Bottom Rung Broadcasting

Behold. Tonight, I have reached the bottom rung of reality TV viewing. I would have to bestow this dubious honor to that Jo & Slade dating crap but since I only watched the finale episode, I’ll pass.

I COULD quite easily could hand off the honor to Bret Michaels and his Bus of F*** tour, but I will resist. It’s hard, but I can do one better.

Yes, friends, I’m going to have to hand off the award to True Beauty.

Why does it edge out Bret and the Hos, you ask? True Beauty takes itself a tad too seriously. True Beauty acts like they’re really DOING something here. And there’s nothing I hate more than a reality show that takes itself too seriously.

Bret and hos? Other than craz-ay Brittaney? I think, I could be wrong, I THINK they’re laughing with us. Maybe.

Basically the premise of True Beauty is… ten beautiful contestants, male and female, are put in a house and are operating under the impression they are being judged on outward looks alone.

But oh, ho, ho! They are also under surveillance and set up in different unknown (to them) challenges to see if they’ll step up to the plate and demonstrate their INNER beauty. Oh, for the love of plot twists! This takes me back to Evan Marriott and that whole Joe Millionaire 10-car pileup! Man, I loved that show.

You know Tyra is behind this, executive producer and shit. As is Ashton Kutcher. It’s like Punk’d meets America’s Next Top Model, literally.

What I really need to know, why is Vanessa Minnillo the host of this train wreck? I’m not exactly a fan of hers but I thought she was a teensy bit classier than to do a show such as this. She must be leaving Nick soon and wants some money in the bank.

And Cheryl. Sigh. Cheryl, Cheryl, Cheryl… I’m sad to report, Cheryl has fallen victim to the trout mouth. See:

This makes me sad. The woman is over 60 years of age, she was looking great there for a while and now, this. If you don’t think it looks bad there, watch her talk. When are we women ever going to learn growing old gracefully is ALWAYS best? And on a show about INNER beauty, no less? Cheryl?

That’s not to say I’m against plastic surgery. You get older and you can see where you could have a nip there, a tuck there, a lift over there… I’m not saying I’ll NEVER do anything…

Sidenote: Recently, I purchased the Oil of Olay Microdermabrasion Kit - and I love it. But strike me down if I ever think it’s a good idea to go to a doctor and PAY to have them make me look like a damn fish! Stop it!

Tonight’s episode was the 2nd that has aired. Among so many other cringe worthy moments, we were treated to one of the contestants, Monique, wearing a wig and alluding to her alter-ego. Sorry, I didn’t make note of the alter ego’s name… Sasha?

There is one way to lose me forever and that is to refer to an alter ego. Reality TV is RIFE with alter egos, as if the people that claim to have them aren’t obnoxious enough as it is. All a supposed alter ego tells me is this person need meds. Strong ones.

Since I never like to miss anything once I get into a show, I watched the premiere episode FREE online and I hope you do, too, so I have someone to dish with. That is, if you’re as bored as me. If you want to feel better about yourself by watching these fools, like me.

The main purpose of reality TV, Bryan (the new hair guy) and I decided: there is at least one reality show out there to make you feel better about pretty much anything.

Biggest Loser: I’M their target weight! I could totally have that 2nd serving of pizza!
Intervention: I don’t even drink HALF that much!
Rock of Love: I would NEVER stick my tongue in Bret’s mouth! I’m SO much classier than that!

I will leave you with my favorite line from the premiere episode of True Beauty (which I hope to use on some unsuspecting asshole in the not-so-distant future): From here on out, where I am, don’t be there.

Oh but I WILL be there, every damn week.

Much ado about hair

I have become preoccupied recently with the notion of going back to my natural hair color. Actually, that’s a lie. I want to go dark and have some fun, kicky, caramel-y high (or is it low?) lights and attempt to avoid my natural hair color altogether… which would be a very boring brown.

I kept tossing around the idea, my roots kept getting longer, I kept trying to get into see my regular hair guy, to no avail. I was thrown into this downward spiral of depression that my hair looks like shit so therefore, I look like shit…

Isn’t that funny how much women tie up into those things? Pedicures, hair getting done, buying a great new outfit (on sale!) that you can’t wait to wear and feel cute in.

That’s one thing I love about the boyfriend: R gets that about women. I think it’s because he has sisters. I don’t think a man can have sisters and escape this all-important life lesson of female behavior.

There would be plenty of times when I’d be running mentally low, working a lot, stressed about the kid, thinking I’m taking care of myself but not REALLY doing so, and R would say, “Go get a pedicure.”

And I’d look at him sideways and get all huffy, “What the hell is a pedicure going to do? And besides that, I don’t want to spend the money.”

R would hand me the money while gently shooing (shoving) me towards the door and say, “Go get a pedicure, NOW.”

I know part of it is he wanted to get me the hell out of the house, gain some peace and quiet away from my crazy ass, but mostly he KNEW it would make me feel better.

I would come home and show him my freshly painted toes, stare at my freshly painted toes, take pictures of my freshly painted toes and post them on Flickr so I could show all my contacts my lovely freshly painted toes. And I’d feel better.

That’s a (as in singular, as in there’s more) hard part with R gone. You get used to being taken care of. You get used to someone making you slow down a little and realize how long it’s been since you did something for you.

When I told R that I was ready to go dark, ready to get a completely new hairstyle and generally shake things up a bit he replied that he knew it was coming.

While I like to laugh it off and say - he doesn’t know jack! I have to admit maybe he doesn’t know a Jack but he sure knows a Me! That was completely cheesy, blame it on the ah-ah-ah-alcohol.

~~~

Does anyone watch Split Ends? I’m addicted to this show like I get addicted to all of the reality shows I watch. It’s a sickness. I get all wrapped up in other people’s lives and start talking about them like I know them personally… (Oooooh, Tamra! YOU BITCH!) See? Sad.

Anyway, I fell in love with this guy from one of the most recent episodes of Split Ends. Like, LOVE. I became his fan on Facebook, requested his “friendship” on myspace and if the man ever discovers Twitter? I’M SO THERE. Follow THIS.

Throw together that he’s a) hot b) has a British accent and c) did hair like I want MY hair done and this was my most favorite episode yet. I did grow more and more irritated during that episode when he tried to teach the stylists in the Texas salon he was tossed in a thing or two… and they didn’t want to hear it!

I was waiting for Tabatha to show up and be like, “Listen up, you f**king b*tches!” Which would be totally freaky considering they’re on competing networks…

But really, how dumb of these broads to not want to improve their skills and learn from someone willing to teach them a thing or two. And he’s hot? Stop it.

Oooh that sounds like a New Year’s Resolution right there: Learn shit from people willing to teach me. Especially if they’re hot. Note to self…

All that to say, be ready for a new ‘do tomorrow. Because I sure am. Bryan! Here I come!