It's been a long confusing week in the house. So confusing, in fact, that I hardly know who I actually want out of the house.

Charley is getting worse yet better, in that she is now a parody of herself. Keep her in I say.

Billi would just be too easy. He's a rat of a housemate, preening himself in the mirror at every opportunity.

For a while, I was certain I wanted Carole out. I voted for her last week -- instead of Seány -- but since then we've had the Great Revolt (as it will forever be known), with Carole's Braveheart moment.

You may take our food...but you'll never take our freeeeedommmm!

Inevitably, Big Brother has taken both. Ha.

So who does that leave?

Jonathan? No, I like him. He blissfully insults people at will. He doesn't care if he's hated outside the house. His career is more successful than anything Big Brother could ever give him.

Gerry? I did him last week, so no.

Wait, I've got it.

Laura.

She spends her days slobbing about in that leopard-skin dressing gown that looks so grim you wouldn't let your own dog sleep in it. To top it off, she'll spend extensive periods of the day with those sleeping blinkers on top of her head as if they were sunglasses.

She entered the house as a bubbly and jolly character, but will leave a lazy and grumpy one.

"I'm Laura, I'm fun, I'm the only welsh one!" she sang with such conviction, as her nose extended the length of the Big Bro garden.

If she slobs around any more, they'll have to remove her from the house in traditional Henry the 8th style -- with a crane.

Get her out!

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