A post of thanksgiving and goodbyes

I love me some reality TV like my son loves milk and throat clearing humor (next time you're around Cameron loudly clear your throat and you'll see what I'm talking about). Some people find reality TV silly or annoying. A stance like that makes me wonder if they have ever actually sat down and watched basketball wives? If they have, it baffles me how they can hold such an opinion. No my friends, reality TV is beauty. In the words of a reality judge / modern poet "it is like a purple wind coming through, it is a summer breeze, it is everything." I couldn't have said it better myself Mia. And it never ends. You can find genius in reality TV when you least expect it. For instance, I never thought I would be interested in watching My Antonio. Then I turn on the TV one night to find Antonio Sabato Jr. forcing a group of middle aged women (one of which is his ex wife) to read cheesy love poems to him while he flexes and tearfully worships himself... and I am hooked. Tool academy, survivor, the real world empire, all those dancing shows, flavor of love, i love new york, rock of love, blind date, fifth wheel, studs, cops, real housewives of America, America's next top model, project run way, bromance, temptation island, the two Cory's and on and on and on... they have brought me so much joy. I must pay tribute to them. Thank you reality TV. Thank you.

So it is with a heavy heart that I continue this blog. There is one show that has gone too far. This show continually lies to me, and does so in the name of love. I'm not going to take it any more. That's right, I'm talking to you Bachlorette. You will play me for a fool no longer Chris Harrison. First of all, I can count to one so I don't need captain obvious always stepping in to tell me that we're down to the last rose. Second of all, your condescending interviews and contrived sympathy is transparent and pathetic. Thirdly, I'm pretty sure you are the spawn of Satan. But aside from the pure evil that is Chris Harrison, the show itself has become totally absurd. Why must everyone on the show always try to convince us that they are actually, and usually unexpectedly, falling in love? If somebody would just once claim their true attention-whoring motives I would jump up and down with joy. Next, why is it that every place the lovebirds go need to be totally uninhabited by other human beings? This week the couples went on helicopters and boats that were magically void of any pilot or captain. Why? Why can't you show me somebody operating these transportation devices? Why do you cut away and make the helicopter pilot clear out of the picture before you let the couple deboard? Am I supposed to believe that Roberto piloted the helicopter from the back seat? This week we were supposed to believe that the island of Tahiti was totally uninhabited (except for Chris Harrison lurking around and pretending to have a soul). Would the existence of a pilot, captain, waiter, towns person, etc just totally ruin the ambiance? And I haven't even mentioned the hypocrisy. The writers made this poor guy with beady eyes come on the show and then wait till he's in the top three to tell the Bachlorette that he has a girl at home he still has feelings for. The American people are supposed to be outraged by the gall of this man and watch him get lectured and admonished for 30 minutes, all the while conveniently forgetting that we all just watched the lecturer sleep with two other guys earlier on the same episode. But that's okay because this is her "journey" and she "gave up everything" to be in the national spotlight advancing her Q rating. Again, you have cuckolded me for the last time Chris Harrison. If anybody ever hands me one of your creepy letters inviting me to come to a suite - the answer is NO. I am done with you. At least after the reunion special I am. How could I resist watching Craig M and the Weatherman reunited. The forecast calls for stormy skies.