Last week I walk into our lounge, fresh from helping Graumpot try jump start his car after it died while he was in Mozam, and who do I see on TV? My buddy Phil!
It was cool to see one of my buddies on TV instead of me for a change. I’m on TV all the time. I’ll sleep anywhere when I’m drunk 😉
Needless to say, from that point on I was glued to the set. I went to school and varsity with Phil, but hadn’t seen the guy probably since 2005, so I was rooting for him 100%. We used to row together back in highschool, and no by ‘rowing’ I don’t mean this:
I mean this:
It’s a physically demanding sport and as far as I could tell, Phil still does it, which is why he probably decided to enter the Bar One Manhunt.
From what I can tell, the idea behind the show is a whole bunch of guys get taken through one gruelling physical task after the next, and with each task, or series of tasks they go through more and more guys get eliminated until there is just one left.
And that one guy, after surviving countless hellish tasks, pushing his body to the limit, sweating blood and getting his ass kicked all over public TV, after going through all that shit, that one guy wins…
A Bar One?
Who fucking knows? Not me. It might have slipped my attention, but I’ve watched two shows so far and still have no idea what they’re actually competing for. That’s a pretty major fail if you ask me.
The other major fail is the fact that the show is hosted by Ursula Stapelfeldt, who scares the living crap out of me. Just have a look at this smile, it’s like staring directly into the sun.
Ursula. Likes. To speak. Like this. While making. Lame. Gestures. With. Her hands.
I mean, yeah, the contestants on the show are a bunch of meathead guys mostly, who’re probably way better at competing in triathlons than they are understanding complicated instructions, but c’mon, they’re not retarded, and nor are we.
Last week ended on this mind blowing cliff-hanger because the show chose to throw all the rules of reality TV out the window and instead of ending the episode by telling us who actually got eliminated, they chose instead to pump the dramatic music to a nauseating level as. They. Announced. That. The. First two people. To. Be. Eliminated. From. The Bar One. Manhunt.
[To Be Continued]
Ow! My balls!
Thanks guys, great climax right there. Go suck a fuck.
So I sat diligently in front of the telly last night for the second episode of the show, which began with two people getting eliminated – how random. There’s a reason why every reality show on TV follows the same format, don’t fuck with that. No one gives a damn if you eliminate people at the beginning of a TV show.
We haven’t built up any kind of relationship with those guys over the course of the episode, we don’t give a rat’s ass that they have to go home, hell, we can’t even remember who they were, a week has gone by! If something can hold my attention for longer than 5 minutes, call Guinness. But a week?
From there the episode started wandering all over the place like a drunk trying to find a McDonalds in a frog storm. The first challenge was to build a raft out of barrels, wooden planks and nylon rope. Both teams’ rafts fell to pieces the second they went through the first set of rapids, for which neither team were penalised in any way.
After that some quad biking ensued, followed by a spot of cycling, a fucktarded ‘mental’ challenge involving a number of poles that both teams solved in about 40 seconds and then a jog to the finish line the following morning where we all held our breath for the earth shattering news that. The people. Getting. Eliminated. From this week’s episode. Were…
Christ! My balls!
Non elimination round. Thank you very much for watching. That’s 30 minutes of your life you can NEVER GET BACK.
Phil rocked though. Forget the show itself, just watch it for Phil and if he gets eliminated, stop watching the show immediately or Ursula’s 1000000 Watt smile will make you blind.