From: fitzroy
Category: TV
Date: 15 September 2004
When will it stop, this tv exploiting our love of pain and competition? When the sun fizzles out, and the night becomes day. One model is like Winona Ryder, androgynous adjectived the letchy photographer, and complains about the stupidity of the other contestants, then partakes tearfully in the group prayer holding hands business. Only the sassy stroppy one says it's crap and that they're not at Sunday School, she is the prettiest probably. So they all do a load of stuff, like getting to meet Wycleff Jean, and go in Limos, and wear their underwear, and get trained to walk by that camp guy who is on all these shows. And then the bootiest, unbooty depending on your vocabulary, one is booted off with much liquid eye refreshment. And are sincere. And hear rude remarks about themselves from fabulously has-been/ Tyra Banks? Compelling. Prize: Marie Claire/ revlon/agency contract. Second: Lingerie model for mailorder littlewoods catalogue.
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