Of course, nobody was really there when Domenico de Cicco ripped his nail scissors out of the toiletry bag just before leaving for the jungle, grabbed a tiny Nike shoe from his teeny-tiny baby, and began carefully, very carefully, to create the sweeping trademark emblem So-called swoosh, to nibble around to put the resulting filigree leather stencil finally turned over the eye area, hold on well, boldly paint them with shoe polish and to tinker so a new, boldly curved, sharp-edged pair of eyebrows.

No one was there, but it's very possible that it happened just like that, you can imagine it vividly - and that is why it is clear already after the collection of this year's jungle camp that this vintage can be a good, maybe bigger: Finally Here we see again wonderful strange characters, which stimulate our imagination, which could actually kidnap us in the next two weeks in the parallel world, to the "I'm a star - get me out of here!" in his best moments always hatch-ready the cat flap held up for us.

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"I'm a star ...": Dive into the camp

Even the first impressions are excellent. Alf-voice Tommi Piper shows up for the first candidate in a white linen suit, with a tropical helmet and bent walking stick (okay, but where was the butterfly net and the tame companion peacock?).

Gisele Oppermann, who, as is still the case with GNTM, still speaks in a fascinatingly feeble permanent tone and attaches to each sentence a quiet creaking mumbo-jumbo particle: "This exam is a huge challenge for me, gnää, I do not know if I can do it, gnäää ". But once she laughs for a change, it's a staccato-like shaking butt, as she drives in a hard-sprung golf cart over a mogul run: "Hey-he-he-he!". Podcaster Leila Lowfire explains that she is "such a character fucker", so would find interesting people hotter than just beautiful: "If Goethe would still live today, then in my vagina," she says, and from such sentences we would have in the jungle -New winter of 2017, when we were trembling with boredom and had nothing to bite, cooked a real feast.

This year, the promising casting has set two obviously blazing fires, which for the first time ever give the camp a real research assignment to the jungle lab right from the start: What is the more painful, disappointed Ro- or crashed Bromance? So how will ex-pair Evelyn Burdecki and Domenico de Cicco and ex-buddies Bastian Yotta and Chris "Cuttywurstmann" Töpperwien behave in the camp? The ex-Turtler approach, barely in the camp, at least briskly on a shared crucible face cream, as befits a proper Schmierenkomödie. Too bad that there is no Jamba ringtone rip-off, because later, the two still provided a kind of conversation, with which they to the success of the annoying Christmas cups ("twice as much as you," the old man will remember) would tie can:

He: "I'm not afraid."

She: "Do not you need either?"

He: "I'm not."

She: "Do not you need either?"

He: "I'm not."

She: "Need ...

(stepping slowly backwards into the jungle scrub like Homer Simpson in the garden hedge)

The last-mentioned LA rooks have to work a bit more on their beef prep. Yotta calls Chris a "pussy sausage man", a solid misogyne insult, conversely, the titled gives away a real splendor when he called his opponent Pipi-Yotta, instead of taking the small step further to the elaborate schmaltzy Pippiyotta Ficktualia Ollgardina, and so on. Hopefully, someone else comes up with the idea to persistently call Yotta Jota, after the ninth and smallest letters of the Greek alphabet, which in the figurative sense describes something tiny, marginal - the exact opposite of his self-chosen artist name Yotta, the largest common unit of measure. which denotes the quadrillion of a value. Oh, the criminally neglected humanistic insult education!

Jungle exam, the first one

Oh yes, jungle tested was also: Even before the move, a part of the residents on a kind of horror balance beam on the roof of a 100 -meter-high skyscraper gymnastics, in the camp then eat the traditional disgusting. Even this long since somewhat bland chicane bargained some pretty moments: "Basti, eat the bull's eye!", Called the sausage man maliciously out of cover, as his opponent had to run in front of him - and the mouth, heavy disgrace for the Männchenego, not timely empty got: He hoarded at the end of the time too much bull penis malm in his cheek pouches, this shame can ferment in him now in the next few days. In the next test, the spectators were sent, as expected, to cheek bringer Gisele, who until now refused consistently to pass all examinations.

For the first time this year, there will be a Jungle King award of 100,000 Euros to prevent a similar denial of service as last year. Sure is sure, but this cast could be trusted without this incentive to do the much-needed clean-up work on the last slightly run down splendor format. Only a terrible suspicion remains after the promising prelude, the "image" must have slipped a bit in their big jungle revelation series: Doctor Bob trotted in his first appearance once again completely unchanged, apparently unaged, in the scene - he is from the production at the first signs of wear, for example, simply replaced by a new, identical Bob, as the Lassiehunde?

We stay, hurray!