“Gender ratio” is a term that gets frequently used on this blog and other WAM sites. To those of us who are into WAM and not bisexual, the gender of the person being wammed is the singularly most crucial consideration of a scene. As such, the gender ratio of a show or event is an important measure of its WAM value. As I shall demonstrate in this post, statements about a show’s gender ratio can encapsulate a lot of joy and bitterness.

However, without methodically counting all the messings that occur, gender ratio can be hard to judge. Being fans of female WAM, we usually disregard the male scenes and focus on the female scenes, so there is a tendency to get a rose-tinted perspective of the gender balance. On the other hand, if a particular female escape really riles us, we might imagine the gender ratio to be worse than it really it is.

That said, the trend is pretty unmistakable in many cases, and I’ve decided to document some examples of the good, the bad and the ugly, and explore some of the cultural elements behind the gender balance. Warning: this piece gets a bit rantilicious in places, so if you’re after a peaceful Sunday read, you won’t find it here.

All Female

Few things in life are more pleasing than a messy show that only features women. Of course, in the West, such a thing is unthinkable, but if we look East we can find plenty of examples, mostly in the form of Idol shows such as Muscat DX/SP!, AKBingo!, and Idoling!!!

The Ebisu Muscats – a truly flawless line-up.

In terms of the WAMees they feature, these WAM shows are the greatest on Earth. Those in line for the mess are not only all female, but are also unfailingly young (ok, a bit too young in some cases) and stunning. If we want to split hairs we can find the odd occurrence when a male gets messy – for example, the guy who presents Idoling once took part in a paper-scissors-stone game and got pied, and on Muscat SP a cameraman was pied for supposedly having a relationship with one of the Muscats (lucky feller) – so the gender balance is actually 99% rather than 100%, but only a real pedant would hold that against the shows.

My only real gripe is that the producers need to realise that dry flour isn’t that great a WAM substance – some gunge wouldn’t go amiss.

More females than males

Myleene was a historic victory for Team Female WAM.

After routine disappointment from certain other CBBC shows (see below), the introduction of gunge to Live and Kicking brought a very welcome change of fortune. Most of the victims on “The Kid Gets It” were girls (yes, I know many were underage, but before you assemble the lynch mob, bear in mind that I was a teenage boy myself at the time, so wanting to see teenage girls get gunged was the most natural thing in the world). Out of the celebrities who got gunged, most were female: Myleene Klass (an epic voting victory), Suzanne Shaw, Sunetra Sarkar, Angelica Bell, Lesley Waters, Catherine Merry, Victoria Hawkins, and Elle (who?) from Supersister (who?). The only guys I can think of were Lee from Blue and Ben from A1, but there may have been others I have overlooked.

Then of course there was the gunge day vote that went favourably for us, the second gunging of Sarah Cahwood in “The Leakiest Sink”, and the time when Gary Lucy vacated the tank in order to stitch-up Heather Suttie (an event that is still whinged about on male WAM sites).

Another show in which the mess was disproportionately received by women (mainly one woman in particular) was Ministry of Mayhem (and later Holly and Stephen’s Saturday Showdown). As this video by Bishop Berkley testfies, Holly was gunged over 50 times on the show, and I reckon she appeared on Thank You Desk more times than Stephen and Michael put together.

And I’d like to thank the producers who make me do this every flipping week…

The producers clearly marketed Holly’s messings as “one for the lads and dads” – i.e. aimed at titillating an older male audience. For this reason, very thin gunge was used to provide mainstream appeal (aside from the other reason that ITV simply can’t make decent gunge).

Roughly equal

Game shows feature prominently in this category, since they tend to be neutral on gender and not have any cultural bias. The pie round of Passa ou Repassa, which alternates between female-female and male-male pairings, is a good example of a show with a nearly exact 50-50 balance.

Passa ou Repassa – great female-on-female action but you have to skip past the male pairings each time.

Fewer females than males

A while back, in a piece weighing up the case that Noel Edmonds is a wammer, I estimated that the gender ratio on NESR/NHP was about fifty-fifty. After seeing all the male gungings on DancingDuade’s channel, I now realise that I was overoptimistic; a more realistic estimate would be at least two men gunged to every female.

Noel gave us some great moments, but the overall balance could have been better.

I think part of the reason for the poor gender ratio was the “punishment” nature of many of the gungings. There were plenty of men gunged for being “lousy husbands”, but surprise surprise, I don’t recall a single “lousy wife” being gunged (ok, I won’t get started on the whole PC thing…). There was, however, the wonderfully medieval spectacle of a “vain daughter” gunging, so NHP deserves credit where it is due.

Part of the reason I overestimated the gender ratio of NHP is that it is still quite favourable compared with another well-known show…

DBP: So, Child A, who do you want get your own back on?

Child A: My gorgeous sister.

DBP: And Child B, who do you want get your own back on?

Child B: My grotty old dad.

We all know what follows, don’t we?

And as for you, Lisa… you get to stay nice and clean, just like most of the women who appear on this show.

GYOB officially stands for “Get Your Own Back”, but I feel that “Gunge Yet anOther Bloke” would be more fitting. Fortunes varied from series to series, and there were occasional victories such as Kirsten O’Brien over the late Mark Speight, but generally the gender ratio ranged from “terrible” to “abysmal”.

Most galling of all was the series in the autumn of 1998, which started off well with the Miss McGuinness gunging, but then, to my knowledge, produced no further female gungings (I know that a few of you are GYOB statsmen, so maybe you can confirm this). Even worse, this was not for want of a string of stunning sisters and babysitters appearing on the show, but they all smugly escaped.

As a teenager at the height of puberty, Wednesday afternoons were a weekly kick in the guts. Two decades on, I still feel sick when I think about it, and I haven’t entirely forgiven DBP.

And we won’t even mention Lisa Brockwell…

All male

I can’t actually think of many shows that fall into this category, but I think this is due to blotting them out of my head rather than their not existing. One that does come to mind is the “Models and Buckets” segment on the Jimmy Fallon Show, in which a dozen elegantly-dressed stunners pose with buckets of slop… and then pour it over the head of some hapless schmuck (think Buzzy Business but more PC). I guess it appeals to that peculiar WAM subculture of straight guys who like to see women gunging men, but it’s the last thing I want to see.

Models and Buckets… but not in a combination we’d like.

Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls, Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls. Ed Balls – Ed Balls Ed Balls – Ed Balls Ed Balls. Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls:

Ed Balls—
Ed Balls (@edballsmp) April 28, 2011

Ed Balls, Ed Balls Ed Balls, Ed Balls Ed Balls; Ed Balls Ed Balls Ed Balls.

Ed Ⓑⓐⓛⓛⓢ.

Let’s get away from some politician and whinging over men getting messed when women could easily have copped it and instead look at summat a bit different from Weebl’s Stuff. As far as I’m aware, this is the only song that I’m aware of that actually outright addresses the WAM fetish in the lyrics. Maybe it doesn’t, though, since Weebl is known for his rather odd lyrics. Besides, I don’t think I’ve heard of Marmite, Bovril, pickles, chutney, rice, a pasty and marmalade being used for WAM before (though most of them seem possible). Anyway, take a listen to this track: “Sexual Marmite”.

However!

I’d like us to delve into German industrial music for a moment. This is Formalin, with a track called “My Fetish”. Never in the song is it said what their fetish is. However, with two female models (oh, and the singer and drummer) getting covered in black goo, I think I might work it out…

So what would becoming a militant cat involve anyway?

Regardless, I’d love to see more singers talk about WAM in their lyrics. I made an opinion piece over on my blog about it. Go take a look. It won’t hurt, I promise!

This story is purely a work of fiction. It does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence. In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

This is the first in what I hope will be a regular series of stories, and is also my first WAM story ever—please give any feedback because I would love to have it! It’s a bit of a long one, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Also, so you know, who advances after each round was chosen by a random number generator, so none of it was predetermined from round to round. Any of the girls could have won. Enjoy!

“Hello, and welcome to…THREE! COURSE! MEAL!”

Thunderous applause greeted Nelson Meddo, host of Three Course Meal. He smiled and waved genially to the crowd.

“Yes, everyone, it’s Three Course Meal—where four contestants compete to make it to the end of a three course dinner—but be warned, as they’ll be eliminated one by one. Shall we meet today’s contestants?” The audience’s cheers replied that they should. “Okay, then give it up for our first contestant…Christa!”

Christa came out—she, like all of the contestants, was a pale young woman in her mid-twenties. Christa had a slender frame and long brown hair. Her small but pert breasts were framed nicely by her light blue t-shirt, while a pair of denim shorts beautifully showed off her long legs and killer ass. She waved half-heartedly to the audience. It wasn’t that she was nervous, but she wasn’t too thrilled to be here either. It was just that she was badly in need of cash. She didn’t know much about the show, but had heard that the contestants tended to get messy. Very messy. But Christa didn’t mind—she had lots of experience in the use of sarcasm, and a sort of dry wit which put her above humility. She knew of a few guys at university who might give her a hard time for this, or maybe even be turned on, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to get that prize.

“Next up, we have Vicky!”

Vicky was, in a word, gorgeous. She had long, natural blonde hair and a finely-her toned body that let her be thin, but with plenty of curves. The audience cheered wildly for the stunning blonde in her white shirt and she flashed a winning smile. Her only non-traditional flaw was a prominent birthmark on her right cheek—an imperfection which only made her seem more beautiful.

“Then, there’s  Sofia!”

Sofia was thin with long black hair, which nicely complimented her olive skin. Like the others, she was dressed in denim shorts and a t-shirt—hers was pink, and she had tied it up so that her midriff was showing. Although this was her favorite styles, she immediately regretted it when she heard the wolf-whistles from the crowd. She blushed and took her place with the rest of the contestants.

“And, last but not least, give it up for Ellen!”

Ellen ran out of the gate in her green shirt and began high-fiving those in the first row of the audience.  A little bit on the heavier side, Ellen had boundless energy, large breasts, and short, dirty-blonde hair.  This was her favorite show, and she was excited to be here. She needed the money, yes, but she would have gone on this show for free—she had always wanted to try it.

APPETIZER

“So,” said the charming host “Shall we give one more round of applause for our contestants?” The audience obliged. “Okay, now shall we see what the appetizer course of our dinner is going to be?” Everyone’s attention turned towards a giant screen and, to thunderous applause, a single word flashed up on the screen: “SOUP”

“That’s right, folks, the appetizer of the day is soup.” Said Nelson, beaming. “Ladies, if you’d like to come with me…” They followed him to what looked like a four-lane bowling alley, only there were no pins—instead, a large nozzle and a big red button stood at the end of each lane.

“Now, ladies, this game is a simple one. All you have to do is make it to the end of the alley and press the button. Simple enough, but you might be wondering what those nozzles are for? Well, they’re going to be shooting out…you guessed it…our appetizer of the day! Soup! So, you have to fight the pressure of the soup shooting out at you to get to the end of the alley!”

“Wait, what?” said Christa “There’s going to be soup spraying at us!” The audience laughed.

“That’s right!” said the host with a wicked smile. “And the first three to push their button will advance to the entrée round where another messy course awaits! Now, how about we take our places! On your mark, get set…go!”

At Nelson’s cry of “Go,” the nozzles started spraying powerful streams of soup—each girl had a different type of soup. Christa was hit with a spray of New England clam chowder, Vicky had split pea, Sofia had thick Greek avgolemono soup, and Ellen was treated to bright purple borscht. It became clear to all three girls that this was not going to be easy, as there was no way around the stream of oncoming soup. Furthermore, the stream was so strong that there was no hiding anything from the soup—it surrounded them from all angles. Vicky, covered in thick green soup, pushed forward and gasped as the soup entered through the top of her shirt and coated her body underneath.  She looked around and saw that she had the lead—the others were still sputtering at the start line. She pushed forward. Ellen was the next to start—she tried to rush into the stream of borscht, but was knocked down by the force—wiping thick purple soup from her face. She grinned—this was awesome. Sofia had started on the track too—shrieking as the thick yellow soup entered through her shorts and matted her hair.

Christa had yet to start. It wasn’t the soup itself throwing her off—it was the smell of fish. She had expected to get messy, but the fish smell was a bit too much. Suddenly, she heard a ringing sound.

“Congratulations, Vicky, you are the first to hit your button and are advancing to the entrée round!”

That was enough to snap Christa out of it—she really needed that money, so she pushed forward into the stream of chowder. Vicky, meanwhile, was dripping with split pea soup—covered from head to toe. She wiped it off of her face and chest and waved genially to the audience, before being taken offstage to get cleaned up. Not soon afterwards, Sofia hit her button. The sticky yellow soup had plastered down her short, so that it clung perfectly to her toned body. She went off to get cleaned up.

Due to Christa’s late start, Ellen had a bit of a lead, but with determination, Christa began running. In a photo-finish, she managed to push her button just before Ellen. As both streams of soup stopped, Christa looked around and saw that she had advanced! The smell of fish didn’t even bother her now. She was just happy to be onto the entrée course, and knew that whatever was in store, it couldn’t be as bad as clam chowder. She was unrecognizable under the thick white goop, and needed assistance getting offstage to get cleaned up, as she was slipping around too much.

“That means that Vicky, Sofia, and Christa are going onto the entrée round and, unfortunately, Ellen, you are out,” said Nelson as the audience let out a big awwww. “But, we hope you enjoyed your experience, Ellen.”

“Are you kidding? This was great!” said Ellen, wiping most of the purple soup from her face. “How many times can you say that you have been covered in borscht? It was a great experience!”

“Well, since you enjoyed yourself so much, we thought we’d let you leave with a parting gift,” said Nelson slyly. “In most cultures, borscht is usually eaten with some sour cream…” and with that, Ellen shrieked as two stage hands poured thick sour cream over the already-messy girl. She looked up and out up her arms in victory, as the crowd went wild.

“Let’s give it up for the lovely Ellen—what a great sport!” yelled Nelson as Ellen left the stage to cheers.

ENTRÉE

“Now, we still have three more contestants, and two more courses to go. Shall we begin the entrée round?” The audience went wild, and the three remaining contestants walked out. They had been thoroughly showered and given new shirts and shorts. “And the entrée course is…” Nelson paused and gestured towards the big board, which demonstrated the word “PASTA.” As the audience cheered,  Nelson led the three girls over to three booths, upon which there were multiple colored pegs.

“Now, here’s how this game works,” said the devilish host. “You will have to figure out a code, a la the board game Mastermind. The first two to solve the code advance to the entrée course.” He paused. The girls looked confused. Could that be it? Was there no mess involved? And what did this have to do with pasta? Sofia thought about saying something to see if there had been a mistake, but then reconsidered. She wasn’t too eager to get messy again. The host counted down and the girls began solving the code.

Christa knew she would excel at this game—She still smelled like fish, but she had gotten used to is by now and nothing would break her concentration. Vicky, too, was confident. With her good looks, people often underestimated her intelligence. But, Sofia was less than confident. She had never played Mastermind before and didn’t have much of a strategy. Rather than using the clues from her previous guesses to inform her next move, she was just putting random pegs in an order and hoping for the best.  Suddenly, Sofia heard a dinging sound and looked up to see that Christa had solved the puzzle. Christa put her arms up triumphantly in victory—happy to be in the dessert round…when suddenly, a healthy stream of marinara sauce cascaded down from below. Not expecting it, Christa had been looking up at the time, and the bright red tomato sauce hit her square in the face and went down her shirt. In instinct, she turned her head away, and her hair took the brunt of the sauce, which coated the top of her head and rolled down her neck, splattering against her legs.

“Well done, Christa, you’re moving onto the next round,” said the host, “and I hope you enjoyed our little surprise treat for the winner!” Christa exited the stage to get cleaned up for the dessert round.

Vicky was feeling confident—she was very close to solving the code—she was just two codes or so away. Then, all of a sudden she heard the dreaded dinging noise. Sofia had lucked out—in putting down random codes, she had managed to find the right one. Sofia couldn’t believe it when she realized she’d won, and then braced herself when she realized what that meant. Closing her eyes, she tensed and got ready for the marinara sauce. Sure enough, she heard the crowd cheer and felt warm gunge hit her head and begin to roll down her pretty face. When she opened her eyes, however, she saw that her arms were not coated with red sauce as she had expected, but creamy green pesto. She looked up, pouting, and went off to get cleaned up for the final course. Nelson, meanwhile, went over to Vicky.

“Vicky, you played a great game—and were so close! Sofia really caught a lucky break there.”

“I know,” she said “I really thought I had it—I was so close!”

“Well, it was wonderful having you here, isn’t that right, folks?” The audience cheered and Vicky smiled and took a little bow. “But, you know,” said Nelson “It’s a shame for us to waste all of the sauce above you, and an even bigger shame for you to leave here so clean, so…” Before Vicky could react, Nelson had leapt out of the way and Vicky was treated to a shower of alfredo sauce. It covered her gorgeous blonde hair as her face was a perfect picture of shock. As the audience cheered, she thought that maybe she should give them what they wanted, so she looked up and let the alfredo sauce hit her face and neck. The audience roared, and Vicky left the stage to uproarious applause.

DESSERT

“It’s time for the final course, and my personal favorite, dessert!” said the host, as Christa and Sofia came out in new shorts and shirts. “And because you are our final two, I think it’s only fair that you, perhaps, lighten your load.” Christa and Sofia looked at him perplexedly. “That means it’s time for those shirts and shorts to go, ladies.”

Sofia sighed. She wasn’t happy about it, and was still embarrassed, but at this point she figured she’d already been humiliated. She stripped to her underwear—a slightly shimmery golden bra and underwear. That looked great against her skintone. Christa was more resistant.

“No way,” she said “I didn’t agree to this!”

“Actually, you did,” said Nelson, teasingly. “It’s in your contract.” Christa stammered. She knew she should have read that thing more carefully. And she definitely didn’t want to forfeit when she was so close.

“I just wish I’d worn different underwear” she said, and as she stripped, the audience could see why. She was wearing a matching leopard print bra and thong. At the host’s insistence, she turned around, giving the audience a view of her great posterior. More than ever, she knew that the guys at school would be eating this up.

“And the dessert course is…TRIFLE!” With this, the girls were brought to a platform. The game was simple, they had to answer questions—for each question they answered correctly, another layer of trifle would be added. The trifle would be complete after five correct answers.  Christa won the coin toss and got to go first. She answered her question correctly—“A great way to start the game,” Nelson said. From the platform, a nozzle appeared and sprayed Christa with sticky raspberry gelatin. It hit her on the collarbone, spraying all over her chest, face and hair. The gelatin was bright red against her pale skin. Sofia answered her question correctly too, and met the same fate. She felt her hair and thought “This is going to take forever to get this out.”

Christa got her next question wrong, but Sofia got her right. Fruit compote rained down, coating Sofia’s head and body in red and purple juice. Sofia’s tall slender legs dripped with the sweet, thick juice.

Christa answered her next question correctly and new her fate, bracing herself for the fall of compote, which hit her directly in the chest and dripped down to her stomach. But, Christa didn’t care. She just wanted the money at this point and was happy the game was tied up. But, Sofia got her next question right.

“What do you think is coming next, Sofia?” asked the host.

“I don’t know…something awful,” the girl replied, and was treated to a shower of thick yellow custard. The crowd went wild. Her beautifully tan skin was a perfect canvas for the yellow confection. It hit her in the top of the head, but there was so much, that it cascaded down like a waterfall, coating her face nicely. Soon, she was covered in yellow goop, with little streaks of red and purple from the gelatin and compote slipping through. She wiped the thickest bits of custard off of her face, stomach, chest and legs.

Christa got her next question right and soon was similarly covered in custard. She was surprised to learn that she actually enjoyed this—maybe it was that the smell was not as bad, but she far preferred the custard to the clam chowder and the garlicky tomato sauce. In fact, Christa found something almost soothing about the coating of custard in which she now found herself. Her happiness continued when Sofia got the next question wrong—they were tied up again.

Christa’s luck continued when she got the next question right too. Sticky, thick batter dripped down on her from above.

“What is this?!” she asked, not recognizing it from anything that would be in trifle.

“It’s sponge cake!” laughed Nelson gleefully. “Of course, we may have forgotten to cook it.” Christa playfully wiped the batter off of her hair and body and flung it at the audience. She was enjoying herself now. Sofia got her question correct and was treated to the same coating of cake batter. They were now just one question away from winning.

Christa was asked her question, and her face fell. It was a science question, and she knew nothing about science. She got it wrong, and had to hope that Sofia wouldn’t know her question either. Unfortunately for Christa, Sofia knew her answer and answered with a huge smile. As she answered, there was a loud ringing.

“Congratulations, Sofia, are the only contestant to finish you Three Course Meal! You’re today’s winner! And now, it’s time for the final layer of your trifle. Whipped cream!”

Sofia braced herself for her final gunging, but none came. She opened her eyes and saw that the stagehands were wheeling out a giant hose.

“Christa, you may not have won, but we thought we’d give you a chance to get your final revenge on Sofia. Would you like to do the honors?”

Christa was disappointed to not win the money, and she knew her friends would give her a lot of grief for not winning (and for getting messy in her underwear on national television), but she figured that she might as well enjoy her consolation prize. With relish, she went over the hose and aimed it at her competitor.

“No, please…” stammered Sofia, but it was too late.  Whipped cream sprayed out and coated the beautiful young woman. Christa moved the hose up and down so that Sofia would be hit from head to toe. To shield herself, Sofia, turned around, exposing her back, and Christa was all too happy to get that coated too—aiming at Sofia’s nicely-shaped ass first and foremost. The hose finally started to die down, out of whipped cream. Sofia was a sight to see. She was absolutely unrecognizable under her coat of whipped cream. Seeing some whipped cream on the ground, and not wanting to miss out on the fun, Christa picked up the whipped cream in her hands, and shoved it in her pretty face, getting a good facial covering. The crowd was going wild. Their cheers were so loud that they could hardly hear Nelson Meddo as he shouted “Join us next time on…THREE COURSE MEAL!”

Thanks to Byron, and I’m especially grateful because it’s the first time I’ve been able to see this long-overdue messing of Helen. (There isn’t sound.)

Torrent

Reposted from Himajin’s blog, where you can also find stills, here is AKB48′s Yuko Oshima (大島 優子) having pies thrown and smeared on her at a special videoshoot. Fantastic scene.

Torrent

Jerry Springer has never featured to the same level as Richard Bey, but it isn’t squeaky clean either. Here is a compilation of food fights from the show. Most of the participants are either very large or very small.

Clip of the pie game where the aim is not to laugh. Recognise the presenter?

Thanks to @raonidamota. A woman in a bikini (of course she’s in a bikini – it’s Brazil) gets an ‘ovada’.

While the much-revered Studio 3 is in Australia, Studio 2 is in New Zealand (so I guess Studio 1 is in Fiji?). Here are the presenters performing a pie parody.

Incidentally this channel is well worth checking out. There are a few rare clips here from a diverse range of countries.

Disclaimer: Although this story mentions real persons, corporations, TV shows and places, it is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and should NOT be taken to accurately portray any real entity mentioned. In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

There hasn’t been a story been written in a while, especially a celebrity one so here I go I am going to write one.

“Welcome to another gunge nation with me your host Ryan Priddle and on tonight’s show we have a bevy of beauty’s from the soap Emmerdale, so let introduce them one by one shall we, the top 7 will receive a naked gunging and the 7 with the least amount of votes will get to stay clothed and gunge the other 7, first up is Sammy Winward”.

“So Sammy how do you think you will fare in the vote”.

“Well Ryan having already been gunged I think I will escape the gunge”.

“Thanks Sammy, now time to meet our second lady and that lady is Isabel Hodgins”.

“So Isabel how are you feeling about a potential naked gunging”.

“Well Ryan I am not entirely thrilled about it, I just hope the public shows some mercy and I manage to escape”.

“Thanks Isobel, now lets meet our third lady and that lady is Natalie J Robb”.

“So Natalie your thought please”.

“Well Ryan having a relationship with the bad boy in the soap means i could be in a lot of trouble here but I certainly hope that is not the case”.

“Thanks Natalie, now time to meet our fourth lady Charley Webb”.

“So Charley how do you feel”.

“Well Ryan having already once been fictionally gunged on this site I hope I will be spared but I feel the public will like to see me publicly humiliated due to the character I play”.

“Thanks Charley now let’s move onto our lovely fifth lady, who is Lucy Pargeter”.

“So Lucy how are you feeling”.

“Well Ryan being one of the older ladies on the show I hope the voting public will have mercy on me, but due to what I have done on the soap I fear the worse”.

“Thanks Lucy, now time to meet lovely lady number six Chelsea Halfpenny”.

“So Chelsea do you think you will escape”.

“Yes Ryan I do feel, that I will escape with my dignity intact”.

“Thanks Chelsea, now onto number 7 Fiona Wade”.

“So Fiona your thoughts please”.

“Well Ryan I think the public will be kind to me and allow me to keep my dignity”.

“Thanks Fiona, now we are into the second half of ladies and number 8 is Zoe Henry”.

“Zoe your thought’s”.

“Like Lucy said being one of the older ladies will hopefully mean I will be able to get away clean”.

“Thanks Zoe, now onto lady number nine Charlotte Bellamy”.

“

“Charlotte your thoughts please”.

“I just don’t want to get messy and certainly don’t want to take my clothes off”.

“Thanks Charlotte now onto lady number 10 who is Sian Reese-Williams”.

“Sian your thought’s please”.

“Well Ryan being one of the character’s that has never really got into trouble or done anything really nasty i think I will escape”.

“Thanks Sian onto lady 11 Emma Atkins”.

“Emma your thought’s please”.

“Well Ryan being a bitch through out my years on Emmerdale, I am a bit worried that I could be in serious trouble of getting a naked gunging”.

“Thanks Emma now onto lady number 12 who is Natalie Anderson”.

“Natalie your thought’s well Ryan having already escaped one fictional gunging at your hands and doing time in Emmerdale I think I could be in real danger here and I don’t really want to be”.

“Thanks Natalie onto the  lady who is number thirteen and she is Nicola Wheeler”.

“Nicola your thought’s please”

“Well Ryan I think I will escape as the other ladies will just get more votes than me”.

“Thanks Nicola now onto our fourteenth which is Gaynor Faye”.

“So Gaynor your thoughts”.

“Well Ryan I think I will manage to escape the mess”.

“Thanks Gaynor, now onto our penultimate lady and number fifteen and that is Gemma Oaten”.

“Gemma your thoughts please”.

“Well Ryan I am just hoping to escape but with my recent story-lines I can’t see it happening”.

Thanks Gemma and onto our final lady number 16 Michelle Hardwick who if you didn’t know plays vet Vanessa Woodfield”.

“Michelle your thoughts please”.

“Well Ryan being new and not many people knowing me I should be able to escape your mess”.

“Thanks Michelle”.

“There you have it 16 ladies from Emmerdale only 8 can get the naked gunging you decide who”.

The results will be written one day next week when i know when I am and not working so I have a free day to write the story.

Happy Star Wars day!!

Wetlook and underwater shots in this Crystal Maze style game show. The scene is inset for much of the time, but at least the clip is in HD, giving a reasonable resolution. The lady featured is Mariko Shinoda of AKB48.

Torrent

Posted on the Finds page, but it deserves to go here too because of its great importance. A lot of people have waited a long time for this scene to materialise, and it’s thanks to DancingDuade for uploading it and GrandMasterJellyTot for alerting us.

Laura is a policewoman who embarrassed her daughter (though not by arresting her, as previously speculated). Wearing shorts but sadly also socks, a very enthusiastic dunkee, diving in with gusto and even turning her face up to the downpour of gunge.

So that’s another Holy Grail ticked off the list. That leaves big sister Roxy as the main remaining scene (and Zoë Ball, if that really ever happened ).

It appears we let an important centenary slip past us. 1^st May 1913 was the release date of what is widely cited as the first on-screen pie in the face of a female. The female in question was of course Mabel Normand, and the film was “The Ragtime Band”.

You can see the entire thing here. Of course, it’s a silent movie, so please accompany with music of your choice. The pieing is at 10:28, but it really isn’t very impressive (doesn’t stick at all). Still, from little acorns and all that. As some recompense there is also deployment of the water hose.

Note: I previously posted another, better pieing of Mabel Normand (where she sticks her head through a window and gets pied) under the title of “The Ragtime Band”, but it seems I misidentified it. That scene, incidentally, has now gone from YouTube, and a quick search on my computer hasn’t turned it up.

So, here’s to another century of pie in the face, and to wondering what WAM will be like in 2113…

Thanks to Slimecore Author for shedding a bit of light on this.

“It’s the shizNICK” is an art show dedicated to 1990s-era Nickelodeon, complete with green slimings! Here is an image gallery from the event. Here’s the highlights, from a female-preferring WAMmer’s perspective.

There was also a nice montage of the events, including a couple of slimy seconds at 0:20, as well as a few overhead shots of a sliming towards the end.

And this video.

And the pic that got Slimecore and I to start digging:

Sadly, there doesn’t seem to be much else, as nice as this little lot is. :/

It’s her first day on the job, and no time is wasted inducting her in the post-match traditions…