Monday, August 16, 2010


Sometimes I disgust myself.

"Reality" shows are the worst thing to happen to TV, and possibly society, in the past 20 years. Then why.....can't ......I stop......watching them??? The Real World was my gateway drug. Who didn't love to hate Puck?!? And then Survivor was cool for about five minutes. Now I watch shows like Top Shot, Last Comic Standing, Tool Academy, and (shudder) Hell's Kitchen. It doesn't really have anything to do with cooking, but I like Chef Ramsey's fake little rants, and in each of the past two seasons there has been a chef from Boston that I've met.

But these shows are not the reason I've called you here today.

I've hit rock bottom. I'm addicted to....(am I really about to admit this publicly?)…..The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Ugh, it's so embarrassing, but it feels good to just get it out there. TRHONJ stands for everything I despise. Shallow materialism, catty backstabbing, narcissistic self-centeredness, redundant repetitiveness, and achieving celebrity for all the wrong reasons. But I can't look away. It's like a wonderful car wreck between two Land Rovers, with Gucci knock offs, hair extensions, and fake body parts flying everywhere.

It takes a lot to embarrass New Jersey. I'm not a Jersist either. Heck, some of my best friends are from Jersey. I was born in Jersey for Christ's sake, but even the most diehard turnpike resident must be cringing at the Garden State's PR lately. First, Jersey Shore broke on the scene. Save your letters- I know only a couple of the cast members are from Jersey, but it takes place in Jersey, celebrates the Jersey attitude, and, well, it's called JERSEY Shore, so you're stuck with it. The nutbags on that show are more disgusting than the froth floating in their STDcuzzi hot tub. You've heard of "speedballs." Well, I suspect that the guys are all shooting "Gorilla-balls" (half steroids, half coke) and the chicks are shooting "Anna Nicole-balls" (half silicone, half roofies). Maybe that's why there are so many hypodermic needles washing up on Jersey beaches. Now TRHONJ is here to take the crown for cringe inducing bad behavior. The Jersey anti-defamation league must be looking back at the Sopranos with a wistful longing. At least that show portrayed people from Jersey as hard working families who whacked people in their spare time, but minded their own business for the most part. They may have been gangsters, but at least it's an ethos.

Now, with TRHONJ, all bets are off. The more you act like a spoiled douchebag, the more popular you are. The more horribly you act towards others, the more screen time you get. Unfair, foul-mouthed beratings equals better ratings.

And I love to hate every minute of it.

Have you seen the show? It revolves around a gossipy little clique of middle-aged, suburban housewives with nothing better to do than shop, bitch, moan, and crank out horrid little children. They all live in these ridiculously tacky McMansions, drive Land Rovers, and have a minimum of three little brats orbiting them at any time. How the fuck can they afford this lifestyle? Not a one of them works, and their husbands can't all be making enough money to pay for this decadent bullshit, especially in the current economy.

Let's look at the cast of characters. There is Carolyn, who seemed like a nosy, domineering, bully at first, but she is clearly the most level headed person on the show. Her grown children are polite and hard working. Nothing to really hate there. Carolyn's sister Dina is really into new age, positivity, whatever Oprah told her to be into, psychic, go to the light, Chopra-babble, and it is quite amusing. She also has one fluffy, sour faced cat, and one hairless cat. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, there is nothing funnier than a hairless cat. Dina also dropped out of the show this season when it got too ridiculous even for her. That seems like a normal human response to the insanity of the show. Not a lot to hate there. There's Jacqueline, who seems like a sweet, naïve mother, but she raised an 18 year old waste of oxygen for a daughter. Ashley seems to think airing dirty laundry on facebook, pulling out a forty-something woman's hair extensions, and being an ingrate leech is cool. Good luck with that. Maybe that's why Jacqueline popped out another couple diaper fillers. Do over. Try again.

Then there is the supposed villain of the show. Danielle looks like an anorexic Cruella DeVille, with worse hair and no cigarette holder. She is the poster child for what can go wrong with plastic surgery: caved in sideways nose, collagen infused lips that look like Stonehenge, and a perpetually startled look on her Botox riddled, stretched-eyebrow face. She was a whore (both recreationally and professionally) and was arrested in her 20's for some kidnapping scheme her drug dealer boyfriend at the time was mixed up in. Danielle has two teenage daughters, and Christine, the older daughter, is a model. She is gorgeous. She looks exactly like Muriel Hemmingway, only, you know.....good looking. Jillian is the younger daughter and she is absolutely my favorite character on the show. She seems to realize that the whole three ring circus is bullshit, and her snide remarks are hilarious. Danielle consorts with two guys who are the Laurel and Hardy of Jersey ex-cons. She supposedly needs them for protection and advice, but all they provide is great comic relief. I don't think too many genuine wiseguys go on a Bravo TV show and brag about it.

But I've saved the true villain for last. The one who put me over the edge. The one who drives me so crazy that I couldn't take it anymore and had to vent here. I'm talking about Teresa. She is so fucking dumb, she doesn't even know how to spell Theresa. She is the most vapid, greedy, ignorant, self centered, cartoon of a negative stereotype to come down the pike. She reeks of fake. Fake hair, fake tits, fake soul. She talks on national TV about how much she likes sex while she is eight months pregnant. She refers to her husband as an entrepreneur, but she can't pronounce it and doesn't really know what it means ("Is that the one when you own a business? Then yeah, that's what he is then"). She instigates a slap fight at a country club, and then in the same breath talks about what "a lady" she is. Oh yeah, you're a class act all the way honey. All the while, her hen-pecked husband sits there sullenly agreeing with everything she says. He's one of those guys who thinks he's tough, but he's just a wet noodle wrapped in steroids with a Jersey accent. You can't help but feel a little sorry for him though. They've cranked out four atrocious little girls who will undoubtedly carry on their mother's proud tradition of ignorance, entitlement, and rampant breeding. Teresa is always an hour late to everything because she is applying a trowel of make-up to her face, or putting glitter fingernail polish on her three year old, or picking out which Luis Vuitton bag matches her eight year old's outfit, the whole time bragging about what "little divas" they are becoming. Bravo indeed, you pathetic guttersnipe. That is exactly what you should be proud of. Creating a small army of useless, spoiled, high maintenance, trophies to nag their future general contractor husbands that they don't go on vacation enough. The little hellions even have weird light colored eyes that glow with unearned self-love when they aren't throwing one of their seemingly never ending tantrums. But they're just innocent children you say? That's why I hate their mother even more for turning them into contemptible clones of herself. Her name is Teresa, and she is a mother, but she's no Mother Theresa. (Too corny? Yeah- I couldn't come up with a really clever joke, besides, I really don't think Mother Theresa was all that great. She was vehemently against birth control in a region that was devastated by overpopulation. That's not cool, but it's like people make her out to be a saint or something. I'm just saying......)

The straw that broke the camel's back for me was the crazy, over the top christening party that Teresa had for her latest infant spawn. She had a professional photographer and videographer, Gucci booties that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe (and that the baby had probably outgrown by the end of the ceremony), top shelf open bar, two huge ice sculptures, champagne, full sit down dinner, a string quartet and a DJ. Prince Charles and Lady Di's wedding looked like a wake at a VFW post compared to this thing.

Just when I had reached my boiling point, I saw some amusing news the other day. Teresa and her husband have filed for bankruptcy. (In my best Nelson voice) Haw-hah. They are having an auction at their crappy McMansion to pay off creditors. Bye-bye Sub Zero fridge. Bye-bye antique pool table. Bye-bye professional (but untouched) gym. Bye-bye fully stocked wine cellar you pretentious, glorified trailer trash, high society poseurs. Maybe they shouldn't have had the most expensive christening party of all time if they were having money problems? I hope they all end up in designer burlap sacks. They represent everything that is wrong with America's consumer feedbag, debt riddled, me me me me attitude. I guess sometimes bad things do happen to bad people. I wish them nothing but the worst.

Maybe I'm being too harsh. In the opening credits of TRHONJ, Teresa says "Everybody makes fun of Jersey girls, but I think they're just jealous." Yeah, that's probably it. I'm just jealous. I'm jealous of your air-headed, grating, nasal voiced, consumer driven, keeping up with the Jones, dumber than a box of rocks, money grubbing, pathetic, self-centered, lazy-ass, financially and morally bankrupt existence you cum belching excuse for a human.

Then again, what does that make me for watching it?

Sometimes I disgust myself.

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