There's a TV show, hopefully a one-off, coming soon in which oldest teenager in town/bitch DJ Scott Mills gets to live with "The Hoff" for a week.
I say: big deal.
For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, The Hoff is former Baywatch bellend David Hasselhof, who these days is the go-to guy for confirming that the Noughties really have been a cultural dustbin.
He's wheeled out at every studenty/ironic/Comic Relief/E4 voiceover/hideously out of touch-type affair, usually in a scarlet windcheater and mid-thigh shorts, being drunk, acting the fool, failing to recognise other celebrities or singing (yes, yes, we know he was big in Germany - how hilarious! Yawn). The man's a washed up old soak with big hair. A buffoon.
I really don't get this ironic bigging up of him, but it's been years now since it stopped being even remotely amusing. Was it actually ever funny that this man ran along a beach in slow motion or was a hit on the continent? But still the bandwagon rolls on. People don't know when to leave a joke alone do they? They can rumble on for years. See "computer says no" or any Little Britain catchphrase to prove that point.
This kind of reinvention has happened for various people over the years. Tom Jones, David Dickinson, Rolf Harris, etc, in the main leathery, pompadoured old windbags who should have been put out to grass long ago. But for some reason they're still there, plying their trade to a whole new audience. Thing is, that audience has moved on. It's only they and their employers who don't realise this. They're not laughing with you, etc...
So lets lay "The Hoff" (I hate that) to rest. For all our sakes. It's actually quite cruel to keep it going.
Now, let's reinvent Don Partridge.
