These guys have been accused of everything, form being dead to being the illuminati or Iranian spies.
Follow the three golden rules: keep it superficial, keep it in writing and keep it moving (to someone else's desk).
What seems like just a catchy pop hit is actually so much more. Touching on themes that include ancient history, architecture, geography and world religions, what Justin is really giving us is a valuable life lesson on what happens when one gets too big for one’s boots.
Last week we imagined a wonderful world in which I am the next Bachelorette Australia and countless (well...18) well-dressed men in their 20s and 30s are desperate for me to glance their way. Which isn't that far from the truth of my day-to-day life really (guess that's why it's called 'reality' TV). Time for part 2 of my fantasy casting.
This year, producers have made the interesting and frankly genius decision to cast Sophie Monk as the leading lady. But let's pretend for a second that they didn't. Let's imagine they cast someone else. Someone closer to home. Or closer to my home at least, because we’re pretending they cast me.
I’m not going to pretend that anyone really cares about this blog enough to have missed its semi-regular updates (insert obligatory and unconvincing “oh but we have...definitely...so much...cry ourselves to sleep every night” from the audience), but I still feel the need to justify my six-month absence.
They’ll all claim they were badly edited by unscrupulous producers, but reality TV villains are gifts from above providing hours of entertainment, limitless shareable gifs and more mock outraged Mamamia blogs than you can poke a stick at.