Balls To That

Tonight SBS gave birth to a new genre of television program, that of the Extreme Lifestyle Show. Cooking In The Danger Zone, screened at 7:30 takes the relatively safe practice of cooking and puts it in a context of fire and brimstone. Given that the original "reality program," Big Brother, had about 500 000 spin offs, where do we go next with the ELS? Knitting In The Danger Zone? Bocce In The Danger Zone? The worst case scenario is that some earnest young whipper snapper produces an hour long documentary on that rubbish song from Top Gun, Highway To The Danger Zone, for that would cause much weeping and gnashing of teeth.

CITDZ kicks off with a visit to a Kabul market, where one chappie with a fixation for ovine genitalia is selling a massive sheep's arse and loads of testicles too! When Stefan, the host, asks how they compare with the popular anti-impotence drug Viagra in restoring performance, he is told "this beats 1000 of your pills." Maybe so, but I ain't eating balls. I consider it kind of, well, gay.

Then it's off to the "Hindu Kush" mountains which in Afghani means "death to Hindus," the Hindus in question being the ones who live just over the other side of them. Lovely! I then wished that Koszciusko could be renamed "Kiwi Kush." I hate New Zealanders with their funny accents and connections with Lord of the Rings and that bloody Nathan Astle retiring and stuff. Everything that is not Australian makes me uncomfortable and when it's as foreign as something from New Zealand, I get really bloody scared, though I don't tell anyone. The sight of the Southern Cross at night used to make me feel bloody proud to be Australian, but then someone told me you could see it in New Zealand too and I went and had a big bloody panic attack.

Anyway, Stefan then ventures off to the "best kebab shop in the world." I think the good folks at Coogee Yeeros might have something to say about that, before rounding off the night with some more grilled testicles. He gets the girl and the US restores liberty and freedom to the Middle East, in the form of a Starbucks on every corner.

Easy Company

I've been keeping easy company lately: languid trips to the beach on the weekend; an employer who provides lunch and a zillion cups of coffee a day; the end of the barbeque season; the continuation of the business end of the television season.

Spicks & Specks has become a Wednesday night staple. After months of deciding which side to barrack for, I've thrown in my lot for the package deal and just wish they'd both pop out one of these nights. The quiz is quite good too; the adept Adam Hills is a great host and it flows along nicely courtesy of his captaincy.

Extras is piss funny. Watch it.

Band of Brothers is not on television at the moment; it was on a few years ago and fell into the "meant to watch it" category. I have on loan the entire series, which is going along brilliantly at present; it looks as though we may defeat the Nazis before too long.

I actually can't be bothered writing on this fucking thing any longer. If I come back to it, well and good, but it's bye for now.