Hi, I'm an Attention Whore...what's your name?

For some inexplicable reason, season 6, or 7, or whatever, of Big Brother has started in Australia.

This is a show that lost its gloss after 2 seasons, as people became aware of the social experiment nature of the thing, and turned it into an overt, gameplaying, testosterone-fuelled, peer-pressured frustration-fest.

I can do without ten people (or however many are there, 16? 41?), attention whores to a tee, carrying on about what turns them on, what turns them off, which other attention whore they'd like to shag, and wondering what they'll do with their 2 minutes of infamy once they get voted out cause society views them as uninteresting enough to not watch.

That is all you'll hear about Big Brother from me, unless someone kills/maims another attention whore; copulates live on national television; teabags, turkey slaps or otherwise interferes with another attention whore's face with their testicles; threatens to leave because the pressure of the attention was too much; puts the word on the host; manages to succeed in putting the word on the host; or manages to get pizza delivered successfully, AND pay for it.

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