Apparently I've been missing a trick by never getting into I’m A Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Here.

People whose opinion I usually respect have been yabbing on about what great telly it is, thanks to those pocket-rockets Ant and Dec.

I’ve always found them a bit sinister – and kangaroo testicles a bit hard to swallow on a schoolnight – but I HATE missing something, so I've got stuck in.

First rule of I’m A Celebrity is of course to knock how blatantly uncelebrity all the contestants are. But it’s a miracle they’ve got anyone to sign up to this torture. It is quite old-fashioned telly, perversely, with the opening shots looking like something out of a bad Simon Cowell /James Bond cheese dream.

There are no certainties in life but let’s place our bets on what we'd like to see from our contestants.

Steve Davis will hopefully stop gurning like an inappropriate uncle at a wedding and harness that strangely seductive assertive streak to become the breakout star. Joey Essex will do more of what he’s good at: running around in shorts and a polo shirt with his pins out, like an especially camp and dim boy scout.

And Rebecca Adlington will give in to her urge and have Westlife’s Kian for breakfast (I’m new to this show, but I’m guessing it’s all about who gets to snog who, right?).

If you want a proper dose of telly hilarity without feeling like a sadist, don't miss Wonderwoman which has started popping up, of all places, on the Horror channel on Fridays and catch-up.

This 1970s original is an intoxicating cocktail of retro kitch, with remarkably little sexual tension. Wonderwoman herself (Lynda Carter) is busy fact-finding and delivering stinging put-downs to world dictators in bug-eye glasses before twirling off into That Outfit. It’s the best outfit ever and beats all fancy dress try-hards hands down (and I've just seen more than my fair share at Butlin’s). The music and graphics are so fabulously retro you want to cry with joy.

But what it’s really all about is the ridiculous villains. There is one recurring bad guy (Lyle Waggoner) who looks like a wigged golf champ, or an unhinged Steve Martin after a bad run of luck. (Sample quote: “War, pestilence famine and disease: the earth is perfect just as it is, I love it! Haha! Activate Sting Ray! Sting Ray is an electronic wunderkind and has a kill capacity by air or sea. Sleep tight!”

And Wonderwoman’s sidekick is the chiselled dude from Airplane.

The lame stunts are worthy of Top Cat (Wonderwoman is fond of hiding behind a tower of bins in the middle of the scrub. Nonviolent and also cheap to film, you feel).

But overall, it’s stupid, camp and kitch, and spawned a generation of wannabes trying to break through the glass ceiling with pointy falsies.

So it’s hard not to like.

And, most importantly, there's not a crocodile anus in sight.