There are no words to express the intensity of such a show. I was taken aback by the relentless efforts of VH1 trying to drag out anything Flavor Flav related... Creating show, after reality show, after game show about the small, gold-toothed, over-sized clock wearing rapper/drummer.
Admittedly, I must say that the only episode I managed to catch was the Season Finale. Thank God too because if I had started any earlier I think I would've had an aneurysm. I know what you must think, that I have a choice whether or not I watch these shows... But honestly once I get a taste of any new reality show, I become addicted and I am forced to watch week after week as America's dumbest get to shine on the tube. It's sick, I know.
This season finale was amazing. It was so classy, beautiful and truly charming. Right. You didn't believe me did you? After all, we are dealing with women who wanted to hook up with Flavor Flav and it's not like the VH1 recruiters went to Bloomingdales or Neiman Marcus to look for these girls... They most likely waited outside of strip club back doors and dive bars at 3 a.m.
The best was when Mo'Nique threw a party where the "girls" (I put quotes because I want to refer to them as another species but don't want to be totally rude) had to find the "renaissance man" which basically meant a guy who wasn't a complete waste of space. And, surprise surprise, oddly enough, not one of the girls managed to find him! Everyone was busy bumpin' and grindin', pretending to do the Monica Lewinsky on an ice sculpture, getting trashed, throwin' down, you know- the usual. It was great. And sadly, "Pumkin" was sent home for being a whore- this time I'm serious. It was hilarious.
So then, there were the four girls who made it through the wild party, and then they had to "study" and pass a Q & A. After two people were let go, those two had to "write an essay" of why they should win. This was so great. We had Smiley and Saaphyri, two top notch girls, duking it out for the big ole prize pot. During their speeches, Mo'Nique was crying, Buckeey was bawling- what great television.
What I find very odd is that Saaphyri is under some weird impression that by winning the prize ($50,000) she will be able to buy a house. And what is even stranger is that the remaining contestants were rooting for her to win so she can get a house. Um, don't these people know that she won't find a house for $50,000- wait- make that $25,000 after taxes? So wonderful. Such pure hearts and empty brains. It was quite a lovely ending... Saaphyri got her weave replaced with a more classier monotone weave, she got a dress that fit around her boobs without making her look totally slutty, and she got the money. She's gonna buy a house! Yay! (Can't wait for the update where we will learn that she blew all her money on more bad weave jobs)
Monday, July 30, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Hey Paula! Are you okay?
Oh no. I just realized my blog is turning into a Reality Show Rant Blog. Crap. What has my life come to? I. Am. A. Disappointment. Oh well...
Hey Paula! is seriously the best thing in reality TV right now. (Man alive, I'm going there...) Honestly, this is a must-watch-at-least-once reality show. I know I will only have more to say about this topic in the weeks to come but here's what I've got for now:
Last year I used to work with a woman at a job, where we had no lives and lived vicariously through trashy magazines- this is a terrible lifestyle, I do no recommend it to anyone! And, well, American Idol, was the workplace's centerpiece and all we did was talk about Paula Abdul... We even dubbed her "Crazy Aunt Paula" because she was always nice to everyone but "seemed" drunk at all times- kind of like that embarrassing aunt we all have that means well but we don't want to introduce her to anyone we know lest she say something. Already you may say, "This girl is pathetic." And I can only agree with you... But bear with me.
Let me begin with a quote from Paula Abdul herself: "I am sick and tired of people not treating me like the gift that I am."
Um. Right. Even if I were in a pretty box with a shiny ribbon wrapped up all around it I don't think I'd ever refer to myself as a "gift"; but Paula did and oh boy is she right! What a true gift to be able to really get in there and experience Paula Abdul's more than pointless but hectic life...
Now, what is the point of this show? I think it's so we can all go: "*Sigh* That Paula Abdul, oh man does she work her butt off." Is it to set the record straight that she is not a druggie or an alkie? Who knows... Honestly it perpetuates the idea that Paula is a little more than "off". And okay, maybe she doesn't get drunk and maybe she doesn't take, what she refers to as "recreational drugs" but then something is seriously wrong with her. I think it's a great thing when people think drugs and alcohol abuse are the reasons behind the behavior of the "out of control" celebrity because there is an excuse, a reason, a way for this type of behavior. So what Paula is essentially saying is that "No I don't get drunk! No I don't use illegal drugs! I am this way naturally." Personally, I'd blame the drugs and alcohol if it were me, that way people don't think I am a lunatic.
I guess I can see what Paula is saying... Maybe it is unfair what the tabloids say... After all how are we supposed to know she was in an airplane crash? She's the one who never talked about it. She's the one who takes the painkillers and never opened up about it. Of course the public is going to think what they do- she's off her freakin' rocker! This woman cries if her hairstylist can't catch a flight to NY to meet her on Letterman, or if QVC doesn't give her, for gratis, some jewelry for her Idol contestants.
Maybe it's the lack of sleep though. Apparently, Paula doesn't sleep, ever. She claims she can't sleep for more than three hours a night, that is if she gets a chance to catch some shut eye- then she's up for 48 hours at a time. Sounds healthy to me.
Hey Paula! is seriously the best thing in reality TV right now. (Man alive, I'm going there...) Honestly, this is a must-watch-at-least-once reality show. I know I will only have more to say about this topic in the weeks to come but here's what I've got for now:
Last year I used to work with a woman at a job, where we had no lives and lived vicariously through trashy magazines- this is a terrible lifestyle, I do no recommend it to anyone! And, well, American Idol, was the workplace's centerpiece and all we did was talk about Paula Abdul... We even dubbed her "Crazy Aunt Paula" because she was always nice to everyone but "seemed" drunk at all times- kind of like that embarrassing aunt we all have that means well but we don't want to introduce her to anyone we know lest she say something. Already you may say, "This girl is pathetic." And I can only agree with you... But bear with me.
Let me begin with a quote from Paula Abdul herself: "I am sick and tired of people not treating me like the gift that I am."
Um. Right. Even if I were in a pretty box with a shiny ribbon wrapped up all around it I don't think I'd ever refer to myself as a "gift"; but Paula did and oh boy is she right! What a true gift to be able to really get in there and experience Paula Abdul's more than pointless but hectic life...
Now, what is the point of this show? I think it's so we can all go: "*Sigh* That Paula Abdul, oh man does she work her butt off." Is it to set the record straight that she is not a druggie or an alkie? Who knows... Honestly it perpetuates the idea that Paula is a little more than "off". And okay, maybe she doesn't get drunk and maybe she doesn't take, what she refers to as "recreational drugs" but then something is seriously wrong with her. I think it's a great thing when people think drugs and alcohol abuse are the reasons behind the behavior of the "out of control" celebrity because there is an excuse, a reason, a way for this type of behavior. So what Paula is essentially saying is that "No I don't get drunk! No I don't use illegal drugs! I am this way naturally." Personally, I'd blame the drugs and alcohol if it were me, that way people don't think I am a lunatic.
I guess I can see what Paula is saying... Maybe it is unfair what the tabloids say... After all how are we supposed to know she was in an airplane crash? She's the one who never talked about it. She's the one who takes the painkillers and never opened up about it. Of course the public is going to think what they do- she's off her freakin' rocker! This woman cries if her hairstylist can't catch a flight to NY to meet her on Letterman, or if QVC doesn't give her, for gratis, some jewelry for her Idol contestants.
Maybe it's the lack of sleep though. Apparently, Paula doesn't sleep, ever. She claims she can't sleep for more than three hours a night, that is if she gets a chance to catch some shut eye- then she's up for 48 hours at a time. Sounds healthy to me.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Age of Love... What they really meant to say is: Age of Lust
I don't know much about the history of this show... And by history I mean 5 weeks. I don't even know the "formula" of this reality show but who really needs to know all of that when this is supposed to represent some form of the real world anyway.
I caught "Age of Love" mid-episode, twentysomethings frolicking on the beach and a cougar throwing a fit under an umbrella. I didn't want to watch it but my friend had it recorded on DVR- I had no choice really.
My main problem with reality shows that feature a "bachelor" and a slew of "single" women is the kissing. Of course, it wouldn't be worth watching if Mark P. wasn't a slut of some form. But how is it attractive to watch the guy (you supposedly are in love with) making out with ten different women- in front of you? I mean, the worst part is, a twentysomething girl will be laying in his Moroccan cradle and he will tell her that his feelings are mutual, blah, blah blah and then he'll vanish for a half-an-hour with some fortysomething and feed her the same crap. Then he makes out and plays footsies and back scratch under the covers- with both of them at the same time. It's disturbing how this "famous" tennis player, who by the way has the suckiest Australian accent ever, thinks he is actually "caring" for these women... He just wants action and he'll kiss, touch, and sex `em all until he has found "the one".
Of course it needs to be said that the women on the show aren't very smart and are downright conniving. Perhaps they are playing the same game of Advantage - Love with Mark P that he is with them... It's only right that the 40s get their share of young lovin', they have the right.
And sadly, us, as a loyal audience will be so disappointed when we hear that him and the chosen lady have broken up. We must be aware that he and the winner are in hiding right now as I type this good-for-nothing vent. Then, when the story breaks, the media will be so "overwhelming" that they just can't take the scrutinization of the public microscope. Pathetic.
And I have one more complaint: where the heck was Mark Consuelos during the whole show? He wasn't even there for the elimination... Lame.
I caught "Age of Love" mid-episode, twentysomethings frolicking on the beach and a cougar throwing a fit under an umbrella. I didn't want to watch it but my friend had it recorded on DVR- I had no choice really.
My main problem with reality shows that feature a "bachelor" and a slew of "single" women is the kissing. Of course, it wouldn't be worth watching if Mark P. wasn't a slut of some form. But how is it attractive to watch the guy (you supposedly are in love with) making out with ten different women- in front of you? I mean, the worst part is, a twentysomething girl will be laying in his Moroccan cradle and he will tell her that his feelings are mutual, blah, blah blah and then he'll vanish for a half-an-hour with some fortysomething and feed her the same crap. Then he makes out and plays footsies and back scratch under the covers- with both of them at the same time. It's disturbing how this "famous" tennis player, who by the way has the suckiest Australian accent ever, thinks he is actually "caring" for these women... He just wants action and he'll kiss, touch, and sex `em all until he has found "the one".
Of course it needs to be said that the women on the show aren't very smart and are downright conniving. Perhaps they are playing the same game of Advantage - Love with Mark P that he is with them... It's only right that the 40s get their share of young lovin', they have the right.
And sadly, us, as a loyal audience will be so disappointed when we hear that him and the chosen lady have broken up. We must be aware that he and the winner are in hiding right now as I type this good-for-nothing vent. Then, when the story breaks, the media will be so "overwhelming" that they just can't take the scrutinization of the public microscope. Pathetic.
And I have one more complaint: where the heck was Mark Consuelos during the whole show? He wasn't even there for the elimination... Lame.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Victoria Beckham is Coming to America... Can we send her back?
Desperate to escape Hollywood, I am only sucked back in by it's gripping claws.
I visited London last year and I heard that Ms. Posh Spice otherwise known as Mrs. David Beckham, is much like America's perception of Paris Hilton... A waste of space. I laughed as I usually do at these tidbits of information.
Recently, I cringed at the thought that L.A's Galaxy team brought on board "soccer superstar" David Beckham... During the last bout of championships, I watched him play, wherever that was, and thought, "Hmm, that's weird, he sucks." So it's only befitting that someone who is now a deflating soccer athelete join L.A's "football" team. And it's only proper that sponsors throw millions of dollars at his feet (or really at Posh's high-heeled feet).
I want to be one of those people who say, "I don't have a television." But really, who am I kidding? I even have a fancy DVR now, so I can record a bunch of crap I don't need to infect my brain with. I found this wildly tittilating NBC reality show that said the words "Victoria Beckham" in the title, and, intrigued, I could not not record it! I had to. I wanted to know if I had a right to hate her or not. And, well, I must say, I think I, in fact, do have a right to hate her.
She isn't funny... Well sometimes she was a bit humorous, but I was laughing at her not with her. She is spoiled, selfish, conceited, rude, annoying, (I could keep going). Just another Brit you say? I say, "No way!" First of all, okay, fine, she was in the Spice Girls, they were "successful" by financial standards but that wasn't music we were listening to... She fell off the face of the American planet until she hit the big time with David Beckham. Boy did she strike it rich right there... Therefore, all the money that followed her down the aisle, created this amazing monster we see today.
I need to stop. Breathe. I am getting too involved in this... This is exactly what they wanted. "They" meaning NBC. They wanted me, the audience, to remember her, to want to see her live in her self-indulgent non-reality universe. They want me to keep recording the damn show. They want me to hate her but secretly love her. Oh no, am I loving hating Victoria Beckham?
I visited London last year and I heard that Ms. Posh Spice otherwise known as Mrs. David Beckham, is much like America's perception of Paris Hilton... A waste of space. I laughed as I usually do at these tidbits of information.
Recently, I cringed at the thought that L.A's Galaxy team brought on board "soccer superstar" David Beckham... During the last bout of championships, I watched him play, wherever that was, and thought, "Hmm, that's weird, he sucks." So it's only befitting that someone who is now a deflating soccer athelete join L.A's "football" team. And it's only proper that sponsors throw millions of dollars at his feet (or really at Posh's high-heeled feet).
I want to be one of those people who say, "I don't have a television." But really, who am I kidding? I even have a fancy DVR now, so I can record a bunch of crap I don't need to infect my brain with. I found this wildly tittilating NBC reality show that said the words "Victoria Beckham" in the title, and, intrigued, I could not not record it! I had to. I wanted to know if I had a right to hate her or not. And, well, I must say, I think I, in fact, do have a right to hate her.
She isn't funny... Well sometimes she was a bit humorous, but I was laughing at her not with her. She is spoiled, selfish, conceited, rude, annoying, (I could keep going). Just another Brit you say? I say, "No way!" First of all, okay, fine, she was in the Spice Girls, they were "successful" by financial standards but that wasn't music we were listening to... She fell off the face of the American planet until she hit the big time with David Beckham. Boy did she strike it rich right there... Therefore, all the money that followed her down the aisle, created this amazing monster we see today.
I need to stop. Breathe. I am getting too involved in this... This is exactly what they wanted. "They" meaning NBC. They wanted me, the audience, to remember her, to want to see her live in her self-indulgent non-reality universe. They want me to keep recording the damn show. They want me to hate her but secretly love her. Oh no, am I loving hating Victoria Beckham?
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