[Omah]

http://www.mirror.co.uk/celebs/colum...#ixzz1biJ5v5ka

Jordan’s latest venture is a soulless, pernicious affair, even for her.

Signed By Katie Price follows her searching to sign someone to “her new talent management” firm, gloriously oblivious of the fact none of the contestants has any talent.

“With. My. Expertise... I. Will. Get. Them. To. The. Top,” she read off the autocue with difficulty, as if the weight of the collagen in her slug-like lips made it hard for them to move.

Last week’s auditions took part in a shopping centre with what looked like dozens of pounds spent on the set.

This week was “boot camp” (where does she get these brilliant ideas from?).

First, though, the characteristically coarse revelation: “I’ve been thinking. Some of the people we put through look minging” – something we could have told her (only more articulately/sensitively).

So, FIFTEEN of the excited, young hopefuls who had only just arrived were immediately sent home.

TV producer Glen Middleham (one of the two “judges” assisting her) told the poor saps that, far from being heartless, the judges’ had been “too generous” by putting them through.

“Your dream is over,” Jordan droned at them, adding, like a miserable holiday rep: “The bus is there. Please now make your way back on it.”

The hypocrisy of her assessments was so brazen it was hard to tell whether she had outrageous chutzpah or was just so thick she didn’t realise.

She told one 18-year-old she was “fake” and another she was wearing too much make-up.

This from a woman constructed from boob jobs and plastic surgery, covered in layers of make-up and fake tan, and wearing the hair of several Indian villages.

“If she was on a beach in a natural swimwear shoot, I would think ‘What the hell is that?’” she sneered coarsely about another hapless fan.

Bizarrely, the second person listed in the show’s credits was a “psychologist”. Whether this was for Jordan, the contestants, or the viewers, though, is anyone’s guess.

Signed By Katie Price may be one of the worst programmes ever made but Peter Andre: My Life was arguably worse.

“Peter Andre is BACK!” thrilled the narrator, even though he has not (regrettably) been away long since his last ITV2 show.

My Life provided us with the chance to see “how Pete copes with the ups and downs of life in the spotlight” (a spotlight caused mostly by programmes on ITV2) and how he also “juggles fame and fatherhood”.

Dealing with a wasp, for example, necessitated Pete being labelled “Superdad”.

It was a full 20 seconds before we saw his children – apart from Harvey, who the narrator admitted coldly: “We can’t show for legal reasons.”

The show also served as one long advert for his manager.

“Claire’s different from most managers. She organises,” Pete sighed in wonder for the benefit of any potential clients watching – failing to mention you do have to sell your soul (and your kids) to ITV2.

Watching him meet a 13-year-old cancer patient and hearing her dad say how much she loved Pete and his kids just made you feel tawdry*.

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