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Monday, March 13, 2006

Australia's Next Top Westie Scrag

Hmmmm.... I'm a bit deflated. Anti-climax was always going to be on the cards, but this was a little bit like watching a box full of puppies yapping at a ball. Some significant moments re-visited, though, and some comment-worthy discussion:

Dear ANTM technical staff. When one person is talking, please TURN OFF everybody else's microphone. It's hard enough making sense out of this vacuous drivel without having the self-indulgent squeakings of morons filtering through from the background.

Eboni didn't even make it to the studio, due to being in horse-piddle again. Dentist, I could understand, but will somebody please fix up the Bogan Barbie once and for all? Her brain seems to have functioned well enough in the past without being too inconvenienced by a lack of blood supply.

Hiranthi still looks like a Pakistani Nanny Fine. Madeline looks like an emaciated Andy Warhol. Natalie resembles some kind of bitchy South American ruminant. Jessica still reminds me of an asymmetrical vampire. Sasha still has indigenous bags under her indigenous eyes.

Lordy, but Hiranthi's thick. In a sea of unfinished sentences, she left by far the most observations hanging in the air with a "like... you know....", or a "Kind of.... sort of....". SOMEBODY make a point. If you cut out all instances of the phrases 'Like', 'Sort of', 'Kind of', 'I mean', 'Yeah', and 'I guess', you'd be left with a five-minute info-mercial for Stupid.

Caroline's intense brand-name obsession and compulsive lying is given a re-visit, which is quite interesting, and she reminds everyone that "just because I've been spoiled and privileged in my life, doesn't make me a bad person, and I still know the value of money". You're gonna have to, honey. Word on the street is that she didn't get the HSC marks to go into law, so it's either the retail industry or the 'artistic' film industry for you, my sweet. Just don't mention Hello Kitty in the middle of the money-shot.

I was struck more than once by how average-looking these girls are. Are they really 12 of the prettiest girls in Australia? Or are the producers' oral sex needs just completely and recently satisfied?

Madeline's sexual exploits - bi-curious and otherwise, are explored again, as we all guessed they might be, but WITHOUT any night-vision shots of her and Carl-the-fugly-hairdresser playing each other's pink pianos. Perhaps the footage has been sold to If you've just clicked on the link and got an error message, that's because I made it up. Gotcha. Madeline reckons that, with her, people tend to confuse the word 'wild' with the word 'confidence'. Oddly she didn't mention the words 'slut', 'scrubber', 'indiscriminate', or 'perhaps I'd better go and get tested'.

The now brunette Lara's practical jokes are explored, including one we didn't see - her tying a tampon to Madeline's handbag strap. Perhaps she was trying to send some kind of 'For God's Sake, Plug It With Something' message?
The whole show seems to be an exercise in guarded cattiness. I might write an essay on how many times each scrag raised an eyebrow or made a "yeah, right" face. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the green room.

Jessica's reign as queen-of-the-emotionally-crippled realm is re-explored, with more shots of Her Sweaty Paleness trying to drink water whilst chanelling a shaky drama junkie. She comments that she's feeling better now, and she's had a lot of support, but I can't help feeling she's just one insult away from the foetal position.

Pretty much everyone except Madeline thought that Eboni was going to win. Madeline thought Madeline was going to win. A little bit of Eboni-bashing ensues, and Hiranthi drops a scandalous bomb - she couldn't relate to Eboni! Imagine the headlines - Silver Spooned Idiot Princess Hates Lanky Inarticulate Tamanian Shock! Yawn. Jess mentions that she won't say anything bad about Eboni because she knows she's in a lot of pain. Once Eboni has recovered, though, I'm sure Jess would like to stab her in her sleep.

Simone kind of rocks. She finishes several sentences of her own making, and even makes some sapient points (albeit about trivial modelly things), and despite hours and hours of verbal biffo to her boyfriend, is still engaged to him. The video montage of her dancing around the house with teased hair and a string vest remains a mystery.

Eboni is given a pre-recorded section at the end to answer all the tedious questions the other scrags covered in the studio. Fairly humdrum except for her final profound words - she's a model now. So "no more f*cking swearing".

For God's sake, don't give any of these girls a job in radio.
Bring on America's Next Top Fundamentalist Christian, I say...

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