A study of Britain’s most loved and loathed brands has just come out, coinciding nicely with the latest round of Big Brother. The Borkowski poet in residence has taken this coincidence and run with it.
I went on Big Brother to be famous and cool
but found myself portrayed as a tedious fool
who couldn’t tell elbow from pillow-like arse
and whose brain was a bauble made out of glass.
I should have known better – I’ve seen it before
One is always portrayed as a vacuous whore
or a bling-obsessed retard with no social graces.
Any signs of intelligence, the producer erases.
I went on Big Brother to become a brand name
but found myself subjected to fear and shame.
Trotting through trite games, I was Channel 4’s poodle –
in branding terms I became a Pot Noodle.
I thought I’d do better, be a Persil at least
but no-one, it seems, trusts a media beast
who wants to famous ‘cause there’s nowt else to do.
Now I’ve flushed my street cred straight down the loo.
I went on Big Brother to be bigger than Google
but I wish I’d stayed home and learned to be frugal,
let my dreams of brief fame go into remission
until the chance came along to be a politician.