Category Archives: TV

Hot Summer Reality TV Shows

I. Love. Reality. Television. More than anything else in the world, reality television has been fuel for this blog. I know, I know…how sad. Or is it? While I could be making social or political observations, I’m watching these gems so that you don’t have to. I view it as a charitable act of kindness directed at you, my reader. And, you’re welcome, by the way.

So, the latest addition to my reality TV viewing line-up is a determined little show entitled Greatest American Dog. It’s a real gem. In fact, Jeff said last night as we were watching that it’s really the Crowned: The Mother of all Pageants for the summer TV season, and I have to agree. If you remember, Crowned was that show where the mothers and daughters competed in a several month long pageant. We were subjected to their “talent,” their cat fights, their public appearances, and their “charitable” acts. Priceless.

Greatest American Dog is ridiculous. The contestants are emotionally unbalanced (the people, not the dogs). The host is a sexy zoologist. Besides the viewers, the real victims are the dogs. All this adds up to one hilarious hour of programming. I don’t think that’s what they were going for, by the way. But I’m not going to fully review the show just yet. I’m still collecting material. It’s gonna be good, though, friends. It’s gonna be good.

Another goodie is Bravo’s Shear Genius, where we see just who is a “cut above the rest.” Hosted by Jaclyn Smith, whose hair is always fabulous, this show features 12 emotionally unbalanced hair stylists wielding sharp objects and a mentor who sounds like Elmer Fudd (Rene Fris). See-wious-wee.

This past week we said good-bye to the only straight male contestant Matthew. I was going to count how many times he mentioned his wife, but I got irritated and quit. I guarantee, though, that he mentioned her at least twice in each sentence. For instance, “It’s good that I got kicked off, because now I can return to my wife who loves me and I love my wife the same…I tried to envision how my wife would look in this dress and how my wife would want her hair done…and when I go home to sleep with my wife, my wife will tell me that she loves me and I’ll tell my wife that I love her…” AAAGGGHHH!!! We get it, you have a wife. You’re straight. Right. Anyone who feels the need to mention their “wife” that much makes me seriously question their “straightness.” Her name is probably George.

I’m sure I’ll have much more to update you on as the summer reality TV season continues to sizzle. I plan to secretly watch the new Bravo series featuring Jo & Slade from The Real Housewives of Orange County. Also, this week Project Runway, Season 5 starts. It’s gonna be good, folks.

She Forced Me to Do It

I am really embarrassed to be doing this. I thought that I could just leave her alone, that she would slip on past without requiring any further mentioning. But, she’s done it again. This past week on American Idol, Paula Abdul commented or “judged” a performance that hadn’t happened yet. We were down to the five remaining Idols performing Neil Diamond songs. They each performed two songs. The Idols would all sing their first song without any individual judging. Then the judges were to comment on all five of the performers’ first songs at the same time, sort of a quick overview of their opinions for all five (normally, they comment after each individual’s performance).

Evidently, the change was a little too much for Paula Abdul. She started in her usual drugged-up way, lots of rambling about nothing, telling the performers that they were in “the zone” or that they had found “the pocket.” What? Anyway, she commented on Jason Castro’s first song. Fine. And then she proceeded to comment on how she felt about his second song, how it didn’t quite “do it for her” or something. Now, I usually tune out when she speaks and had to tune back in to catch what she was mumbling. The problem was that Jason Castro hadn’t sung his second song yet.

Now, it’s common knowledge that the judges listen to the dress rehearsal performances. And, so, they have often heard the songs before the LIVE! performance. So, Paula had heard the second song. Whatever. I don’t believe that Paula actually thinks about what she says, though. What’s funny to me is that after Randy reminded her that they’ve only sung the first song, she tried to play dumb. Now, watching Paula Abdul try to “play dumb” would be like watching George W. try to poke fun at someone who has poor “grammar skills.” You can’t be dumb and “play dumb.” She said, “Oh, I thought that he had already sung his second song.” Then followed with, “This is hard.”

Really? What part of telling singers–who have much better vocal skills than her–how to sing, or rather, how to find “the zone” is hard? If you remember, back toward the beginning of the season, Paula released her new ‘comeback’ single, “Dance Like There’s No Tomorrow.” I found it very interesting that she didn’t even perform the song on the show. They just played the video. I guess she was trying not to “outsing” the Idol performers. That’s commendable, Paula, because that would be truly difficult, trying to “find your zone” and just be “in that pocket where you are at your best.”

I’m sorry if I come across as being a little too anti-Paula. I’m actually very pro-Paula. I seriously hope that she continues providing us with such an abundance of humorous material. I’m confident that she will. And, when she does, remember, that she forced me to do this.

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I thought it would be fun to review another great moment in Paula history, the infamous “Paula Abdul Drunk Interview.” Enjoy…

Enough Already with the F$%#@! "Path to’s!"

I’ve mentioned before that I love self-help books. Oh yes, there isn’t a self-help book out there that I haven’t longingly flipped through hoping to find all the answers to all my questions. I should also mention that I am quite far along in my recovery… from self-help books. I no longer have a tall stack of these marvelous literary works sitting next to my couch just waiting for my perusal.

That’s not to say that I no longer read self-help books. I just am controlling my impulse to buy every fucking book that has “…the Path to…” in the title. “The Path to Enlightenment,” “The Path to a Healthy Back,” “The Path to a Great Self-Esteem,” “The Real Path to the Right Path…” AGGGGHHHHHH!!!!! Sorry, I think I just had an enlightened moment.

Unfortunately, recently I had a relapse. I gave in to the temptation and bought several self-help books. But, before I get to those books I need to say something. Hang on just a second while I compose myself…

Ok, everyone take a deep breath now. And exhale. I am about to say something that is probably going to get me banned from blogger.com. Wait for it… Wait for it… I’m ready. I am sick of Oprah. I am sick of all the “big gives.” I am sick of her “favorite things.” I am sick of the trips to Africa. And, most of all I am sick of “The Oprah Book Club.” Fuck. I feel better, but now I have to explain. First of all, she’s the self-appointed Mayor of Narcissist Village. That’s enough to drive anyone crazy. I think it’s swell that she wants to make the world a better place. Lovely. But, the Oprah franchise is getting just a little out of hand, don’t ya think? The show. The magazine. The schools. The online courses. It’s pretty sad that her stamp of approval is like winning the world series for a writer. It guarantees an immediate trip to the top of the best seller’s list.

I have to come clean, though. I am guilty of buying books because I saw them on her show. And, I am also guilty of enjoying some of them. For instance, I loved “Eat, Pray, Love.” But, after recently buying “The Secret,” “The Power of Now” and “A New Earth,” I am over it. First off, let me tell you just how much I hated “The Secret.” It’s Awful. Horrendous. I was so offended by that book that I got rid of it after reading just about 4 chapters. I gave it all the chance it deserved to prove to me it was good. And, it failed. I love the concept that there is power in positive thinking and even in negative thinking. But, to take it to the level of blaming the Holocaust on the Jews and cancer on one’s own negative thoughts, well now, that’s just fucked up. Sometimes bad things just happen. Or, sometimes they happen because an evil, inhumane ruler decides to try and wipe out an entire group of people.

Oh, crap. I’m really on my soapbox today. I had better watch my “stinkin’ thinkin’.” All I will say about the other two Eckhart Tolle books I purchased is that I about choked on the amount of conceited, self-congratulatory back-patting that I found in the introductions alone. According to the books, I guess I’m just not “enlightened” enough to be ready for them. In the words of Chelsea Handler, one of my favorite comedians, Mr. Tolle can “suck it, suck it real hard.” There.

I guess I’m not as evolved as I thought I was.

Saint Dominique

Look out Mother Teresa, there’s a new girl in town. And she’s hungry. Well, not in a Calcutta sort of way, but more like an ANTM sort of way. This is the type of shit I live for. I mean seriously. I sit watching America’s Next Top Model just waiting, hoping for someone to give me some precious jewel that I can take and run with. So, I’m just gonna get straight to the good stuff.

And, I quote…

“I wanna be like freakin’ Mother Teresa, but in a diva kind of way, okay?!”

–Cycle 10 contestant, Dominique

Wow. She said this shortly after she’d named several others whom she wanted to emulate. People such as Donald Trump, Oprah, etc… This girl from Columbus, OH, has got some serious narcissistic issues. To the point of being completely delusional. I love it. And to think that all the girls on the show hate her. This is where reality TV is really great, because you can’t edit this stuff in. No matter what context you put that clip into, Dominique just looks like an ass. I think I’m really starting to like her.

I don’t know what made that resonate with me so strongly. Maybe it’s the fact that she is putting Donald Trump and Mother Teresa in the same category. And then, to suggest that’s what she wanted for herself. Bless her heart. Dominique has such a healthy ego. Her version of self denial (if she even knows what that means) is restricting the number of times she compliments herself a day to less than 30. Also, I doubt that Mother Teresa ever had aspirations of being a Top Model. I could be wrong, though. I mean, they do share a certain man-ish quality. A certain je ne sais quoi. And, maybe late a night when she was all alone she practiced her wide-eye squint. So, Let’s compare photos:

Here’s our Blessed Mother Teresa looking fierce…

And, here’s the fabu St. Dominique…


I will admit that I did have to look hard to find a picture of her that was less than flattering. Damn Photoshop, damn you to hell.

I guess it’s not fair of me to single out St. Dominique when there are so many other seriously odd looking/behaving girls on the show. She just has made herself such an easy target. Which is the reason that I absolutely will never ever be a contestant on ANTM. I, too, have man-ish charateristics. As Tyra (or least I think it was her…) puts it, “There is a lot of ugly in the business of being pretty.” Truer words have never been spoken, Tyra.

Miss America…LIVE!

Yesterday, Jeff and I made ourselves sick with the amount of TV we watched. I hate when that happens. I just didn’t know when to quit. I think this is how Jeff put it: “I feel gross.” And frankly, I did too. I think what really pushed it over the edge was watching Miss America…Live!, the culmination of a 4-week Miss America reality show and 2-hour re-creation of the Miss America Pageant.

Let me start by saying that I love beauty pageants. I grew up watching the Miss America pageant. And, I loved every minute of it’s plastic glory. I dreamed of saying:

“I’m Tyler Lee, a 5th grader majoring in music, and proud to be from Pleasantville, IOWA, the town where the name says it all and the state where the corn is tall! And, I want to be your next Miss America!”

I would sit in overly-eager anticipation waiting for the real Miss Iowa to take her turn at the microphone. I would sit and think, “Now she has a chance!” And, every year the title would go to some bimbo from Oklahoma or Texas or California. Oh, Miss Iowa often made it to the final 10, but the crown would inevitably go to someone who could sing “opera” or play the “violin,” never to Miss Iowa, who could only juggle flaming ears of corn. Have you ever juggled flaming ears of corn?

I didn’t think so.

And, I wasn’t disappointed last night to see that Miss Iowa was just as plastic as always–even after the 4-week reality series that was aimed at teaching the contestants how to be more real. I knew it would never work. Miss Iowa wouldn’t crack. She was totally a Stepford Wife. Minus the husband, of course. And, she was a finalist. But, alas, she didn’t win. But, she could have, if they hadn’t made this ridiculous push to make the contestants “real.”

I guess “real” to whomever runs the pageant means that girls wear jeans and tank tops, and that they are allowed to do their best stripper walk during the swimsuit competition. I kept on waiting for someone to drop it like it’s hot. Oh yeah, we also got to hear why they chose their evening gowns. Which, just made them seem more annoying and less worthy of the title Miss America.

I think what I always loved about the pageant as a kid was the fact that they didn’t quite seem real. I think that they called it “poised.” I would sit and wait for someone to mess up or trip or stutter. Then, I would think…Amateur. But, those days are gone. They’re all amateur. Except for good ol’ Miss Iowa. Tough as nails, nothing could wipe that smile off her face.

Here’s a great clip from the 80s. Do you remember when they would actually sing the opening song? This has everything that was great about the pageant…