The Finale / "Spunk and Balls"

So, the finale - or should I say anti-climax (no that's not something rude involving your parents' sisters) - this evening.

Of course, I already know which of The Incapables (as I like to call them) has won and I'll give nothing away, but will say that neither the über-orange Kristina or that feckless mummy's boy, Simon, strike me as deserving of anything beyond middle-management obscurity. They simply lack the spunk and balls required to really make it in business. I know all about spunk and balls - having both in abundance.

Will I watch the show with any regret, troubling myself that I made my exit a week too early, that I was hoist by my own petard?

Hardly.

When Simon is back where he belongs - pretending to be an internet whiz, but surfing for smut all day long no doubt as his mortgage-payers snooze on his sofa - and Kristina implodes under the strain of life well outside her league, I'll probably be signing my latest contract with Sky One - probably the only station who can afford me.

Rah!