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