Wednesday, January 03, 2007

How Now Brown Cow

Australian Princess

Guys, I *know* this show is the lowest of the low but christ, it's like street crack and I'm addicted.

This is the low down - take a bunch of low class, crass, bogan, maneating girls who don't really know how to dress and put them through the royal ringer (elocution classes, how to behave in public classes, charm school) and then make fun of them when they fuck up. Eliminate the ones that are total ogres (ie: normal) and then take the remaining few to England where they have to keep doing it all in front of real royalty. I'm not sure what the prize is at the end but I think it might be a sash. Along the way they are judged by a group of arse lickers who are nothing more than common plebs with posh accents and faux credentials, which are at best inadequate to judge such a spectacle.

Sounds pretty cool, huh? The umbrella premise of the show is that women have no intrinsic value to the world unless they are pretty (and malleable) airheads who amuse men with their many feminine "qualities". The funny thing is, I'm picking these kinds of vibes up in one or two blogs written by men lately as well. Good to know that "art" imitates reality then!

Probably the most entertaining person on the show (besides the pig farmer) is the bitchiest man to grace our televisions since Just Jack from Will and Grace - Royal Butler to Diana: Princess of Wales Paul Burrell. Yes, this is the guy who found himself with no job after Diana died and so he decided to dedicate himself to whoring himself in any way he could - and now here is being patronising to young girls even though he is a ..what? oh that's right FUCKING BUTLER!! Okay, Mr Belvedere - since when does being able to Mr Sheen the shit out of a dining table give you the credentials to make fun of anyone..and I mean ANYONE? You suck (keep the bitch inside alive)!

So yes, while I have found it rather hard to get out of bed lately, I'm realising that crap reality television is giving me my mojo back. If they were showing Dr Phil on daytime tele instead of the worlds most BORING sport (cricket) then you know I'd be back to 100% normal me by now (ie: from all that bile and anger I'd spew forth because Dr Phil is so infuriatingly STUPID - and yet, like crack and Australian Princess: addictive). But since they insist on killing us slowly with countless hours of unfit men wearing zinc on their noses and white pants from K-mart then we'll have to wait and see if this series of Australian Princess can cure my blues. Ooooo wait Cheaters is on tonight! Another bout of tele therapy - free of charge!

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