I TOOK the unusual step of video taping GMTV last week, and I never thought I'd admit that in a newspaper, so don't tell anyone I know.

For weeks now, they've been billing the Eamonn Holmes v David Blaine re-match.

This was in between endless adverts for Best Christmas Hits Ever (Part Two???) and The Greatest Christmas Hits Of Someone Who Used To Be Famous But Now Only Dusts Off His Mic To Cash In At Chrimbo.

Don't you, Sir Cliff?

In case you didn't know, Eamonn Holmes was a bit peeved with David Blaine because he appeared on the GM TV sofa in August 2001, and didn't really have a lot to say for himself.

This was when Blaine was staking his claim for the title of World Celebrity Weirdo, a position largely unfilled since David Icke recovered from his Turquoise tracksuit and "Ey, I'm the Son of God, me," period.

The Holmes v Blaine re-match wasn't helped by the lovely Fiona Phillips who hyped up the big fight in between giggles and then swiftly changed tone to hand us over to the news, which led on a 97-year-old woman being beaten up in her own home.

The rumble in the studio' was an altogether tamer affair than the last but Eamonn still managed a few kidney punches, telling Blaine: "What happened last time we met? Was it personal, what was it?"

To which Blaine mumbled: "It was like, 6-7am, I'm usually tired at that time, so I was kinda groggy and a little slow motion"

Eamonn went on: "I worried about you that day y'see. I thought there was something wrong with you."

Blaine, who this time was appearing on TV to promote the video of his Above The Below experience, had heroically managed to crawl out of his bed on the right side this time, to reply: "Oh no, I was just having fun."

How the long winter nights must fly by at Chez Blaine.

EASTENDERS (BBC1)

Over the years, soap fans have been asked to believe a vast range of unlikely scenarios, from a flesh-eating bug in Brookside to a serial-killer in Coronation Street.

But they must think we were holding the door open when brains were being given out to believe that a bloke like Gary Hobbs has three women running round after him.

Resembling a stick insect in a boiler suit and possessing the personality of a paper clip, Gary Grease Monkey somehow manages to keep a trio of ladies on the go.

Not even Alfie Moon, the undisputed champion of sweeping the fairer sex off their feet (mine included), has three lasses on the go.

Mind you, Kat has put on weight.

If you can't yet receive Channel Five where you live, BRITAIN'S WORST CELEBRITY DRIVER (C5) is a good example of why you should disconnect it if you can get it.

Fronted by Quentin "I'm trying to be Jeremy Clarkson" Wilson, it's one of those shows dreamt up at ten to five on a Friday afternoon, which only just manages to get away with it because it's for charity.

It involves Jeremy Spake (Portly Airline man) Paul Ross (Brother of Jonathan) Linda Robson (Birds Of A Feather) and Nicholas Parsons (It's been so long, I've forgott en.)

At the start of the show, slippery Quentin announced they were going to blindfold the celebrities' and then make them negotiate television sets as obstacles.

So I switched channels, only to land smack in the middle of another advert for Cliff plugging his latest Chrimbo number.

Now if it was Shakin' Stevens, it wouldn't be so bad.

After all, Christmas: It's a fake without The Shake.

Season's greetings!