Skip to main content

Sleb price tags revealed

In these strange times, when capitalist governments are busy nationalising banks and so on, it's probably a tad unfashionable to believe that the market is the best judge of a person's intrinsic value. But take a look at the fees being paid to the wannabes and has-beens lined up for the latest I'm a celebrity series on ITV1:

Nicola McLean £7.5k
Carly Zucker £10k
Robert Kilroy-Silk £15k
George Takei £20k
Esther Rantzen £25k
Martina Navratilova £30k

Source: Daily Telegraph

I can't comment on Nicola McLean, as I'm not sure I know who she is. All I can say is that it would take more than seven-and-a-half large to convince me to spend time in a jungle with Robert Kilroy-Silk. Carly Zucker is set to marry footballer Joe Cole and I'd like to think that he could stand her 10 grand out of his weekly paycheck. Her engagement ring supposedly cost five times as much. Which does beg the question as to whether any of these celebs really need a financial incentive at all.

Former Wimbledon tennis champion Martina Navratilova must be a multi-millionaire and the same is surely true of the erstwhile helmsman of the Federation Starship Enterprise, George Takei. Hell, even Esther Rantzen of That's Life fame has probably got a little bit stashed away for a rainy day, as well as a few erotically charged vegetables that she could sell on eBay.

But it's still interesting to see the relative values of the slebs. One Mr Sulu buys you a couple of Carly Zuckers. Or to put it another way, West Coast American screen royalty still wins out over Welsh WAG.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Special Constable update

I've now studied the Special Constable poster in more detail (see blogs passim ) and can reveal the idea is even more complex and bizarre than I first thought. You'll recall that a Special is on some seedy looking street corner, just yards away from where a drug deal is in progress. He's keenly observing events and looks ready to take some kind of action. The copy says that Specials wear uniform and always have back-up. But this guy is on his own in plain clothes. Worrying. Perhaps he's off duty but just can't leave the policing thing alone? Once a part-time copper, always a part-time copper. But wait. There is back up. It comes in the form of the constable's own reflection in a puddle. If he took his eyes off the criminal activity for just a second and took the trouble to look down at his feet, he'd see that in Puddle Land, he is wearing a uniform and carrying a radio. There's enough material here to fill a semiotics seminar for a day. If I disco...

Captain Birdseye and other people of rank

Regular readers may recall that I once doubted the existence of Yeo Valley. I'd never heard of the Yeo mountain range and I therefore rated the likelihood of there being a valley at somewhere between 0 and 5%. Of course, I had yoghurt all over my face when I discovered that the place really does exist. Somewhere in Somerset, I seem to recall. Today, having read an article in the latest edition of The Marketer magazine, I'm astonished to discover that there really was a Captain Birdseye. Well, I need to qualify that just a little. There was a Mister Clarence Birdseye who invented the fish finger back in 1955. The avuncular, uniformed figure who dominated our TV screens for about thirty years may have been an invention of over-eager advertising creatives, but he didn't blow in on a trawler during a squall. There was actually some connection to a real human being. These revelations about fish and yoghurt are causing me considerable disquiet, because I'm wondering h...

Tune in next week, when we'll turn another pretty woman into a high-class hooker...

I like to think that I keep up with most of Mrs W's viewing habits, but she's been watching more and more trash since emerging from her hospital trip and things are spiralling out of control. I understand the need for rest and recuperation, but fear the virus has eaten away at the part of her brain responsible for quality control. Somehow or other, I've never previously settled down to How to look good naked on Channel 4. For the uninitiated, the show is presented by a man called Gok Wan who has the kind of face you could happily slap for a week. No, make that a fortnight. Mr Wan is a firm believer that a woman hasn't lived until she's dressed herself up as a tart and paraded herself naked in front of TV cameras. The only thing holding her back is her self-esteem. With the help of hairdressers, make-up artists and a load of disingenuous patter about how great the girl is now looking, he persuades her to sway down a catwalk in lingerie and pose on a chair like...