Enough already with the little people, TLC! I have nothing against these (or any) little people, but that does not mean I want to watch them buy groceries and mow the lawn. No offense little people, but you are as boring as “normal” people. Just because you are wearing doll clothes, it does not make the mundane suddenly exciting. WOW, that was mean! Sorry about that little people, you just got hit with a little (no pun intended) rage shrapnel. My beef is really with TLC. The latest addition to their cavalcade of tiny people is “The Little Couple.” From what I gather it’s a show about a couple that is little. I bet the Roloff family from “Little People, Big World” is up in tiny arms over this new show.
Is it just me or is TLC turning into the freakshow tent of the basic cable circus? Seems like every time I whiz past TLC, there’s either an 800-lb. woman being lifted from her bedroom window by helicopter or a there’s a fucking guy turning into a tree. A TREE!
I’m sorry, but doesn’t TLC stand for “The Learning Channel?” What exactly am I learning from TLC? I’m learning to thank pretend God for not giving me two heads and extra hands growing out of my back.
I made the mistake of accidentally seeing the last 10 minutes of American Idol last night and now I want to hide inside my testicles for the rest of my life. When Adam Lambert and the other douchebag finalist started singing Queen’s “We Are The Champions” I was already booking my flight to L.A. so that I might kick them in their smooth areas. But I was not prepared for what was about to happen next. The stage opened up and there were the surviving members of Queen backing up these turd wads. Yeah, the real fucking god damn QUEEN sharing the stage and taking a backseat to those two motherfuckers! I don’t want to live in a world where Queen has to share a stage with Adam Lambert’s eyeliner. I’m sure as I write this Freddie Mercury’s corpse is zombie walking its way to Brian May’s house looking for answers.
I seriously cannot go a single day without seeing at least one person throwing up on TV. You may think that I only watch shows featuring Bret Michaels and the diseased whores who love him but honestly I never watch those shows. Television barfing is no longer relegated to the inky shadows of Bret Michaels’ tour bus, it’s everywhere!
A couple days ago, I saw no less than 4 people puking on 4 separate TV shows! I wish I could remember the shows because they weren’t all programs you would expect to see such a reversal of fortune. I will just make them up… Jeopardy, Meet the Press, The Weather Channel and let’s say Sesame Street.
When did it this trend become commonplace? Was I in a coma for 100 years?
Speaking of TV and how the universe is against me… How the fuck does Rubina Ali, child star of “Slumdog Millionaire,” have a better TV than I do when she lives in goddamn slum?!? No seriously, she lives in a real-life Indian slum. Do I do everything wrong?
I made the mistake of stopping on Mtv this afternoon while looking for something on TV to nap to. I love to nap to the vapid drone of the television. I just do. Did you know your brain is less active while watching TV than it is when you are sleeping? Well, my brain just about shut off to the point of forgetting to make my heart beat and my lungs breathe after I made the mistake of watching an hour of the new season of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge.
In college (and maybe a little out of college) I used to casually watch The Real World. I didn’t technically enjoy it, but I watched enough to be able to tell you that Jay on the London cast loved mac and cheese and that Colin from the Hawaii cast was totally NOT into Amaya but made the mistake of making out with her, probably because he wanted to fondle her huge boobs, and she totally fell in love with him and wanted to snuggle and baby talk and make him kiss stuffed animals every night in his bunk bed but Colin was like rolling his eyes and feeling totally trapped but didn’t know how to get out of it. However I had to stop watching the Real World when A) I realized I was an adult and B) Mtv starting exclusively casting idiots with explosive rage disorder.*
The only thing worse than the obnoxious alcoholics that kick, scream and casually fuck their way around the overly-colorful Ikea catalog that is the Real World house is the same people coming back even more obnoxious and alcoholic-y year after pathetic year to compete** in the Real World/Road Rules Challenge. These people really have got to be the biggest collection of douchebags mankind has ever known.
In the same way that you are a shitty parent if you let your kids watch Bratz, you are an equally bad parent if you let your kids watch ANYTHING on Mtv. Unless you want your child to grow up thinking life is simply a series of ever-growing drunken, semi-nude tantrums, I suggest you keep their tiny brains far away from Mtv.
*I just made that up but I’m sure it’s real.
**Compete = fighting and fucking each other
I’m not dumb, I understand WHY people were initially fascinated by the Octo-mom but can’t we move on to the next freak now?
Weeks ago I thought about writing something about this weirdo but it’s too obvious. How could I possibly add a fresh perspective to the subject? This human clown car* is obviously sick and any reasonable person should be able to acknowledge that and move on. So why the hell do I have to see her Angelina-Jolie-post -flaming-car-accident face every time I turn on the TV?
Don’t try to blame the media either. If they were not getting ratings from the subject they would drop the story faster than Octo-mom drops babies out of her skirt. ZING!
I know most people can’t look away from a car wreck like this but I really think they should. At best, give it a quick glance but then fight the urge to stare. I’m honestly not trying to be holier than thou but I have a real problem with people who are entertained by others’ misery (unless it’s someone getting hit in the nuts.) I feel like everyone’s fascination with this woman and her soon-to-be-fucked up kids is like watching a cock fight.
I’m pretty sure I will win some sort of major literary (I just misspelled literary) award for this post.
I want to hate Ryan Seacrest so bad! I want the sight of his face to make poop involuntarily explode from my ass. I’m not sure why I would want that to happen now that I think of it. Let’s just say every cell in my body tells me to hate this turd but I can’t do it. I LIKE RYAN SEACREST and I want the world to know it!
You know what, good for him for realizing his only talent is being a bland nice guy and making a career of it. If there was a computer programmed to create humans and you instructed it to create the absolute least offensive person possible it would shoot out Ryan Seacrest. On paper that sounds like reason enough to hate him but it’s not. There are plenty of bland celebrities worthy of your anger but they are offensively boring. Ryan is just lovably boring.
So who’s offensively bland? People like Pete Wentz, Jay Leno and Gwen Stefani are aggressively boring to me whereas Ryan is just lovably middle-of-the-road. He’s smart too. He stays out of trouble and works hard at being America’s nice guy. It’s making him rich and making me fall in love with him.
I’m not sure when the phrase “it is what it is” came on the scene but I feel like over the last year I hear it every day from someone. I can’t quite put my finger on why but it bugs me. It’s the equivalent of saying nothing.
I feel like I usually hear it coming from the puffy mouth of a bikini-clad slut right after she barfs in the refrigerator on “Rock of Love” or some other reality TV whore-fest.
I have a cold, I feel like shit and that’s all I feel like writing. I need a nap. Sorry, it is what it is.
I simply refuse to believe there are more than 14 people watching all of these “dancing with some asshole” shows. There are at least 5 dancing shows on TV right now, probably more but I REFUSE to research it. How is it possible a single person wants to watch dancing? HOW (followed by violent punching of my keyboard)?
I could understand dancing shows being popular in the mid seventies when all those awesomely shitty variety shows ruled the airwaves but in the year 2009? I just don’t get it. How is it possible, when all of society is walking around like they are straight out of Compton, a show about d-list celebrities flitting around in glittery jumpsuits is a #1 show?
Our country acts so fucking macho all the time but these shows have such high ratings that there has to be more than a handful of good old boys secretly watching with a beer in hand and a jar of nacho cheese resting on their fat bellies. Does this cheese fly across the trailer when they stand up in a rage because Rocco DiSpirito gets voted off when Susan Lucci clearly deserves to be sent packing? Does a single tear fall to his Dale Earnhardt sleeveless t-shirt when Ian Ziering nails a flawless Viennese Waltz?
