For a few hours early last evening I gave up hope. I threw in the towel. I planted myself in my $20 recliner and did my damndest to quit breathing, which is not an easy feat.
Why, you may ask? The answer is quite simple. I unknowingly walked in on my wife watching one of the most insipid, grotesque, and down right hurtful reality shows ever to grace the air waves. I am of course talking about Tila Tequila's breakout television performance. Apparently the premise of the show is her search for love among a throng of meatheads entirely devoid of intelligence, along with a smattering of lesbians/bisexuals equally lacking in the self-esteem department.
Between the gauntlet of other such reality shows and an innumerable slew of game shows, it is a wonder the suicide rate in this country hasn't ballooned to Hindenburg proportions. Incidentally, whats the deal with washed up comedians getting gigs as gameshow hosts? Is there some sort of crazy drought in the fast-food department? (Sorry Drew Carey)
Anyway, luckily I recievecd my collection of Scrubs DVD's back from a family member. I was at least able to regain some vestige of normalcy. However, my wife will ultimately be punished. Maybe I will take away her America's Next Top Model priveleges. No....how about burning all of her precious TV gameshow turned board games.
gonna eat a lot of peaches
7 years ago
1 comment:
please for to be coming back with the blogification. and the scrabble on facebookizing.
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