So You Think You Can Dance is lame.

Admittedly, being obsessed with TV show makes calling it lame seem extremely hypocritical, but I stand by my title.

I'm only obsessed by it because I'm just stupidly jealous of everyone involved.

Take a seat friends, I have something to tell you.

I can't dance.

Nor do I think I can dance.... well there was that one time at Mustang Bar where the cover band nailed that rendition of 'Ride Around Sally' and I had my comfortable shoes on and just the right amount of Smirnoff in my system. I could definitely dance that night. Ask anyone.

Misguided weekends in my teens aside. I still can't dance.

So naturally I hate everyone on that damn show. They're all too damn flexible and attractive and balanced and coordinated and I'm not.

So in my true style, I've formed a list of bad stuff about it to make myself feel better.

Here we go....

Too many vagina shots

Don't even try to pretend you're not looking. Every time they do a lift and the chick is thrown over the dude's neck there is some serious leg spreadage going on. Something tells me the cameramen are lonely.

Natalie Bassingthwaighte

I don't think you're meant to bag out pregnant women, you're only meant to use words like 'glowing', 'hormonal' and 'curvy' (or anything to make 'fat' less harsh) so I'll go easy on that frozen-foreheaded freak. BUT WHAT IS THE POINT OF HER? No one liked 1000 Stars okay? Stop trying to hijack the show for your popstar ambitions. Just quietly go back to being the other woman in Dr Carl Kennedy's life so we can pretend to hate (but secretly love) you Izzy.

She also has an extremely annoying nose crinkle, not like those cute girls who pull it off and look even cuter with them, just this sort of twitch that makes you want to hand her a tissue before she sneezes.

The old judge who uses too many French dance terms.

Yup, got it, you CAN dance, and you know the correct terms but I don't speak dancequeen so you'll need to use simplified terms for us plebs. So don't give me that 'plie' crap, I want 'bendy knee move' and while you're at it cut the 'Sissonne' when 'jumpy jump' will do just fine. Plus he's one of those people who uses the squint to make it seem like he's got glittery eyes that just shine with emotion when ''witnessing dance in it's true beauty''. It just makes him look like an old guy struggling to read a menu then admitting defeat and just assuming there's a steak sandwich on the menu and ordering that.

Hugging

There is just waaaaaaaaay to much hugging on that show. I understand they are partners and are making dance history and blah blah blah so a hug here and there to celebrate is fine. However, it is NOT cool to hug people when you first meet them! The dancers open the door up to their choreographer for the week and hug the shit out of them... AND THEN INTRODUCE THEMSELVES!!

The excessive use of slow motion

Besides the dancing, the single best bit is the little packages in between that show the behind the scenes stuff, they all look like they have so much damn fun and have awesome outfits to match. They say really nice things about each other and it's all edited nicely into the ultimate montage and then BAM! they have to go and throw in a freaking slow motion ending so everyone's smile just twinkles that little bit. It's laaaaame. It's also overused, they put it in when someone falls, when someone laughs, when someone turns their head, when someone tosses their hair, when Natalie frowns (just to prove she is capable of facial expressions I guess) and ALWAYS when someone cries. CRYING IN SLOW MOTION IS NOT SEXY. There's snot, red blotches, stretched faces and awkward side hugs involved. Stop it, enough is enough.

Unnecessarily long shots of the choreographers reaction

Especially when they dancers royally fucked up the dance. The poor choreographer has to smile through gritted teeth and look happy even though they're totally thinking "thanks for fucking up my career you pimply shit, how hard is a backflip onto a piano? Seriously?!"

But it's possibly even more annoying when they ace the dance and they just go back and forth between the dancers and the choreographers blowing kisses and bowing in appreciation as if to say 'No I love you more! No you!'.

Yep, you did good, NEXT!

Despite it's shit parts, I still love SYTYCD (Yes I'm cool enough to abbreviate it, only true fans have that right) and I'll still watch and be jealous and sulk, I'll just make sure I turn over as soon as I see Nat Bas's (again abb. = awes.) face and watch Customs and wonder whether that's a pimple or a mole on Damian Walshe-Howling's forehead.

Swap meets are lame.

Seriously, fuck you Cleo magazine.

You think you're all inspirational for women?

You think you can change our body\fashion sense\ financial situation with a quiz?

You think you can put a perfectly tanned model in a cute floral dress next to some kooky idea or recipe and it will equal success.

WELL YOU'RE WRONG!

....but it doesn't mean I didn't try it anyway.

"Want to make some easy money? Grab some girlfriends and head to your local swap meet! A great way to clean out your closet and make some cash so you can buy some ---> insert expensive shoe brand here. And who knows? If you all giggle and wear your shortest shorts -you'll probably meet some hot boys with hot bods while you're there! Tee hee!"

Ok so the article probably wasn't that see through or that poorly written, but you get the point. Women's magazines make shit sound fun that just isn't. Anyway, when I realised I had a whole heap of crap lying around from moving house and taking anything from my parents place that wasn't nailed down, it was time to delve into the world of the Sunday morning swap meet.

You can't really describe a swap meet to someone who hasn't been there before. It's something you just have to experience. But the word must be spread to the ignorant so they don't find themselves unprepared. So what I've done is create a bit of a dictionary so you're not going in blind. A bit of a ''Dummie's Guide To...'' type of thing;

Swappie (n) [swop-pee]

a hardcore extremist in the swap meet world. These creatures can be recognised by the absence of dark rings beneath their eyes as they did not have to get up at 3.30am to get a good spot, instead they parked their packed car in the line last night and caught a taxi back to their prime position with a smug look on their face.

The mating call of this creature sounds like 'daaarl, the food van is open now, want some 'mato sauce on ya double bacon and cheese roll? And you want a double mocha ice chill or just a choc iced coffee chill?'

They have no sense of community amongst their own kind and can become fiercely competitive, especially when marking territory. Aggression is not uncommon when arguing about who's trestle table has rightful spot of bay H7.

Bargain (adj) [baaaaaaaar-gun]

Anything broken, soiled, useless, expired or mangled that has been purchased for at least 1\80th of its price when new. This includes: digital cameras with no battery or charger, Kitchen appliances from the '60s that 'just need a new cord', old necklaces with no clasp but 'would be good for the beads', unframed artwork, someone else's shoes, CD's that may or may not be blank, lids to pots, a single earring, VHS videos and auto parts of European cars that were discontinued in 1943.

Rotary volunteer (n) [wanker]

When you think of Rotary, you think of sweet old people who just want to help. Or you think of those Lion's Mints that are always on the counters of banks and Medicare and you have to beg your Mum for an extra 20c so you can upgrade to the 50c redskins. What I'm saying is Rotary people are meant to be nice. But in the world of swap meets they remind you of your evil Year 5 teacher who was a nazi when it came to tucking in your shirt. They have a fierce respect for lines, and any attempt to skip\shorten\avoid a line in any form will be met with an extremely furrowed brow and a "back of the line, no pushing in!". (Note: I didn't skip any lines, this was purely an observation of other, less swap meet practised people. Tsk, tsk.)
Rotarians of the male kind should resemble Santa, complete with jolly personality and female Rotarians should embody Mrs Doubtfire. When they yell at you for having your broken whipper snipper handle hanging 0.8cm over your marked bay, it's like finding out the Easter Bunny isn't real.

How much? (phrase) [it's unspoken, often just a look in your direction with eyebrows raised]

A rather difficult procedure in which there is no correct response. Be assured that no matter what you say, whether fair or not, will be met with resistance. Try not to let the phrase "but it's the principle!" get a hold of you. Remember this junk is all CRAP, you do not want it, sell it in return for any amount of money. You WANT money.

For example...
Swappie:How much for this 1995 Alanis Morrisette CD?
Me: Umm, 50c?
Swappie: Oooooh, guy next door is selling a 1996 version for 35c.
Me (aching to get out of there): Ok well I'll give you ten of those CDs for two dollars.
Swappie: how bout 75c?
Me: Screw you.

...

...

Me: Deal.