Michele Hewitson: Bad Jim, worse gymslip

What a nice email I had from a lady, who is obviously not psychic, about something I wrote some time ago about some silly show on psychics and unsolved murders.

That she is not psychic is an assumption, of course, but it is based on the fact that it took her such a long time to read the aforementioned review. Surely she should have been psychically outraged as soon as the thing came out?

This is silly, but not as silly as such shows. Apparently I am a nasty horrible cow for saying such things. But perhaps I will revise my opinion of people who think they can sense creepy stuff because you will hardly believe this; I can hardly believe it - I seem to have come over all psychic myself.

Because there we were, the girls talking over coffee about Bad Girls and how glad we were the really nasty Fenner had met a nasty end at last. "He'll come back," I said.

Nah, they scoffed, not even on a show as mental as Bad Girls would they attempt that stunt. Not even in the series finale.

Well, ahem, ladies. He did. In the series finale. This was during an exorcism which, by the way, I believe in - in the same way I believe in crystal balls, shows about psychics and that anyone looks good in those long shorts worn with high heels.

Fenner came back as a ghost. Well, of course he did. There has never been anything as bad on Bad Girls as the plots. Except, perhaps, the acting.

I could also have predicted, if I hadn't been so busy putting my powers to greater uses, that Rodney Hide would be appearing in the second series of Dancing with the Stars.

I could have achieved such dizzying psychic heights by concentrating very, very, hard on a recent photograph of him.

This concentrating very, very, hard on photographs is a psychic trick. Sometimes, the really good telly psychics don't even have to turn the photograph over. No, they can feel ... stuff emanating through the photograph.

It is true that I am envious of such a trick. Think what a hit you'd be at parties.

Anyway, had I concentrated not very hard on a photo of Rodney, I might have been able to tell you that he was going to appear on Dancing with the Stars because he has lost so much weight that even his head seems to have shrunk. (Also, it was the telly world's worst-kept secret.)

This is a strange phenomenon in itself, given that to go on a show with a name which includes the word star must mean that you think a bit of yourself. Either that or your party's profile is shrinking along with your waistline.

That is not a very respectful thing to say, and no doubt somebody will write in to say I should have more respect for the living, the dead and for alleged stars.

But I can't help but say something quite rude about Top of the Class in which we are subjected to the spectacle of Louise Wallace in a gym frock.

"That's the most stupidest idea of the century, voting for Matthew Ridge," said one of the "celeb's" little buddies.


No, Louise Wallace going on telly in a gym frock is one of the most stupidest ideas of the century.