What is it about reality TV which turns even the most rational, intelligent person into an obsessive couch potato, with painful withdrawal symptoms if their daily fix is not satisfied?

The latest offering fuelling our addiction is the return of I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here, where we see a bunch of minor celebrities camping out in the Australian rainforest, presented with daily tasks by Geordie duo Ant and Dec.

Although this is not a new formula and we have seen it all before, this show has me spellbound and totally intrigued. This is due to the strange blend of celebrities the producers of the show have selected. I am deducing this is probably not their number one line-up and a host of major celebrities were asked first, but this programmes mix of has-beens and wannabees is plainly bizarre.

The inclusion of the non-entity Fran Cosgrove, a London nightclub owner, makes me question how the title of the show can be accurate. The definition of celebrity is the state or quality of being widely honoured and acclaimed. This guy was a bodyguard for Westlife and once had a romantic liaison with Natasha from Atomic Kitten. Celebrity? I think not.

For most, the motivation to appear on a show such as this is prompted by the desire to make some much needed cash and the opportunity to boost or re-launch a career. This show in particular has proved a successful vehicle to achieve this aim. Since appearing on the programme, the once forgotten man of pop, Peter Andre, has had a number one hit and now has his own fly-on-the-wall TV documentary with girlfriend Jordan. And who can deny the lucrative advertising deal Tara Palmer Tomkinson secured with Walkers Crisps wasn't a result of her soul baring experience in the jungle.

For the latest group of celebrities, this motivation certainly applies to most and in some cases is blatantly obvious. You can't help but cringe when ex-Three Degrees star Sheila Ferguson bursts into song to remind us all she still has a voice and the sickly Paul Burrell continues to relay stories of the Royals from his time as Diana's butler. Doesn't this man realise he is never going to regain popularity and public support if he keeps spouting out more royal secrets? Surely his fellow incarcerated celebrities and the viewing public are not impressed by revelations of the Queen in pink, fluffy slippers wearing her state crown.

Among the motley crew of whingers, wets and weasels, there is one celebrity I just can't fathom and that's Janet Street Porter. Why is this successful, highly intelligent, media professional taking part in this show? She doesn't need to boost her career and certainly doesn't have anything to prove.

Her opinionated views and caustic wit make her a welcome addition to the camp. In many ways, she says what we are all thinking and thank goodness someone is prepared to pull up the whining Brian Harvey for his fussy food fads.

The 57-year-old Street Porter's prime motivation is to win this competition and to prove you don't have to be a blonde bimbo or a washed-up loser to make it on reality TV. I hope she does steal the title of queen of the jungle, but with the arrival of the bookies favourite Vic Reeves, she may have a fight on her hands.

Vic is her only real intellectual competition in the camp and through his comedy exploits he has become a real favourite with the public. However, thankfully for Janet, his wife and fellow camp member, Nancy Sorrell, may help to seal his fate.

Annoying ex-pole dancer Nancy may prove to get everyone's back up as she has mine and this could in turn have a negative effect on her husband's popularity.

This is only week one of the show. As time progresses we will no doubt see more tears and tantrums, crumbling egos, and a clear favourite emerge.

For Janet, the dreaded bush-tucker trial is the least of her worries. Subjected to more time with this bunch of misfits, Ms Street Porter may well be exclaiming: "I'm a celebrity get me out of here!".

Updated: 08:32 Saturday, November 27, 2004