Let’s be honest: the fun part isn’t just the date. It’s the absolute chaos that follows. I’m hoping for at least one contestant who claims they “love the outdoors” but screams at a spider the size of a biscuit.
We need a solid mix of emotional breakdowns, shocking betrayals over campfire beans, and at least one person who asks for a pillow. Every single day. That’s the content we live for.
The Trials We’re Dreaming About
Give us more creepy-crawlies and less “meditative yoga” in the Bush Telegraph. I want to see a celebrity try to meditate while a giant cockroach sits on their eyebrow. That’s real spiritual growth, folks.
Also, can we please have a trial called “Belly of the Beast” that involves actual jelly? I’m a simple person. I just want to see a soap star cry into a tank of fish guts. Is that too much to ask?
