Last night I gorged. Binged if you will. On something that is not good for me.
Reality TV.
According to Wikipedia, Reality TV is a genre of television programming that presents purportedly unscripted dramatic or humorous situations, documents actual events, and usually features ordinary people instead of professional actors, sometimes in a contest or other situation where a prize is awarded.
According to me, Reality TV is akin to crack. It is totally addictive and rots your brain.
Masterchef has bought our family together. My kids go apeshit for it and Mr Woog has all of a sudden turned into a gastronomic expert. The 3 of them have taken to "scoring my dish" after dinner. Last night I scored a ten out of ten, which almost bought me to tears and started a discussion about how far I had come on my journey.
After Masterchef, I binged a bit on Project Runway, where the contestants speak like they have had a lobotomy.
"Hiiiiii Meeeeegan"
My problem with Project Runway is that it should be called Project Alex Perry, because he is the only good thing about that show.
(Small side note - I am so excited to note that the new series of Australia's Next Top Model is coming up. Super scrag fights galore I am promised. And you are a fan of ANTM, bookmark this blog immediately. And if you are super pumped about it, click over now and check out the contestants complete with some... ahem... lovely descriptions........)
During my binge last night, I got into a text conversation with my sister Mrs Ryan which went like this:
Mrs Ryan: Do you want to do Amazing Race with me?
Mrs Woog: OK. Do I have to do anything?
Mrs Ryan: Can you fill out the forms and learn map reading?
Mrs Woog: No. You do it.
Mrs Ryan: Come on. They always have a sister team on it.
But I have zero interest in being on a reality tv show. In reality, I would be voted out in the first week for being rude and uncooperative. This I know for sure. I would bet my immunity pin on it.
Finally I watched My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, which just about sent me into a coma. The bride and the bridesmaid were all sad like as they realised they could not be best friends anymore after the wedding. They are both 17. It was disturbing, but I mainly watch it for the cutting edge fashions.
There was a promo during MBFGW for a new show called Eat Yourself Sexy, a show telling me that if I ate watermelon then I would have more sex. It was the trigger for me to turn the bloody television off and go and finish reading Anna Karenina while I still had two brain cells to rub together.
Are you a reality tv addict? What is your poison?
