I wouldn't piss on them if they were on fire and I'd drunk a gallon of Diet Coke not two hours ago. I couldn't have spent more than five minutes with any one of them, never mind 10 weeks in a house with only ten beds and a see-through bog.
I shall be doing a lot of reading this summer (though I usually succumb and start watching somewhere around week 6 or so)
ETA, who am I kidding? Unless eagles swoop from the skies and pluck my eyes out, I'll be watching by week six.
At some point or other, remind me to write a defence of (small amounts of) reality TV. Or maybe I could get a life. One or the other.