I admit it. I like eating. I don't like Master Chef.

Hey, look. The people are nice, the judges are clever but the whole thing bores me to itchiness.

I know I am the only person in the entire country who doesn't like it.

I just don't get it the way the rest of you do.

I don't know how you can sit through so many close ups of nice people trying so hard to make nice things to eat in such a faked short space of time and the predictable line "and the winner is... we'll tell you after the break" and the utter seriousness of it all.

It's like waiting to see whether the prison warden will get a call from the Governor of Texas to forestall the condemned man's trip to the electric chair. It's like waiting for the chooks to lay. It's like waiting for the birth of a baby elephant. It's like watching your toenails grow. It's like losing weight over Christmas.

It's just food, people! Food. You get it in a bag at the deli!

I know. I am out of step. I am so alone.