'm smelling potential - and it smells ok.

Let's gloss over the poorly-acted “I think Sid/Fern/Johnny's going to be really good” testimonials and hit the opening credits running; a few new exciting overhead shots, though I am sad that they've opted not to run with those theme tune lyrics.  I mean, how will I remember that we should go dancing tonight (da da da da da) and party the whole night (da da da etc), without being prompted? (Perhaps that's why I fell asleep on the sofa during QI and failed to make it dancing...)  We're also going to have to stare at Flavia's horrible red trouser suit and Anton's Jerry-inspired sexpression every week until Christmas, which will be a challenge for us all, but - together - I'm sure we can make it through and learn to look at Twitter during those bits.

Da da da das done, we're back in the studio 'enjoying' the bit I have to repeatedly blank from my memory every week: Bruce doing that shuffle stamp everyone pretends is 'dancing' and Tess rushing towards his arms to do that inelegant leg stick. Tonight, however, Tess 'forgot' to move to the middle of the stage in time and there was an awkward moment when she just grabbed Bruce's hands and fake-smiled.  Bruce looked even more lost and flustered than usual - I'm sure she didn't mean to confuse him, but come on La Daly!  Careful now!  This is live TV and you're playing 'surprise the eighty year old'...

Anyway, rather than dwelling on Bruce's opening lead balloon punchline (about Kate Middleton's breasts, obvs), let's turn our attention to TessDressMessAssess.  Not her worst (it would be a shame to waste a horror so early on), but an odd choice - rather more Strictly Come Boardroom, than ballroom.  Black, mid-thigh, tweedy and itchy; as if she'd decided to downplay the glam and focus instead on her inner office bitch.  It was also very weird of shape – well fitted up top, with an extreme Pyramid miniskirt; like she'd opted to stand behind Mr Heckles' magnifying glass and make it all about her crotch.  Still, on the plus side, the lorry mudguard pockets and red heels made her legs looked grrrreat, which, in turn, neatly distracted from her hair – I'm guessing her hairdresser couldn't find his scissors, so went at the ends with a hacksaw.

But enough of that for the moment - there'll be plenty more to bitch about when we see Tess' Saturday outfit.  Right now, it's time for the celebs to negotiate the stairs! Who will wobble? Who will most look like they want to be sick?  To be honest, I didn't notice – all I could see was Artem's manboobs.  Wowsers!  Truly, I never thought I'd see the day when anyone out-titted Robin 'string vest' Windsor.  

Also of note – Vinthent appeared to be wearing a dance cardigan and Colin Salmon was already in leopard print. Clearly, it's all about the boys' wardrobes this year. Very good.

Quick housekeeping point: we're getting half the dancers tonight, half on Saturday, but no-one's leaving until next weekend. Everyone's doing a waltz or a cha cha cha this week, and the other next week.  Let the slightly rubbish dancing begin!

First up, Fern Britton and Artem's Pecs. We're reminded that Fern is mainly famous for Ready, Steady, Cook, being too old for ITV's daytime viewers (POT/KETTLE?) and her gastric band. She says she likes dancing, but "mainly that freestyle groove” (whereupon we all sicked up a bit in our mouths).  This was was cringingly illustrated by the V-sign eyes dance that no-one bar the fictional character Mia Wallace should ever attempt.   Artem is still stoned and Russian.  He also likes to rehearse in a pink scarf.

As for her cha cha - well... we saw Fern bounce-walking around looking alternatively smiley and pouty.  She briefly messed up, recovered, swished her skirt a while and ended up with her leg in the air.  She's bendier than you might think, but I don't think her sweepstakee Vix will be getting the prize draw. Sorry lovely!

Bruce introduces Dave Arch and the judges in his usual way (Dave Arch is “wonderful”, the judges are a pain in the arse.) He then presented new judge Darcey Bussell with a over-compensatory ramble about her 'dahnce' credentials, even adding “it will be nice to have a judge on the panel who knows what they're talking about.”  Ahem.  Craig and Len pretend to find that sweet and hilarious (they are RAGING inside), Bruno faux-strops (he is RAGING inside), and somewhere in the ether, Arlene is retweeting a million messages about how she should still be on the panel instead of that cow Alesha (she is OPENLY RAGING).  Am sure that wherever she is (probably out drinking with Allan Carr), Alesha doesn't give a shit about any of it.

So Darcey might be able to dance, but can she judge?  Well, not yet, not really, but we already suspected that.  Firstly, her intonation is that of a Surrey teen – whereby she goes UP, at the end of every SUB-CLAUSE, like she's asking a QUESTION, to everyone that's LISTENING. Her main tactic is to offer very sensible, practical, slightly boring advice, which she intersperses with an inordinate amount of yahs. “You need to extend your ARMS, YAR?” “You need to dance in lower HEELS, YAR?” “You need to feel the MUSIC, YAR?”, “You need to dance BETTER, YAR?”  It is pretty ANNOYING, YAR, but I suspect the Telegraph masses will accept it more willingly than “YOU WOZ, YOU WOZ”.   Sometimes she also throws in a “hmmm?”, an “ok?”, or a even a “yes, YAR?”, probably for SHITS, YAR or GIGGLES, YES, YAR?

She also needs to learn how to raise her paddle like the other judges, as she's currently brandishing it a bit like a sword, which I suspect might be a health and safety concern.  Having said that, she might accidentally hit Len one week, in which case I would LAUGH, YAR, because that would be FUNNY, YAR.  HMMM, OK, YES, YAR, ETC.

The other judges, typical old men that they are, haven't changed their panto roles in the past ten years and why bother now? Len's standing up against feminism - the poor boys are at a disadvantage because they can't “skirt waft”, Bruno's already out of his seat, in order to excitably discuss Fern's nether regions and Craig throws out his first “disahhhster” – something about a Cuban section.

Next up are Nicky Westlife and newbie Karen Hauer, which I think is an apt moment to remember her glorious predecessor Katya Virshilas, queen of hats and scary bitches, who was unceremoniously and inexplicably fired after Strictly Nine for... what?  Putting up with Tuffers and Dan Lobb On and getting Henson to a semi-final?!  It hardly seems fair.   We loved you Katya and like Lilia and her little husband, we shall never forget.

Judging by the VT shots of Westlife 'back in the day', Nicky Byrne hasn't aged in about fifteen years.   (No doubt Louis Walsh has a portrait of the whole band in an attic somewhere – and not just for Dorian Grey purposes.)  His partner Karen is in the highly fortunate position of never having heard of Westlife, although she has heard of the Backstreet Boys, so I live in hope for a routine to the greatest BSB song ever Larger Than Life (this is not open to debate, whatever my sister might have to say about the merits of The Call).

Nicky waltzes with hands in pockets whilst Karen swishes around in a giant yellow dress of excellent loo roll holder proportions.  His posture is woeful, but he sure hasn't forgotten how to bring slow-motion, pop music video intensity to his performance.  They also throw in an illegal lift, and Craig duly admonishes Karen for it – “ONE FOOT MUST REMAIN ON THE FLOOR AT ALL TIMES”.   (Backstage they try to pass it off as a 'swoosh' – that well known technical dance term).  Bruno tries to snog Len to illustrate... I have no idea, and Darcey tells Nicky that “his strength is his musicality”, which made me laugh heartily for a good five minutes. Clearly Darcey's not heard of Westlife either.  

(I'm sitting on the fence regarding their, and Abi's, chances.  His score wasn't great, but I'm not discounting them, and the fanatical power of Westlife fans, yet...)

In the next VT, we are reminded that Michael Vaughan plays cricket and is English, and that English cricketers hate the Australians, and his partner Natalie Lowe is an Australian, so we must prepare ourselves for loads of hilarious BANTER, YAR?  Fortunately, I think Mr Vaughan will provide some comedy moments, I enjoyed his pre-waltz worry that “there's a bit of a spin on that dance and I could end up in the trumpets.”  He didn't and just about got through his routine unscathed, with only the slightest bout of constipation face and audible whispers of 1-2-3. 

They celebrated getting to the end of their elegant romantic waltz with some fist pumps and pelvic thrusts (from Natbot mainly).  Darcey advises “don't get stiff on US, YAR” - no sexy pahty for Michael, then.  Up in the balcony (I miss the Tesspit), Michael basically says 'I didn't fall on me arse, I've had a cracking day and I've got my fee now!', so I'm not sure Terry's £1 is quite going to make it.  Still, Michael is a sportsman and we mustn't forget that Natbot is programmed for Competitive Overdrive and there's no way she'll accept anything less than aiming for Strictly Victory, even after all hope is lost.

The training footage for Victoria Pendleton and Brendan Cole suggests that muscle memory is going to be a challenge for Vic and the performance, sadly, bears that out – bit of a hot mess, really.  My sister tweeted that she “watched it in rumba mode, i.e., only one eye open” - I think she speaks for us all, no?   (Mr Cad and I watched from behind our house hoodies).  

It all got a bit too much for poor Victoria at judging – suffice to say, we can all cross 'Pendleton cries' off our SCD Bingo list.  However, it's likely that the tears flowed less for the mistakes and more because of her slitty Aladdin jumpsuit and that really dodgy scousebrow. Clearly wardrobe have decided she's this year's Holly Valance and are determined to dress her in the worst monstrosities. Good luck getting her to look fat and ugly though – she's gorge, even with the added eyebrow pencil.  And perhaps the sympathy vote will help Jo's £1 stake make it through.

Interlude whilst Bruce does quite a good joke about letters.

Over to Kristina Rihanoff and Colin Salmon – I wonder how many weeks they'll shoehorn the Bond references in, to remind us all why he's famous. He has, of course, been in shitloads of film and TV things, but my favourite bit about his Wikipedia entry is that he used to in a punk band and now has his own jazz quartet in which he plays trumpet. Obviously, that could all be made up, and he might just as easily have been a former pig breeder who loves to crotchet and now captains a boules team, but regardless, I instantly warmed to him and Kristina's partnership, especially as Colin shamelessly took to the floor in Pat Butcher's jumble sale cast offs and a sequinned wife-beater. 

Kristina was in her usual uniform of Mermaid Barbie's bra and the insides of a cassette reel stapled to her pants. (NB: there was only enough tape to make it around the bottom area and one leg – must have been a C60.)  Their cha cha cha was GREAT! Mincy - sure! But also camp and funky and competent.  In your FACE (YAR), the production team who gave such a teeny dancer a giant to work with – I have high hopes for these two.  You never know, Jules - that £14 could be yours...

Also HOORAY for Kristina has unstraightened her hair. Take note, Tess, that's how you do messy-pretty platinum.

Finally, my sweepstakes - Denise van Outen, dancing with James Jordan.  I thought they were both Essex natives, but JJ is actually from Kent, though that's pretty much the same only with less make-up, right?   (Well, it is if TOWIE and the clientèle on a recent train ride to Margate are the only things to judge by.)  They've cracked out the dry ice already and although Dave Arch's singers are struggling a bit with the harmonies, James and Den are waltzing very well indeed.  

Mind you, it's not *that* surprising that DVO is competent at dancing, despite her protestations that she hasn't been to stage school for a few decades. (I'm sure that Chicago and Legally Blonde were able to send her Pineapple Studios way over the years.) The judges agree that her performance really was good, although Len has a grumble about the lack of heel leads. (Heel leads are hard – I've just tried heel-lead walking to my kitchen and it was a right arse.)

Also, you really couldn't tell that Ola had just broken James' nose, could you? The power of make-up!  (Pendleton scouse brows aside.)

And there we go – seven down, seven to go.  We're treated to a mini preview in which the next bunch all trot out the usual clichés about being nervous, having to focus, hoping to do well and dancing in front of millions.  Oh except, Jerry Hall, who BRILLIANTLY drawls “not AWL fillies give a smooth ride the first time ouuuut”. Have I mentioned that I love her?  Once or twice?  Well, COME ON! 

We'll also get a peak at Aliona's sub, Iveta Lukosiute – she's the slightly sketetal one with Aliona's old dye job, who has become Johnny's temporary partner and my mum's sweepstake dancer.   Aliona is due back in a couple of weeks – what a total coincidence that that's just after the first dance eviction, in which her sleb Johnny Ball is probably the favourite to go!  It would be a REAL SHAME if Aliona didn't get to dance with her celebrity duffer, wouldn't it?  A real bloody shame.

Anyway, on that note, it's time for QI and a snooze.  Mere hours til the next one! Keeeeeeeeeeeeeep dancin'.