The sex scenes in Underbelly are so overdone

How much sex is too much? If you tune into Underbelly: the golden mile, the third instalment in the hugely successful Underbelly series, you're bound to see a sex scene and 'elements' of nudity - usually the basketball-proportioned tits of some triple-jointed pole dancer being ogled by a gaggle of corrupt coppers.

But last night was 'ruly truly' OTT. There was a fast and hard sex scene in an underground car park (a dirty and grimy place at the best of times) against a car (it was standing-up sex). This was spliced in with a rape scene in a pool room at some seedy Kings Cross beer den. The perpetrators were those horrible cops, who handcuffed and gang-banged a young police woman.

If that wasn't awful enough, the alleged liaison between Kings Cross identity John Ibrahim and a policewoman went on and on - for at least three minutes of TV time. They were seriously humping like rabbits - fast and furious. It was relentless.

My question is, how much of this is necessary and how much is just sensational filler?

I didn't expect to see a romantic, soft focus sex scene between the actors who played Ibrahim and the policewoman. But I did expect something more creative. Instead, every camera angle was used to film the pair (this time it was sitting-up sex) doing the same boring stuff. Back view of rabbits at it, side view of rabbits still at it, front view of rabbits still going hard at it. The sex was more vigorous than a bar tender shaking an orgasm cocktail. But not as refreshing.

During a momentary pause in the humping, the actor who plays Ibrahim says, 'Put your uniform back on'. And the chick cop asks, 'Why?' to which he replies, 'So, I can watch you take it off again.'

The script had to be written by a man - make that a group of men.

I swear to god that if you timed the sex-and-chicks-with-mammoth-boob scenes, half the episode would be over.

I can live without such cheap thrills. From now on, I'll get my kicks from MasterChef 2. Gotta love the Matt!

A rave about the JJJ Hottest 100 of all time and The top rating TV show Masterchef

Forget the G8, Kim Jong Il's obsession with nuclear weapons and all the fuss around the Middle East and the GFC (no, it's not about chicken).

Here in Australia, the land of "no worries, she'll be right mate", we've been glued to radio JJJ's Hottest 100 of all time and the final countdown in Network Ten's reality show, Master Chef.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit and Jeff Buckley's version of the Leonard Cohen masterpiece Hallelujah topped the JJJ poll in first and second place respectively. But I am puzzled that an ordinary tune from Rage Against The Machine, Killing in the name, came in at number 3.

It just shows there's lots of Resch's drinking bogans out there with nothing better to do (that's the GFC for you) than cast multiple votes for their fave beer-swilling, head-banging anthems. Boring.

However, I was happy that Joy Division's ode to self-harm Love will tear us apart was number 4. I still clearly recall laying in the foetal position on a flea-infested lounge listening to Transmission back-to-back with Morrison Hotel in a share-house in the early '80s. Happy days.

But now I'm approaching senility, Masterchef Australia hits all the right buttons.

The show is rating off its crispy-skinned bottom. The contestants are cooking up a storm for the chance to win $100,000, a cookbook deal and something else (can't remember, but it's good).

It's an excellent show, but the irony is that most Australians barely know how to barbecue a snag and the idea of good night out is *Macca's, a bucket of KFC (yep, that's sort of like chicken) or Subway for something healthier.

Still, this week I'll be rooting for my favourite contestants - Julie (I have a feeling she'll be booted off), Justine with the big cow eyes, Julia and Poh.

That leaves the two boring male competitors. Can't remember the first one, but Spanner likes Chris. I think he's an arrogant Melburnian (what else is new?) who can only cook a lump of meat. Give him anything complicated and he falls apart.

It's a man thing.

*G'day to any Americans reading this. You will feel right at home when visiting our lovely country