Monday, January 5, 2009

A confession and an intervention.

I typically shy away from reality TV. Survivor? Nope. The Bachelor? Eh. I'm just not interested.


I have a strange fascination with Rock of Love With Bret Michaels and Rock of Love: Charm School, where none other than Sharon Osborne tries to teach the Rock of Love rejects some manners.

Charm School just finished up, and last night was the first episode of the next season of Rock of Love. After careful consideration, I have come to an important conclusion.

Bret Michaels better be in on the joke. If not? Boy needs an intervention.
But Cha Cha, why?

Lemme tell you. No man in his right mind would really, truly think that he's going to find love on a reality show, much less a reality show where - I'm sorry, but it's true - women of questionable character try to outwhore themselves to win his affections.

The catfights are entertaining. But the contestants?
Bret recognized this contestant from her, uh, film career.

I really wonder what this show would be like if they threw in some normal women. Make it half crazy, dirty girls, and half normal, clean girls. The strippers versus the librarians. What would happen? Would the dirty girls play the nice girls and trick Bret into eliminating them? Or would the nice girls use their collective brain power to show that smart is sexy?

The world will never know.

And the winner of Rock of Love Charm School, the winner of $100,000 and the praises of Sharon Osborne? She's lovely, and got rid of her bad blond dye job. And she earned Sharon's praises for saying she was going to use her prize money for ... a boob job. She has no big plans, no dreams, no crazy ideas about using the money for tuition or starting a business. She's getting boobs.

I think part of why this show makes me crazy is that I fear that somehow, some way, the dating scene will end up like this when I eventually make my way back into the fray. What about normal girls like me? I was a fucking Mathlete and I know the Dewey Decimal System. If that's not sexy ... well, then, I'm screwed. But not in the way you want to get screwed. You know.

So, uh, Bret? I hope this show is really reviving your music career. Because every time you tell some drunken "model / actress" that you're sure you're going to find true love among these ruins of womanhood? I die a little. Just like your street cred.


Rebecca said...

Cha Cha - I know you probably already know this but there are great men out there that find the women you mention as absurd as you do and find your qualities as beautiful and valuable as they truly are.

These reality shows try to out-absurd each other. I get sucked into some of them and laugh like the rest of the audience but part of me feels so sad and, to be honest, disappointed by how far down we've gone to create entertainment.

LaDue & Crew said...

I guess that's why I don't watch these shows anymore- this one takes the prize- ugh! I always laugh when I see girls like that with boobs down to their waist- So not attractive... that's partly why little 'ol me had a reduction and now they are smiling at the sky! My poor hubby, his buddies actually sent him a condolence card...

you gotta wonder said...

Cha Cha, Don't ever doubt yourself. Need I remind you?

jean said...

Put down the remote and step away from the TV.

Ok, now take a deep breath and repeat after me, I will not watch that crap again.

I feel much better and I'm sure you do too. Those girls are a dime a dozen while you are one in a million. So there. (great, that sounded like something my mother would say. I'm getting too old.)

Tumble Fish Studio said...

Oh, Cha Cha. I love Bret Michaels. That is why I love you. We could have been sitting together in our sweats knitting to that show. I am the fortyish soccer-mom looking short haired small boobied fat assed woman that could rock his world, given the chance. I have one big problem - I am married and love my husband very much. In my fantasy world I have figured out that I could borrow just one weekend, which I would certainly try hard to make up for with hubby later, to just show him how its done, ruining him forever on bimbos. I would seduce him with intelligent conversation (putting two sentences together), class (only one recent tattoo of Lady Fish from Mr. Limpid in a place no one could ever see unless I showed you myself - a "mamafish" tribute when I moved and all of my friends got a fish tattoo in honor of me, even the guys!), and all real body parts as limp and sagging and cellulitey as they are. I have to admit, I would really still like toe replacement surgery but other than that . . . I'm ready!

Anonymous said...

I cannot even watch any reality TV--so obviously these shows would send me over the edge--please tell me the real world isn't REALLY like these isn't. It isn't. It can't be.

itsjustme said...

You crack me up. I love that stupid Rock of Love. It makes me hoot and howl. They are all idiots, and yet, so strangely serious about it all.