There’s a reality TV show for just about every aspect of life. A lot of what’s served up appeals to the basic human instincts for survival –&nbsp;foremost, the need for food and shelter. But I can’t help wondering what the&nbsp;estimated 795 million people who don’t have enough to eat each day might&nbsp;make of Masterchef, or how the world’s estimated 100 million homeless&nbsp;people would react to The Block. It hardly bears thinking about, so most people – including me – hardly ever do.&nbsp; But TV networks and productions companies? They know only too well that&nbsp;shows about food and cooking and fresh produce and bedrooms and roofing&nbsp;and fireplaces and walk-in pantries tap into prehistoric areas of our psyche. So do a host of other shows like The Bachelor (which is about as caveman as it&nbsp;comes) and the ubiquitous Survivor. Other reality shows, however, cater to our less pressing concerns and instead&nbsp;explore niche human interests like getting tattoos, driving cars, loading trucks,&nbsp;losing weight, getting admitted to hospital, firing guns, buying art, having pets,&nbsp;wearing fashion, being healthy, making music, putting toddlers in tiaras and&nbsp;everything in-between. The remainder of the reality genre – bizarrely – seems to be taken up by&nbsp;programs about people going to work. Who would have thought that the&nbsp;labour force would knock off from their day jobs, go home and unwind by&nbsp;flipping on the telly and watching some other poor bastard go to work? Reality&nbsp;TV execs, that’s who. And the success of “men at work” sub-genre juggernauts like The Deadliest&nbsp;Catch, Ice Road Truckers, Dirtiest Jobs and American Chopper are proof that&nbsp;these people know what makes us tick. Yes, it’s fair to say reality TV has&nbsp;plumbed just about every subject you could think to point at camera at.&nbsp; Except for ... That’s right, I believe there is a yawning hole in Australia’s reality diet. It’s been&nbsp;a staple of Australian life almost since the First Fleet set up camp and it is&nbsp;popular among men and women alike. Heck, some would say it’s up there with&nbsp;food and shelter as a basic human need. And it would be ratings gold. Liquid&nbsp;gold. Yep. I’m talking about alcohol. Where on earth is the reality TV show centred on Australia’s favourite pastime&nbsp;of getting right on the drink? As far as I can see there’s only one locally-made&nbsp;program that’s in anyway linked to grogging on; the egregious and nasty RBT. I reckon it’s about time someone made a show that celebrates our love affair&nbsp;with the bottle instead of focusing on a few bad apples who do the wrong&nbsp;thing. After all, in a country like Australia, the possibilities are endless. While it’s easy to imagine standard fly-on-the-wall reality romps about the&nbsp;goings-on at one of our world class wineries or perhaps an intimate series that&nbsp;charts a craft beer brewer’s dream of cracking into the big-time, I believe&nbsp;there’s room to exploit the theatre and folklore that can come hand-in-hand&nbsp;with getting a massive skinful. I’m blue-skying here but don’t tell me you&nbsp;wouldn’t watch the following: My Big, Bad Night on the Drink:&nbsp;Hosted by&nbsp;Grant Hackett on a set decked out like a trashed lounge room, these 30 minute&nbsp;episodes would each feature interviews with three prominent Aussies as they&nbsp;recount the time they went too far on the grog and ended up in the papers. Ideally each episode would come out of the blocks with a big name guest, like&nbsp;former PM Kevin Rudd discussing the time he got flogged in Manhattan in&nbsp;2007 with expat Aussie editor of the New York Post (and my former boss) Col&nbsp;Allan and ended up in Scores strip club. In addition to the interview, if no security camera or smart phone footage&nbsp;exists from the nights in question, producers could stage blurry re-enactments.&nbsp; Each guest would be required to do their best to recount the events,&nbsp;remember exactly what they’d been drinking, how many they had and how&nbsp;they felt once they’d sobered up and realised the pickle they were in. As the show’s signature narrative device, guests would finish off with a&nbsp;straight-at-the-camera declaration on what they learnt from the experience. In&nbsp;K. Rudd’s case it might be “Stay away from Col! He’s a monster on the turps.” Other high value guests might include former Australian cricket captain Ricky&nbsp;Ponting to reminisce about the time he was so pissed in a Kings Cross nightclub&nbsp;he ended up getting flattened by a bouncer. Or Today Show host Karl&nbsp;Stefanovic on how he fronted a live TV show while still maggoted the morning&nbsp;after the 2009 Logies. “Should’ve done it earlier in my career,” one could&nbsp;imagine Karl saying. “It did wonders for my public image.” The Biggest Boozer:&nbsp;This would be more in&nbsp;line with old-school reality shows, this one hour weekly series would whittle&nbsp;down a field of 20 notable pissheads through a series of challenges in order to&nbsp;crown Australia’s biggest boozer. Hosted by David Boon, TBB would put contestants to the test in a range of&nbsp;drinking-related scenarios. Naturally there’d be an endurance test in which&nbsp;drinkers would have to attempt to down 52 cans of beer in 24 hours a-la&nbsp;Boonie’s record-setting session on a flight from Sydney to London in 1989. Other “challenges” would test and rank competitors in skills including drink-tray carrying, home-brewing, pissed dancing, round shouting, general co-ordination, straight line walking and resisting the natural urge to tell the same&nbsp;story over and over again.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; Masterdrunk:&nbsp;A straight spin-off from&nbsp;Masterchef, this program would see contestants vie for the coveted title of&nbsp;Masterdrunk based on their ability to make to make $4 Aldi wine palatable&nbsp;using mixers. Imagine Matt Preston sidling up to contestant Roy as he slaves&nbsp;away in the Masterdrunk kitchen: Matt: “What are you working on there?” Roy: “Yeah Matt, I’m calling it a Red Rocket. I’ve decided to combine the&nbsp;cheap, nasty white wine with creaming soda, lemonade and a dash of&nbsp;raspberry cordial.” Matt: “So you’re altering colour&nbsp;and&nbsp;flavour? I&nbsp;can’t wait to taste it.”&nbsp;&nbsp; Bottom’s up.