Television Ate My Brain, Again

Given that I've been a tad poorly of late, I've been welded to the couch in front of the tv a little more than usual. Like Homer, my sofa now has an ass-shaped groove.

Some highs/lows of the last couple of days:

• Of course there was Eurovision in all it's tackiness glory.
  
• I had high hopes for the handling of the Desperate Housewives boy-on-boy kiss in last night's episode, but it was a bit 'meh'. Of course it's hard to get excited about having The Gays on Wisteria Lane when Andrew Van Der Kamp is such a turd of a character, even if his liplocking buddy Justin is quite the cuteness.
  
• Damn those Celebrity Circus people and their seductive whiles, I started watching one episode innocently enough and the next thing you know I'm only borderline apathetic. Oh, and Outback Jack's real name isn't Jack! Shocking! I guess they tested Outback Vadim and for some reason it didn't fly. Huh.
  
• Oh, and when Cameron Daddo finally conquered his fear of heights by walking the tightrope, then burst into tears. Major. Ah, bless.
  
• I can't even bring myself to watch Big Brother anymore, it is officially dead to me. Where is the mix up of ages, sexualities, life experiences? Instead we get a bunch of twentysomething Sharons & Darrens. Ugh. Once I realised I wanted to haul off and smack every single one of them, it's time to go TOA.