Detox

Boyfriend and I were talking about doing a detox this week.  And by 'detox', I don't mean one of those weird lemon-juice-and-cayenne-pepper liquid diets that all the celebrities seem to try at one stage or another.  I mean we just decided not to drink until next Saturday night.  To normal people, this idea may not seem like that much of a stretch.  What normal people need to understand is that the main component of my makeup is a 50/50 mix of Sierra tequila and shame.  Boyfriend isn't much better.

 

Needless to say, we didn't do very well.  I think Boyfriend made it til Tuesday - and no, I don't mean Tuesday night.  I just mean Tuesday.  I decided that today (Thursday) was a good day to break the fast.  So I didn't make it to Saturday, but I'm still pretty proud of myself.  Sunday til Thursday?  There's a good 5 days without alcohol in there!  So maybe we're both alcoholics.  Don't worry about it.  We like us like this.

Now for my tri-weekly post about My Kitchen Rules.  One of the other reasons I decided to drink tonight was due to my current devastation over the fact that BOTH of my favourite teams were eliminated this week.

Is it just me, or has this season of My Kitchen Rules absolutely flown by?  It's Grand Final week already!!  Obviously I'm upset about it, mostly because after this Sunday I'll have no excuse to sit in front of my TV yelling sub-par culinary advice at a group of complete strangers - which a lot of you will know is one of my absolute favourite past times.  But also because now that Steve, Helen and The Army Boys have been kicked off, I have to choose a new favourite from a group of complete bores.  I don't mean any personal offense to the four remaining teams - it's just that watching them cook makes me want to kill myself and everyone around me.

Bit harsh?

I'm exaggerating of course.  But how ironic is it that the four teams left in the Grand Final are the only ones without personalities?  They're just so...forgettable.  I've actually forgotten their names.  I only refer to them by the ridiculous nicknames I have made up based on their cooking styles and/or personal appearances:

• The Hot Guys
• The Sisters
• The Bogans
• Those Two Chicks I Can't Stand

Okay...so maybe it's mostly about their personal appearances.

Speaking of reality shows, I was watching TV at the gym earlier today and saw that this week on Deal Or No Deal, the major prize is a Winnebago.  For those of you not in the know, here is what a Winnebago looks like:

 ...

Sorry, but that is retarded.  Deal Or No Deal is filmed in Sydney, and from what I have seen, few or none of the contestants are 85-year-old couples looking to travel cross-country in a home on wheels.  This is the worst major prize ever.  It might be cool for like, a week.  Until you realise 

a) This monstrosity will never fit down any street in Sydney, and

b) It will cost 800 million dollars every time you fill up with petrol

WORST PRIZE EVER!  Who's idea was this?  The only thing more ridiculous than competing on Deal Or No Deal to win a caravan is the fact that I was watching TV at the gym.  Again.  Whatever!  At $39 bucks a month, I figure that's the cheapest way to get access to Foxtel anyway.  Plus if you watch crap TV while running on a treadmill, you only lose like half the amount of braincells you normally would.  Everyone knows that.