Like shooting fish in a barrel

They may be filthy rich but are they really happy?

One of the subjects of Young, Posh and Loaded (TV2, 10.30 tonight) maintains she is neither posh, nor loaded. This is Victoria Aitken, daughter of the perjuring British politician, Jonathan Aitken.

She was posh, and Daddy used to be loaded, but that all changed when he went to the clink.

And now Victoria, who was also arrested for lying for Daddy, wants to be a rap artist.

You don't know whether to weep or to fall off the couch laughing.

Neither did the rappers at the open-mic night Victoria went along to. This was either a brave thing to do, or completely deluded.

She gained bravery points for attempting to make Britney (as in Spears) rhyme with "kill me". Then again, no. Deluded it was.

Victoria, the voiceover told us, believed that "her walk on the wrong side of the law has given her the street cred to be a rapper".

Poor Victoria, she is quite right on one account: she is certainly not rich in talent.

A sample rap: "Now I'm kind of skint/Can't even afford a mint."

So far, so barking.

But these rich kids are such easy targets that watching it (as making it must have been) is like shooting fish in a barrel.

As well as the the formerly rich Victoria - we're not told how skint she really is - there is the nouveau rich, attempting-to-be-nouveau posh Lord Raj of Berkshire. Lord Raj has never actually been to Berkshire. He bought his title for around 20,000 quid.

He spends much of his time in his two-million quid mansion in Essex, bought from a porn baron. He has not changed the decor; the shagpile is intact.

Lord Raj made his money young, in property, although obviously not in interior design. He is on the look-out for a partner; he reckons he's a catch, what with his title and his money. He is also thinking about hiring a cook.

Both partner and cook will have to measure up because "he maintains the highest standards in all parts of his life".

We are told this while watching Lord Raj watching a Weight Watchers cottage pie rotating in his microwave. He's pretty fussy, you see.

If you have a can of baked beans in the cupboard, why not, he says, take the time to turn the label to the front.

If he ever loses his money, he could get a job stacking shelves in a supermarket.

There is Donatella, who wants to be famous and whose father despairs that if she just keeps shopping she'll kill herself, eventually.

He bought her a 45,000-quid customised Mini for her first car. It came with a fridge and a PlayStation.

The add-ons were designed by a man wearing a fur coat who looked like an ailing rock star. He might have been interesting.

Fil the party girl isn't very interesting even when she gets very drunk and talks filth.

She is going to Ecuador to look after poor children in her gap year. Her first choice was to look after the baby orang-utans in Malaysia, and the elephants. But the timing was out and "my mother wants me out of the house".

The sorts of parties Fil goes to are put on by Jonny, the son of a Harley St doctor who milks his posh, loaded peers by charging them exorbitant amounts to attend his private bashes.

Those peers pay 20 quid just to join his club, and then hundreds more to get smashed on Cristal.

"You'd have to be a f***ing w****** to do so," says the delightful Jonny.

He obviously holds the posh-and-loaded with contempt. As do the series makers.

Bang, bang - there goes another fish in a barrel.

Haven't we - and everyone involved - got some better things to do?

Why, there are some poor little children in Ecuador who are going to need some serious help, very soon.