In the glittering snake pit of British telly, where chat show kings sip champagne with A-listers and reality stars swap dignity for down under drama, Graham Norton just lobbed a grenade into the hype machine of I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here!. The 62-year-old Irish maestro – whose BBC sofa has hosted everyone from Julia Roberts to Elton John without breaking a sweat – dropped a bombshell on his podcast Wanging On that’s got the 2025 jungle rumour mill spinning faster than a Bushtucker wheel. Forget polite chit-chat; Norton didn’t just shade the show’s rumoured cast of soap divas, boxer boyfriends, and social media screamers. He eviscerated them, painting them as fame-famished fame-seekers desperate for a “quick injection of cash.” And his condition for ever zipping up that khaki? Catastrophe-level broke. Ouch.

Picture this: It’s a crisp October afternoon in 2025, and Norton’s co-host, the wickedly witty Maria McErlane, prods him like a trial proctor with a grub-filled stick. “Would you ever do I’m A Celeb?” she asks, probably expecting the usual Norton deflection – a cheeky anecdote about his fear of spiders or a quip about preferring his couch to a campfire. Instead, the host of The Graham Norton Show unleashes a torrent that’s equal parts hilarious and heretical. “One day when my roof blows off or a big tax bill comes and I have to do I’m A Celebrity!” he declares, his voice dripping with mock despair. The pause that follows? Pure podcast gold. Then comes the kicker: “I don’t want to resurrect my career. I just want a quick injection of cash, that’s all I want.”

Maria erupts in laughter, but the barb lands like a venomous critter in the camp pot. Norton’s not mincing words here – he’s implying the 2025 line-up, still shrouded in whispers but buzzing with names like Emmerdale’s larger-than-life Lisa Riley, Love Island’s fist-happy Tommy Fury, and comedy icon Ruby Wax, is a parade of has-beens and hustlers chasing paydays, not adventure. “That’s what they all say, isn’t it?” he sneers, lumping the lot into a category of celebrities who’d rather munch witchetty grubs than admit they’re skint. It’s a savage sideswipe at a show that’s built an empire on “brave” stars voluntarily starving for our amusement, all while banking six-figure fees. Coleen Rooney raked in a reported £1.5 million last year; if Norton’s right, this year’s crew is just following suit, trading dignity for dollars under the guise of “facing fears.”

The Rumoured Jungle Junkies: Who’s Desperate Enough?

As I’m A Celeb gears up for its November 16 launch – a full three weeks of Ant and Dec’s cheeky commentary, celebrity squabbles, and enough eye-rolls to stock a croc’s handbag factory – the whispers are deafening. Insiders are spilling like overfilled Dingo Dollars, and Norton’s timing couldn’t be more brutal. The cast hasn’t been officially unveiled (ITV loves that drip-feed drama), but the tabloids are treating it like a royal birth announcement. Here’s the hit list of names that have Norton’s hackles up:

Lisa Riley (Emmerdale’s Mandy Dingle): The 48-year-old soap siren, who’s turned down the jungle invite “every year” like it’s a bad blind date, is suddenly in “advanced talks.” Sources gush she’s “perfect” – a bubbly ITV darling with millions of fans hooked on her scheming schemes. But Norton? He’d see right through the tabard: another soap star swapping Yorkshire moors for Aussie mud, probably eyeing that quick cash to fund her next big bash.
Tommy Fury: The 26-year-old boxer-turned-reality hunk (and Molly-Mae Hague’s ex) was rumoured last year but bailed for a bout. Now, post-split spotlight, he’s cooing to The Mirror, “It’s an amazing show… something I want to do.” Translation: My Instagram’s dipping; time for trials and tantrums. Fury’s got the muscles for the challenges but, per Norton, zero chill for the “resurrect my career” vibe.
Ruby Wax: At 72, the Girls on Top legend and mental health maven is “in advanced talks,” fresh off her Disney+ Andor cameo and a solo stint on a remote island for Cast Away. She’s got gravitas, sure – interviewed Madonna, interviewed her own brain – but would she starve for stardom? Norton’s quip hits home: Ruby’s no rookie to discomfort, but is this a passion project or a pension top-up?
Shona McGarty (Ex-EastEnders Whitney Dean): The 33-year-old, who quit Walford last year to “pursue things in her heart,” is reportedly jungle-bound. Post-soap slump? Check. Desire for a comeback? Double check. She’d bring the tears (those Whitney storylines were waterworks central), but Norton would clock it as classic “cash injection” territory.
Conor Benn: The 28-year-old boxing prodigy (son of Nigel) is eyeing a post-fight entry after his November 15 rematch with Chris Eubank Jr. ITV’s salivating: “He’ll make great TV.” But with a family legacy like that, is it glory or greenbacks? Fury 2.0, anyone?

And that’s just the tip of the trial iceberg. Bookies are betting big on Denise van Outen (odds slashed to 2/1 for “Denise van Outback”), Kelly Brook (flipping her “never” to “now”), and even Wayne Rooney tagging along after Coleen’s runner-up roar. Social media sensation “Angry Ginge” is tipped as the TikTok token, while Christine McGuinness nearly spilled the beans at the Pride of Britain Awards. Jamie Oliver? He’d send wife Jools instead – “She’d love it!” Even Conor McGregor’s name floated, though that’d be more punch-up than Bushtucker.

Norton’s not buying the bravery brigade. “I’m going to go, ‘I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here!’ within a second of every single challenge, and let them starve – I don’t care!” he cackles on the pod. Imagine it: Graham, khaki-clad and quippy, bailing on the first grub gorge, leaving campmates to ration rice and resentment. It’s sabotage as strategy – a one-man wrecking crew who’d turn trials into tantrums faster than Matt Hancock hugging crocs.

Why Norton’s Roast Resonates: The Cash-for-Creeps Critique

This isn’t Norton’s first jungle jab. Back in 2022, he skewered Matt Hancock’s controversial cameo with a sack-and-snack zinger that had the nation howling. But 2025’s swipe feels sharper, timed as it is with the teaser trailer dropping (“’Tis Nearly the Season”) and flights to Oz already booked. The host, who’s interviewed jungle vets like Peter Andre (who met Katie Price there – fame’s ultimate plot twist), knows the score: I’m A Celeb isn’t survival; it’s a salary stunt. Stars enter “broke or broken,” emerge with book deals and baby steps toward relevance. Hancock got £400k; Coleen cashed in post-Wagatha. Norton, with his €10 million empire (chat show, novels, Eurovision gigs), doesn’t need the notes. He needs the narrative – and he’s flipping it.

Fans are feasting on the fallout. On X (formerly Twitter), #GrahamVsJungle is trending, with clips from Wanging On racking up millions. “Graham calling out the cash cows – iconic,” tweets one. “If Norton quits every trial, sign him up!” chimes another. Even Maria piles on: “You’d be the worst campmate ever!” It’s the kind of unfiltered banter that makes Norton’s world tick – no scripts, just savage truth.

The ‘Only Way’ In: Disaster or Dare?

So, what’s the real tea? Would Norton ever trade his red sofa for a snake-infested hammock? Only if the heavens (or HMRC) conspire against him. “Roof off or tax bill” isn’t hyperbole; it’s the last resort of a man who’s built a career on comfort and candour. At 62, post-prostate cancer scare and with a partner like photographer Jonathan McCamley keeping things grounded, Graham’s not jungle material. He’d rather grill guests on gaffes than eat them himself.

Yet, in this swipe, there’s a sly invitation. ITV, take note: Book Norton for a cameo – not as contestant, but chaos agent. Let him host a trial from the sidelines, roasting the rumoured roster in real time. Lisa vs. lizards? “Darling, you’ve faced worse in the Dales!” Tommy’s tunnel terror? “Punch out, love – or is that just your personality?” It’d be ratings dynamite, blending Norton’s wit with the show’s grit.

As the jungle drums beat louder – launch looming, cast coalescing – Norton’s words echo like a warning roar. I’m A Celeb thrives on desperation disguised as daring, but Graham’s laid it bare: It’s not about the bugs; it’s the bank balance. Will the 2025 crew prove him wrong, or will they quit quicker than their host? One thing’s certain: In Norton’s world, the real celebrities don’t starve – they feast on the funny.