For those that know me and know me well, it comes as no surprise when I tell you I am a reality TV addict. I love everything horrible and wrong about reality TV. Is it staged? Of course. Is it invasive and destructive? Have no doubt. Does it open doors to public humiliation like no other television genre? You bet your sweet padoobies it does. But really, can you honestly say that when you stubble across Patti Stanger while channel surfing the 4,381 channels you undoubtedly overpay your cable company for, you don’t become mesmerized not only by her forthrightness (that was me being polite) but by the incredibly brave souls that bare themselves hoping for a highlight clip on E! or TMZ.
Last night was the kick off to the new season of Dancing With The Stars. I’ve never watched this series before unless my mother was over for dinner and politely suggested we turn the TV on so that she could “watch her show”. I realized last night while an 80 year old Buzz Aldrin moon-walked his way onto the dance floor and showed us how unattractively we will dance as we not-so-gracefully grow old I don’t want that much reality, thank you very much. This man is an American Icon. A legend. Come hell or high water the man better make it through at least one elimination. THIS tribe has spoken!
But alas, the pièce de résistance was the one and only Pamela Anderson sexing up prime time television with her version of the Cha-Cha. Really? That’s what professional dancers wear when dancing the Cha-Cha? Bet it didn’t take that child illegally working in a third world country to sew on those 16 sequins ya got there, Sugar. The adjustment of her breastages while the hostess was interviewing her was the highlight of MY evening. I’m looking forward to her wardrobe choice for next week. Maybe, if we’re lucky, it will look something like this:
For other reality TV junkies, there’s a new show coming down the pike….CHECK!
Last night was the kick off to the new season of Dancing With The Stars. I’ve never watched this series before unless my mother was over for dinner and politely suggested we turn the TV on so that she could “watch her show”. I realized last night while an 80 year old Buzz Aldrin moon-walked his way onto the dance floor and showed us how unattractively we will dance as we not-so-gracefully grow old I don’t want that much reality, thank you very much. This man is an American Icon. A legend. Come hell or high water the man better make it through at least one elimination. THIS tribe has spoken!
But alas, the pièce de résistance was the one and only Pamela Anderson sexing up prime time television with her version of the Cha-Cha. Really? That’s what professional dancers wear when dancing the Cha-Cha? Bet it didn’t take that child illegally working in a third world country to sew on those 16 sequins ya got there, Sugar. The adjustment of her breastages while the hostess was interviewing her was the highlight of MY evening. I’m looking forward to her wardrobe choice for next week. Maybe, if we’re lucky, it will look something like this:
And so I post this one for you, guys, because through lottery winnings I’ve yet to attain and a sugar daddy I’ve never really put the time and effort into acquiring I will look and dance….just….like….this:
For other reality TV junkies, there’s a new show coming down the pike….CHECK!
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