Skip to content

Yet another tv show I should be ashamed to watch…

August 5, 2011

I watch ridiculous television shows.

There.

It’s out in the open.

Last night as Mike and I settled down with our bottles of Stella and the tv remote, we stumbled upon the Style network. Do you all ever watch the Style network? It reminds me of the tv guide channel… but with little clips of “style tips.” I wouldn’t consider them tips because so far out of the three we saw, I wouldn’t be caught dead in anything they showed. But! Not my point.

THIS is my point:

What is that? A cow with golden horns? Yes. Yes it is. (Is anyone else reminded of Mooby the Golden Cow from the Jay and Silent Bob movie?)

This show is a bigger train wreck than any of the Real Housewives combined. I say that in all seriousness. You’re probably thinking, “Well, yeah, Whitney… It’s because it’s a rip off of the Real Housewives series.” And you would be correct! It is! Yet, I got so sucked in I watched three episodes straight through, only leaving to retrieve another Stella from the fridge…

First off this show is trying to pull off some weird dynamic where it’s all about the moms and daughters, but then this one lady, Leslie, apparently doesn’t have a daughter so she’s on there with her “god-daughter.” I say this skeptically because I feel like, if anything, this lady desperately wanted to be on the show and more than likely found some orphan and was all, “You! Girl! Come be on this show with me in Texas!” (Also, I feel like Leslie just moved to Texas to be on the show…)

The “god-daughter” refers to herself as a “pageant pro” throughout an entire episode which prompted Mike to get incredibly frustrated (probably stemming from the fact that I was making him watch this awful television show) and go, “What does she mean PRO?! Does she get paid to do pageants?! And if so, she should refund that money because I could win a pageant before she could!”

Then there’s Crazy Connie. I only call her crazy because, well, look at her:

That’s her daughter, Grace, beside her with the weird hair swoop going on. She’s a big ol’ brat but that’s not saying much because every kid on this show makes me want to pull their teeth out with pliers so that they’ll have a speech impediment and hopefully be too ashamed to talk anymore. But let’s be honest, their parents would have a brand new set of veneers in their mouth before we could blink.

My favorite train wreck to watch however is the lovely Bonnie and Whitney. (I know! Curse her for soiling my completely un-preppy and non-yuppy name!)

Is Bonnie a midget? I think she may be. Did she overdo it on the silicon injections in her lips? Sure did. And WHITNEY… I have so much to say! So little space on the internet to say it! Ok, so apparently Bonnie has a PhD and is a doctor? I’m still thoroughly confused. Also? Hopeful! If she can get a PhD, my hopes for my dog getting his are still totally doable! She bribes her kid with plastic surgery, which, stellar move, Bonnie. That’s not setting your daughter up for any sort of terrible goals in life or anything. Whitney, being the classy gal that she is has “C**T” tattooed on her foot.

ON HER FOOT.

LIKE IN PLAIN VIEW.

Did she fail anatomy? That’s not where that is.

But don’t worry, Bonnie told her if she had it removed, she’d buy her some new lips. *Sigh… I strive to be that good of a parent to Evie one day. Bonnie and Whitney bond over drinks a lot and it usually ends in Whitney trying to squeeze more plastic surgery out of her mother. The latest request was “p0rn star boobs.” I weep for our future.

The ladies fight and bicker and whine and oh my, if the stuff that they worry about was the only thing *I* had to worry about, I would consider myself to have it made in the shade. They don’t. They consider it a tragedy to not be able to get into the local country club that’s run by a lady who talks like a man.

They have it rough, indeed.

But the bonus to this entire hot mess of three-hour television watching? Mike and I got to see this commercial:

Hail to the V. Just know that it’s not located on your foot.

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: