Shebangabang's Next Top Model #8

Did you know that every time you say “I don’t believe in lizardy ginger aliens with yellow teeth from outer space’, another one dies?

Woops.

Sorry, Rebecca Rose.


The Judges.

Sara Tetro
Sara’s done with the funerals and inaugurations, and now she’s off to a PTA meeting. Also, am I the only one who’s noticed how aggressive her summative spiel is just before the opening credits? It’s like she’s commentating a wrestling match and trying to blow out candles at the same time.

Chris Sisarich
You’re in trouble, Mr Welcome-To-My-Pants Sisarich. The pork-pie hat I could handle. I didn’t bat an eyelid when you chose that deep v-necked t-shirt (although let’s not presume that there was no batting whatsoever). But one of those floppy flannel beanies that looks like you haven’t been able to pull your shirt all the way over your head? Go and stand in the corner. Wait... just turn your buttocks towards me a little more... thaaaat’s it.

Colin Mathura-Jeffree
See this, Colin?








That’s me being lost for words.

In the Eliminarium, you look like you’ve recently dipped yourself in a bucket full of wax, leather, and melted-down John Waters.

For the music video shoot, though, I... I’m not sure I know what to say. I know what you needed to say, though. Two things, in fact:
1. “You know, I think I’ll leave some hairspray in the can today”; and
2. “Stop knitting, nanna. That scarf’s plenty long enough already”.

Wait – I think I have a picture of it here somewhere...

The Icksint.

If any of you are going on holiday to New Zealand soon, you may want to print out these weekly language guides to help you to be understood by the natives. Also, you may want to fire your travel agent.

Krus-chen – somebody who believes in god, in fact sometimes the entire holy trunnuty.

Sa-lib-ra-tee – a person who is famous in New Zealand. See also: Who The Fuck?

The Ix Fictor – something Rebecca Rose thinks she has. See also: No.

Meer-duh – a crime that occurs most commonly on the dancefloor.

Migga-Brazullion – beauty treatment that involves the epplication of hot wex and ixtinsuve hear removal. Not to be confused with Migga-Bazullion, which just means heaps.

Budgetirry Lumutations.

• Wow! The modules just keep meeting celebrity after celebrity this week! First they get to pretend they’re on a television show with Jacquie Brown and Jermaine Leef (I know, me neither), then they get to record a music video for Autozamm (your guess is as good as mine), and then they get to have a photo-shoot with eight of Cleo magazine’s bachelors (including one who’s probably called Dave)! What’s next? Morning tea with world bowls champion Peter Bellis???*

• Honestly, they can’t even afford proper bugs in this show. One flies into Ruby’s eye during the photo-shoot and immediately breaks into three pieces. Flimsy.

Bist Buts.

• Rebecca Rose believes that she escaped the bottom two last week because she’s a Krus-chen, and because people were praying for her. Yes, my little alien friend. God wants you to make the final eight contestants in a low-budget farce of a modelling reality television program. He does work in mysterious ways, huh.

• And my girl-crush on Ruby starts... NOW.

• Close your eyes. Closed? Good. Now, imagine the biggest tool you possibly can. Got it? Now add greasy hair from the late eighties, a shirt that wouldn’t even wear itself for a million dollars, an annoying accent, and eight tablespoons of creepy enthusiasm. Next, get your mind’s eye to imagine it directing a music video. Picture it? Right. Now open your eyes.

I know! Me too!

• Teryl-Leigh wears a gorilla-suit for the music video shoot. She grunts, hoots, dances and plays drums with two bananas. This is now overtaking Surprised Kitty as the best thing I’ve seen today.

• If there was any part of this week’s photo-shoot brief that included anything except the instruction “Be the sluttiest sluts you can possibly slut slut slut”, then I certainly didn’t hear it. There’s a chance that I just couldn’t make it out over the sound of rustling vinyl, oiled flesh rubbing together, pick-axe/belt friction and the clanking of chain-leashes. Aaand of course my screams of horror at Rebecca Rose’s ‘sexy-face’. There was really a lot going on. Including the photographer telling Teryl-Leigh to “grab that bitch”. I have a beer waiting for that photographer right now.

Rebecca Rose is shafted because she only has one look, and because the budget can't handle any more dental work. E haere ra, Rebecca Rose! I guess they just weren’t praying hard enough, huh.

*Totally a real dude. Only took me half an hour to Google a New Zealand world champion anything.