I DO NOT DO REALITY SHOWS. Period. End of Story.
That’s what I told myself when the first batch arrived. And everything since. Good God –
Celebrity Bullriding
Bridezillas
Boy Meets Boy
Celebrity Paranormal
Duck Dynasty
Extreme Fakeovers
He’s A Lady
Pimp My Ride
The Rebel Billionaire
Who Wants to Date A Hooter’s Girl
Almost 574 of these awful things air weekly, if you count the ones on internet channels. Watch your peers lose weight, eat bugs, sing, dance, get hit in the balls with just about everything, and make a general fool of themselves.
I broke my resolution with “American Idol.” No bugs, no silly teen-age dating scenarios, no baseball bats in the balls. Just watching every day boys and girls attempting to make it in the big time. Well, and the silliness of the auditions of course. I admit to having been hooked on Idol for years, and still watch the top ten episodes.
And once broken – it only made sense I could peek in on one or two more. I’m a dancer, “So You Think You Can Dance” was logical. I’d know what the judges were looking for and maybe learn a few new moves. “Top Chef” and “Master Chef” assured new recipes to try out on unsuspecting guests. “Project Runway” gave me great ideas for using recyclables and that leftover Halloween candy. “Hell’s Kitchen” – well who doesn’t enjoy watching a grown man scream about the incompetence of other grown men and women.
I still don’t “Survive”, “Race”, “Date”, or “Makeover”. I don’t “Housewives” or “Celebrity” anything. (ok, a few years ago it was fun watching Omarosa on Trump’s shindig, and I’ll admit to wondering how Gene Simmons would make out.)