I Am All A Quiver With Excitement

I enjoy my share of reality TV. 'Survivor' may be the pedigree version of this genre but if you want to dip down into the dirty shallow end of the gene pool, there is really nothing better than the UK version of 'Big Brother'. Sure the show started in Holland but the Brits perfected it. It's a trainwreck full of all the tabloid trashiness that makes the UK version of popular culture so appealing.

Any slug can go from the gutter one minute to the toast of London the next. And this version is special because it is the 11th and final version ever. No more Davita telling the contestants they are "live on Channel 4 so please don't swear". No more diary rooms and no more epic craziness.

Sure the US does their version but it's like America itself - all about scheming and plotting to get rid of any perceived rival. In the UK version, the contestants are forbidden from talking about nominations, especially about who they personally wanted to get out of the house. That changes the whole motivation for the players.

In the US you are encouraged to make alliances that some time later in the game you are forced to betray. That can be fun for awhile but I find I end up hating whomever wins just because of what they had to do to climb to the top of that trash pile.

In Britain you can be full on bat-shit crazy - you can be yourself - and be rewarded for it by a public that want to see your antics continue for another week. In fact, being quiet and sneaky is sure to get you eliminated early from the circus.

This one should be good because there is not an attractive person in the bunch. OMG - they will have to get by on their...gulp...PERSONALITIES!

Hate me, judge me, but I am going to soak all this debauchery in because when it's gone, we all will miss it.