Shebangabang's Next Top Model Series Two #12

What? This thing is still going? It’s like the longest series of Top Model ever. It feels like I’ve been sitting in my loungeroom taking frenzied notes for eight and a half years. I’m tired. It’s a good thing I get paid for this sh... oh. Oh, I see. No, you’re right, that is sad.



The Judges
Normally in this section, I’d look at each of the regular judges in their own individual paragraphs, and say something about how Sara Tetro should avoid ruching around her boobular section, or how even in a god-awful driving cap Chris “Touch Me In The Morning And Then Just Walk Away” Sisarich speaks fluent underpants, or how Colin Hyphenated-Surname only just saves himself this week with a saucy pert curl in his coiff.
But this week will be different, because I only have eyes for one judge – guest Francis Hooper.
Or as I shall call him:


There’s A Man In A Little Hat On My Telly.


Sure, he also has a sequinned bow tie, a metallic-sheened waistcoat and the word ‘gothbag’ in his vocabulary, but none of that matters, because you know what?


THERE’S A MAN IN A LITTLE HAT ON MY TELLY.


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

Seriously, there are a LOT of pictures of chimpanzees wearing hats on the internet.

The Icksint
They say that Latin is the language of enlightenment, and that French is the language of love. I say that the New Zealand accent is the language of sounds like you’re sucking on a chess piece.

Diabolluckle Prenk = putting chocolate in a fake crocodile’s mouth to lure models to the pool edge and then pushing them in.

Obviously Scrupted = putting chocolate in a fake crocodile’s mouth to lure models to the pool edge and then pushing them in.

Dye-rick-shuns = what you give to a driver of a Ford Fee-yista if you want to get to a go-see on time. See also: U-Turns.

Unstunct = a gut feeling that is less effective than a street directory by about eight hundred percent.

The Jum = a stupid, stupid place to hold a go-see.


Tin Munnuts = how late you need to be to git dusqualified from a chellunge.

Wunner Wunner Chucken Dunner = I have no fucking idea what this means.

There’s A Men Un A Luttle Het On My Tilly = I know, right? Awesome.



Budgetirry Lumutations

Actually, it probably costs a hell of a lot to pay people to pretend to be excited about Ford Fiestas.

Not so much to give one away as a prize, though. For a year. On loan.
As Nelza would say: “Holla”.
As Nelza would also say: “I’m fine thanks, how are you *click* you *click* you *click* Error 404 Personality Not Found


Bist Buts


• Courtenay gets lost during the go-sees. Honestly, for a girl whose eyes are so wide-set she can see around corners, her sense of direction is tirra-bull.


• The obligatory on-screen countdown clock causes Danielle to run around in a bra with one shoe. Which is totally fine because I’m still a little frightened of her.


• Courtenay is still lost.


• Danielle sees five designers and makes nine bookings. Even maths is scared of her.


• Courtenay is still lost.


• I feel all funny during this week’s photo shoot. Not upset like Michaela, or insecure like Courtenay, or lobotomised like Nelza. Just an odd sensation that I can’t live another day without a pink Harajuku wig,a candy-striped pillbox hat, a marionette, and a tattooed stomach. Ut was all the fun of the fear!


• Courtenay is still lost.


• Apparently Nelza loves this week, and she loves going on go-sees, and she loves Auckland, and photo-shoots, and saying “thank you”, and air, and unicorns. Which is such a coincidence, because I love smacking people.


Courtenay is still lost. Oh, no wait – she lost. I always get those two mixed up.

E haere ra, Courtenay! I actually think you’re a little bit amazing, although to be honest, you always had one eye on the door. FINAL WIDE-SET EYES JOKE, PEOPLE.



Maybe.