Okay, so Series 9 of America's Next Top Model starts tonight on pay TV.
The thing is, right, that I'm in Broome, see, and I won't be watching it.
I said I won't be watching it.
If I can get a copy of it (email me now, people), and if I have time to recap the first episode before the second one thunders down the catwalk in an inappropriate bikini, I'll be more than happy to throw my two bitchy cents in. Vitriol is like a fart - if you try to hold it in, it just makes you feel sick.
Until then, I've got fishing, desert-crossing and sky-diving to do. I'm sure you understand.
That's me. At about eleven thousand feet. I know, right?