Dear Real Housewives of New Jersey:
Look, last year was great. It really was. But things are different this year, and there are some things I want to talk to you about that are bothering me that I think you can work on.
1. If I have to hear Teresa brag one more time about all the sex she's having with her greasy goombah bankrupt husband, I'm going to throw some ham at the TV. And we all know how Caroline feels about people throwing ham.
2. And while we're on the topic of Teresa, if there's any way to get her hairline a little further away from her eyebrows, I would really appreciate it.
3. And in a similar but opposite note, why don't you take the space needed for Teresa's forehead from Danielle's, because she has some stretched-taut room to spare.
4. Danielle: you are crazy. Not only for the obvious reasons, but also because when you threaten to take your business away from a local boutique, you say "they'll miss my money." Um. I thought you couldn't afford to fix up your house to sell it? How much money are you spending on clothes? Could it perhaps be better spent on, you know, your crumbling ceilings? I feel like Danielle's beyond professional psychological help here, but there's nothing here that a good financial planner couldn't fix.
5. Caroline. You do not have an empty nest. Because ALL THREE of your ADULT CHILDREN live at home. Stop crying about it. Maybe use that time instead to think about where you might have led them astray since, you know, they're over 18 and LIVING AT HOME.
6. And while we're on the topic of adult children on this show, why are they all useless? And why are their parents surprised that they're so useless? I mean, someone had to raise them, right?
7. Jacqueline needs to find something to do. Besides complain about Danielle.
8. Actually, that goes for everyone.
9. In conclusion, I miss Grandma Wrinkles.
New Jersey, you're no NYC, but I want to love you. I hope we can make it work.
xoxo
Josie
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
I finally get it!
(Okay, first, I apologize for my absence. Summer in Minnesota is interfering with my reality TV viewing. It'll get better in the fall.)
I just finished hour three of Real Housewives of New York City reunion special insanity, and I had a brainwave.
You know why I like these crappy TV shows so much? Because they make me feel so wonderful and normal by comparison.
Three hours of watching grown women yell at each other like they're on the 5th grade playground has done it. I can count on one hand (without using many fingers!) the number of screaming, yelling fights I've had with a friend after the age of 18. I really can. Friendships aren't about fighting and cattiness and bitterness; they're about finding like-minded people or people whose viewpoints you had never even considered and loving it and (I hate to use a phrase Kelly Bensimon uses) celebrating the people who land in your life.
And these Housewives claim they're all such good friends, but, man, if I found out that my friends were talking about me or found myself talking about them the way those women talk about each other, I would just have to give up and sequester myself in my house with my cat and never go outside again.
It's all about the lowest common denominator. I've believed this since my first casting gig in reality TV and I believe it to this day: the kind of people who would reveal their lives to that degree in such a public forum have something wrong in their heads. I would die if I was on national TV looking the way I look first thing in the morning, or the way I am when I'm crying and snotty and irrational, or the way I act when I've had a few too many. But these people put it all out there, and whether it's brave or foolhardy, it really puts things into perspective.
I mean, okay, sometimes I have disagreements with people. But at least my disagreements aren't replayed on Saturday marathons on national TV. And sometimes you say and do things you only mean in one instant that you regret the next, but at least it's not captured on film for all time. My moments of anger and unkindness and sadness are private, and only I have to relive the discomfort of that time where I really wasn't the best person I could be.
So when I'm feeling particularly low, all I have to do is click on my TV and watch someone who signed a release form they probably didn't really read do something they regret and I can think, "Hey! It's not so bad! At least my life isn't a TV show and I don't have to watch this for the rest of my life anywhere but inside of my head!"
In a weird way, thanks, Housewives, for letting yourselves be exploited. It reminds me that even though my clothes may not be as fabulous and my hair might not be as shiny, at least I'm emotionally stable, which is better then any piece of incredible footwear.
(Even though I'd sign on for one day of complete and total reality TV humiliation to get my hands on Jill Zarin's amazing teal shoes from the reunion show. Did you see those? Hello.)
I just finished hour three of Real Housewives of New York City reunion special insanity, and I had a brainwave.
You know why I like these crappy TV shows so much? Because they make me feel so wonderful and normal by comparison.
Three hours of watching grown women yell at each other like they're on the 5th grade playground has done it. I can count on one hand (without using many fingers!) the number of screaming, yelling fights I've had with a friend after the age of 18. I really can. Friendships aren't about fighting and cattiness and bitterness; they're about finding like-minded people or people whose viewpoints you had never even considered and loving it and (I hate to use a phrase Kelly Bensimon uses) celebrating the people who land in your life.
And these Housewives claim they're all such good friends, but, man, if I found out that my friends were talking about me or found myself talking about them the way those women talk about each other, I would just have to give up and sequester myself in my house with my cat and never go outside again.
It's all about the lowest common denominator. I've believed this since my first casting gig in reality TV and I believe it to this day: the kind of people who would reveal their lives to that degree in such a public forum have something wrong in their heads. I would die if I was on national TV looking the way I look first thing in the morning, or the way I am when I'm crying and snotty and irrational, or the way I act when I've had a few too many. But these people put it all out there, and whether it's brave or foolhardy, it really puts things into perspective.
I mean, okay, sometimes I have disagreements with people. But at least my disagreements aren't replayed on Saturday marathons on national TV. And sometimes you say and do things you only mean in one instant that you regret the next, but at least it's not captured on film for all time. My moments of anger and unkindness and sadness are private, and only I have to relive the discomfort of that time where I really wasn't the best person I could be.
So when I'm feeling particularly low, all I have to do is click on my TV and watch someone who signed a release form they probably didn't really read do something they regret and I can think, "Hey! It's not so bad! At least my life isn't a TV show and I don't have to watch this for the rest of my life anywhere but inside of my head!"
In a weird way, thanks, Housewives, for letting yourselves be exploited. It reminds me that even though my clothes may not be as fabulous and my hair might not be as shiny, at least I'm emotionally stable, which is better then any piece of incredible footwear.
(Even though I'd sign on for one day of complete and total reality TV humiliation to get my hands on Jill Zarin's amazing teal shoes from the reunion show. Did you see those? Hello.)
Friday, May 21, 2010
Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs
Um, what the hell happened on Real Housewives of New York last night? I thought last week's episode was bananapants, but Kelly Bensimon has clearly and totally lost her mind.
It was funny for a while, but then it got really, really disturbing. And this is where, for me, the reality TV line of "so bad it's good" and "wait...this is not okay" got crossed. Kelly, from what was presented on last night's episode, is obviously having some kind of mental break. Whether it's drugs or brain chemistry or what, something really messed up is going on in her head, and this is a woman with two small children to raise. According to Bethenny's blog, what we saw on-air was "tame" compared to what really happened, and all the women were scared for Kelly's safety. Clearly exposing her life on TV is not a healthy thing for Kelly to do. There's nothing Bravo can do about it now - this season is shot and edited, and she signed the releases and the episodes are going to air. But I'm curious to see if Kelly will be returning to the franchise if there's a season 4. She's kind of unhinged, in a way that's not super fun to watch anymore. I'm sure Andy Cohen has a huge reality TV boner thinking about the ratings and the buzz the last two episodes have generated right about now.
On a lighter note, there was a moment in last night's episode where Ramona was handed another glass of wine and took it without even looking at it, which made me die laughing. Jezebel has a clip of it here. You know things are getting rough in RHONYC land when crazy-eyed Ramona is the sane one.
To recap: Ramona is renewing her wedding vows (because 17 years is a milestone, and it's not a season of Real Housewives without some big ridiculous event at the end of the season), and to celebrate, she is re-living her bachelorette weekend in St. John's with Alex, Bethenny, Kelly, and new girl Sonja. Last week the ladies were on a yacht, where Kelly oddly blew up at Bethenny about being a cook instead of a chef, then called her a ho-bag, the ladies found a Hooters yacht to hang out on, and everything seemed to be okay.
Until this week. The ladies departed the yacht and moved the crazy action to a villa. Bethenny brings a gift bag for each of the women (sure, it's SkinnyGirl branded, but who doesn't love a gift bag?) which brings Kelly to tears of rage. Kelly also brought down a pad of paper to breakfast and announced everyone should write down their complaints on it. And then after a weird photo shoot session on the beach, Bethenny makes dinner for all the women and...whoa.
Whoa.
Whoa.
Slow your roll, Kelly. Whether she was tweaking out from too much coke/not enough coke/having an actual mental breakdown/whatever...what was this nonsense? She called Alex a vampire, said Bethenny was trying to kill her, started randomly yelling "Al Sharpton! Al Sharpton!", was shoveling Gummi Bears into her mouth at an alarmingly rapid pace (for someone who claims to not eat high fructose corn syrup), among other things.
It was funny for a while, but then it got really, really disturbing. And this is where, for me, the reality TV line of "so bad it's good" and "wait...this is not okay" got crossed. Kelly, from what was presented on last night's episode, is obviously having some kind of mental break. Whether it's drugs or brain chemistry or what, something really messed up is going on in her head, and this is a woman with two small children to raise. According to Bethenny's blog, what we saw on-air was "tame" compared to what really happened, and all the women were scared for Kelly's safety. Clearly exposing her life on TV is not a healthy thing for Kelly to do. There's nothing Bravo can do about it now - this season is shot and edited, and she signed the releases and the episodes are going to air. But I'm curious to see if Kelly will be returning to the franchise if there's a season 4. She's kind of unhinged, in a way that's not super fun to watch anymore. I'm sure Andy Cohen has a huge reality TV boner thinking about the ratings and the buzz the last two episodes have generated right about now.
On a lighter note, there was a moment in last night's episode where Ramona was handed another glass of wine and took it without even looking at it, which made me die laughing. Jezebel has a clip of it here. You know things are getting rough in RHONYC land when crazy-eyed Ramona is the sane one.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
the people behind the reality
Meet Doron Ofir, the Man Behind 'Jersey Shore'
In case you ever wondered what it takes to find the people whose exploits disgust and entertain me/you/reality TV viewers, here's a sample. Doron Ofir is a casting producer who's been around since 2000, bringing you the Situation, Snooki, the millionaires of Millionaire Matchmaker, the skanks of A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, among others. And what Shelly Tatro, VH1's VP of creative programming, says about him sums up reality TV casting: "He puts desperate people together and gets inside their heads. He's very gifted."
And the man himself doesn't have a lofty point of view about what he does: "We are pioneers of an ugly age. Our business is like a short bus."
As a former casting producer, I can tell you HE. IS. SO. RIGHT. I worked for a period of time on a show about extramarital affairs and spent my days finding people who had not only had extramarital affairs, but would talk to a stranger about it on the phone in detail, would sign a 7 page release form saying they would talk about that extramarital affair on camera, would get the other participants in that extramarital affair to agree to either talk about it on camera or sign off on it being talked about on camera, and who were all, in the end, pretty damn excited about talking about that extramarital affair on camera. They were the lowest common denominator, people who had done something terrible and wanted nothing more then to talk about it.
Whether reality TV is the symptom or the disease isn't something I can figure out. But the fact of the matter is, we live in a fame obsessed society, and there are some people in this fame obsessed society who want nothing more then to be famous for something, anything. And the feeling I always got about the people who would actually call me, someone they would never meet, and tell me all about that time they did the worst thing you could do to your significant other, was that this was the most interesting thing that had ever happened to them. And if it could make them "famous" for a minute, an half-hour, a day, they were all for it.
And it was kind of sad, and I felt a little dirty and weird asking people "tell me all about the first time you and so-and-so hooked up" when I don't even ask my friends that, but at the same time, it paid my bills, and I found it fascinating. Not just for the stories they'd tell me, but for their willingness to share them with me. In a way, it's an anthropological experiment, which is how Ofir looks at it: "I know for a fact that any place where there is a culture, there's a show. We obsess over every subculture or interesting, existing world. Everything and everyone can be turned into reality television."
Obviously there's a good way to hold a mirror up to subcultures (True Life is a great example) and a bad way (sorry, Jersey Shore), but the guy has a point. Have you ever known so much about drag queens or fashion designers or huge families or kids who live in Jersey? And of course no representation is accurate, and editing is editing, and writing happens on these shows, and we're fools to think that there isn't, but at the same time - I've never met anyone like Snooki my entire life. But on TV, in a way, I get to meet her.
In case you ever wondered what it takes to find the people whose exploits disgust and entertain me/you/reality TV viewers, here's a sample. Doron Ofir is a casting producer who's been around since 2000, bringing you the Situation, Snooki, the millionaires of Millionaire Matchmaker, the skanks of A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, among others. And what Shelly Tatro, VH1's VP of creative programming, says about him sums up reality TV casting: "He puts desperate people together and gets inside their heads. He's very gifted."
And the man himself doesn't have a lofty point of view about what he does: "We are pioneers of an ugly age. Our business is like a short bus."
As a former casting producer, I can tell you HE. IS. SO. RIGHT. I worked for a period of time on a show about extramarital affairs and spent my days finding people who had not only had extramarital affairs, but would talk to a stranger about it on the phone in detail, would sign a 7 page release form saying they would talk about that extramarital affair on camera, would get the other participants in that extramarital affair to agree to either talk about it on camera or sign off on it being talked about on camera, and who were all, in the end, pretty damn excited about talking about that extramarital affair on camera. They were the lowest common denominator, people who had done something terrible and wanted nothing more then to talk about it.
Whether reality TV is the symptom or the disease isn't something I can figure out. But the fact of the matter is, we live in a fame obsessed society, and there are some people in this fame obsessed society who want nothing more then to be famous for something, anything. And the feeling I always got about the people who would actually call me, someone they would never meet, and tell me all about that time they did the worst thing you could do to your significant other, was that this was the most interesting thing that had ever happened to them. And if it could make them "famous" for a minute, an half-hour, a day, they were all for it.
And it was kind of sad, and I felt a little dirty and weird asking people "tell me all about the first time you and so-and-so hooked up" when I don't even ask my friends that, but at the same time, it paid my bills, and I found it fascinating. Not just for the stories they'd tell me, but for their willingness to share them with me. In a way, it's an anthropological experiment, which is how Ofir looks at it: "I know for a fact that any place where there is a culture, there's a show. We obsess over every subculture or interesting, existing world. Everything and everyone can be turned into reality television."
Obviously there's a good way to hold a mirror up to subcultures (True Life is a great example) and a bad way (sorry, Jersey Shore), but the guy has a point. Have you ever known so much about drag queens or fashion designers or huge families or kids who live in Jersey? And of course no representation is accurate, and editing is editing, and writing happens on these shows, and we're fools to think that there isn't, but at the same time - I've never met anyone like Snooki my entire life. But on TV, in a way, I get to meet her.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Bret Michaels: An Appreciation
The dirtiest of my dirty reality TV secrets? Hands down, without a doubt, Rock of Love, in all of its incarnations. I started watching it thinking it would be Flavor of Love-esque: a whole lot of bottom-of-the-barrel girls doing ridiculous things to win a totally unappealing man with a clock around his neck and bad teeth.
But Bret Michaels is no Flava Flav. Oh no. Here's the thing: Rock of Love brought what I loved about FoL (crazy skanks, ridiculous challenges), but also revealed the kind of awesome person Bret Michaels appeared to be. He was unfailingly sweet and polite to the crazy drunk girls in his care (hello, he kissed a girl almost immediately after she vomited up Doritos and tequila!), he played "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" with genuine emotion (of course, if a song was paying my bills two decades after I wrote it, I'd be into it too), and he appeared to have a serious sense of humor about the show. Also, he's not hard to look at. While he doesn't look like his Poison 80s self anymore (see: right), he also hasn't aged in a fashion where it's completely ridiculous to think women may still want to have sex with him.
I don't doubt that he was genuinely into some of the girls, but you could tell he found the whole situation totally insane sometimes. And come on: "HIYO!" The dude's hilarious.
As I've previously mentioned on this blog, I've had the opportunity to meet some really random "celebrities" in the past few years, mostly reality stars, but Bret Michaels has eluded my grasp. Not for a lack of trying, though, as I have attended (more then one) concert(s) and managed to meet other members of his entourage. Like right-hand man Big John (left)! And bassist Dirty Ray (bottom right)! And yes, I showered thoroughly after these photo ops. Briefly I considered making my 2009 Christmas cards out of the photos I have with members of the Bret Michaels Band...but then I realized many of the photos of the nights in question really have no business being transported through the U.S. Postal Service.
But in any case, this post isn't about my questionable behavior at his concerts, this post is about the man, the myth, the legend, Bret Michaels. Here's the thing: when I heard about his brain going all haywire, I was really legitimately bummed out. Not because there are more trashy rock shows I need to attend in this lifetime, and not because I still don't have a picture with him, but because he seems like such a good guy. He loves his fans, he loves the music that made him famous, and he really seems to appreciate everything he's been given. I was reading an article in People last month (before all of his health problems) about him and his daughters and their Arizona home and I was like, dang, I want to go to Bret's for a barbecue. And I'm not even kidding when I say I would have shed a tear for the guy if he hadn't pulled through. Of course, I cry at Humane Society commercials but still.
Part of it is the music, because I grew up with teenage siblings in the 1980s and in a way, I know the hair bands of that era better then I know the boy bands of my high school days. And Rock of Love really is one of my favorite reality shows ever. And I've had some of the best times I've ever had at a concert at his concerts, with friends who share a not-so-secret admiration for the man in the bandana. Who doesn't like to sing along to "Every Rose Has Its Thorn"? But the biggest part of it is he is fun to watch. Whether it's on TV or at a concert, he's a good guy having a good time and he wants you to have a good time too. I mean, he's got a song about it! I don't want nothin' but a good time either, Bret!
And it is with a somewhat heavy heart that I say, Bret, if this experience has made you marriage-minded and that means the end of Rock of Love, then I'm okay with that. From this week's People:
But Bret Michaels is no Flava Flav. Oh no. Here's the thing: Rock of Love brought what I loved about FoL (crazy skanks, ridiculous challenges), but also revealed the kind of awesome person Bret Michaels appeared to be. He was unfailingly sweet and polite to the crazy drunk girls in his care (hello, he kissed a girl almost immediately after she vomited up Doritos and tequila!), he played "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" with genuine emotion (of course, if a song was paying my bills two decades after I wrote it, I'd be into it too), and he appeared to have a serious sense of humor about the show. Also, he's not hard to look at. While he doesn't look like his Poison 80s self anymore (see: right), he also hasn't aged in a fashion where it's completely ridiculous to think women may still want to have sex with him.I don't doubt that he was genuinely into some of the girls, but you could tell he found the whole situation totally insane sometimes. And come on: "HIYO!" The dude's hilarious.
As I've previously mentioned on this blog, I've had the opportunity to meet some really random "celebrities" in the past few years, mostly reality stars, but Bret Michaels has eluded my grasp. Not for a lack of trying, though, as I have attended (more then one) concert(s) and managed to meet other members of his entourage. Like right-hand man Big John (left)! And bassist Dirty Ray (bottom right)! And yes, I showered thoroughly after these photo ops. Briefly I considered making my 2009 Christmas cards out of the photos I have with members of the Bret Michaels Band...but then I realized many of the photos of the nights in question really have no business being transported through the U.S. Postal Service.
But in any case, this post isn't about my questionable behavior at his concerts, this post is about the man, the myth, the legend, Bret Michaels. Here's the thing: when I heard about his brain going all haywire, I was really legitimately bummed out. Not because there are more trashy rock shows I need to attend in this lifetime, and not because I still don't have a picture with him, but because he seems like such a good guy. He loves his fans, he loves the music that made him famous, and he really seems to appreciate everything he's been given. I was reading an article in People last month (before all of his health problems) about him and his daughters and their Arizona home and I was like, dang, I want to go to Bret's for a barbecue. And I'm not even kidding when I say I would have shed a tear for the guy if he hadn't pulled through. Of course, I cry at Humane Society commercials but still.
Part of it is the music, because I grew up with teenage siblings in the 1980s and in a way, I know the hair bands of that era better then I know the boy bands of my high school days. And Rock of Love really is one of my favorite reality shows ever. And I've had some of the best times I've ever had at a concert at his concerts, with friends who share a not-so-secret admiration for the man in the bandana. Who doesn't like to sing along to "Every Rose Has Its Thorn"? But the biggest part of it is he is fun to watch. Whether it's on TV or at a concert, he's a good guy having a good time and he wants you to have a good time too. I mean, he's got a song about it! I don't want nothin' but a good time either, Bret!
And it is with a somewhat heavy heart that I say, Bret, if this experience has made you marriage-minded and that means the end of Rock of Love, then I'm okay with that. From this week's People:
"As painful as this experience has been, I was given a second chance, right? I don't want to sit around every night worrying this is going to happen again. What I want to do is make a positive bucket list and say, 'I'm just gonna go for it.' There's just so much more I want to do and experience. [Getting married], for sure, is something I have never done. Kristi's such a great person. We'll see if that happens. But yes, that may be one of the big things on the list. My first goal is to get back to 100 percent. I want to continue to rock the world, and I want to continue to love my family and be a good father."Cheers, buddy. Get well soon. And then come back to Minnesota so I can make an ass out of myself at a concert and get that picture with you I need to complete the collection.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Yay Bret!
Bret Leaves Hospital, Will Recover
This is seriously very exciting. I have been mulling over a Bret Michaels appreciation post for a while, but it felt a little too much like a premature obituary. Now that it appears he is going to live and getting a full set of photos with the Bret Michaels Band is still an option for me, I feel much more inspired. Stick around, I'll try to make that happen this weekend.
I am tragically behind on all things blog because I am tragically behind on all things TV because I am never home to watch anything anymore. I did watch Real Housewives of New Jersey, and man, am I glad to see those crazy bitches back again. I missed their lunacy. More to come on that as well, but in the meantime, check out Danielle's straight up nuts blog. Holy crap.
Is anyone else really excited to see Alex flipping out on Jill on Real Housewives of NYC tomorrow night?
More to come! Promise! Kisses!
This is seriously very exciting. I have been mulling over a Bret Michaels appreciation post for a while, but it felt a little too much like a premature obituary. Now that it appears he is going to live and getting a full set of photos with the Bret Michaels Band is still an option for me, I feel much more inspired. Stick around, I'll try to make that happen this weekend.
I am tragically behind on all things blog because I am tragically behind on all things TV because I am never home to watch anything anymore. I did watch Real Housewives of New Jersey, and man, am I glad to see those crazy bitches back again. I missed their lunacy. More to come on that as well, but in the meantime, check out Danielle's straight up nuts blog. Holy crap.
Is anyone else really excited to see Alex flipping out on Jill on Real Housewives of NYC tomorrow night?
More to come! Promise! Kisses!
Monday, April 26, 2010
break my heart!
I'm going to pretend I didn't hear my future husband Jet talking about his wife and 17-month-old daughter on The Amazing Race last night. I'd appreciate it if you'd all help me continue to live in my state of denial.
Anyway, WOAH. Holy good episode. The teams headed off to Shanghai and had to do a series of non-physical but incredibly difficult tasks. Between noodle-making and dressing models at the fashion house and putting together a huge puzzle at the football stadium...it was an intense leg. And I'm happy to say that for the first time ever watching The Amazing Race I didn't pick up on it being a non-elimination leg until Phil told the detectives that they weren't going home just yet. Nice work. I can't remember having a non-elimination leg this late in the game before?
And of course my wonderful cowboys came in first. But let's talk strategy for a minute. Brent and Caite, aka "the models", aka Miss Teen South Carolina and her doofy boyfriend, made a big deal about U-Turning Brandy and Carol (sending them back to complete an extra task) last week because one time Carol said something disparaging about Caite being a dumb beauty queen. Brandy and Carol were eliminated as a result of that decision.
Okay, fine, take out your seventh grade aggressions, but that decision didn't help the models at all this week. At. All. I say this with a heart full of love for the cowboys, but what kind of idiots do you have to be to not knock out the team that's placed first four times now? And instead take out a team that hadn't placed first once? On a reality show where you hardly ever see the other contestants, let alone talk to them? I mean, they can take offense to people thinking she's a dumb beauty queen, but, um, you kind of are. Hello. Strategy is not about feelings. I'm really hoping the detectives can make a comeback next week and send those dumb bunnies back on the stupid ship from whence they came.
I've barely been home at all lately, which leaves little time for things like cleaning and feeding my cat, let alone watching reality TV and writing about it. I have a whole two and a half hours of 16 and Pregnant to watch! Sacrilege!
Also: Bret Michaels? Get better soon, dude. Seriously. For all his making-out-with-Playmates on VH1-ness, he seems like a genuinely good guy who loves what he does, and he has two little girls at home, plus people like me who won't be satisfied until I've met all the members of the Bret Michaels Band after a show at a casino. Right now the only one I'm missing is Bret, so, you know, buddy, you need to get out of the hospital and make that happen for me.
Anyway, WOAH. Holy good episode. The teams headed off to Shanghai and had to do a series of non-physical but incredibly difficult tasks. Between noodle-making and dressing models at the fashion house and putting together a huge puzzle at the football stadium...it was an intense leg. And I'm happy to say that for the first time ever watching The Amazing Race I didn't pick up on it being a non-elimination leg until Phil told the detectives that they weren't going home just yet. Nice work. I can't remember having a non-elimination leg this late in the game before?
And of course my wonderful cowboys came in first. But let's talk strategy for a minute. Brent and Caite, aka "the models", aka Miss Teen South Carolina and her doofy boyfriend, made a big deal about U-Turning Brandy and Carol (sending them back to complete an extra task) last week because one time Carol said something disparaging about Caite being a dumb beauty queen. Brandy and Carol were eliminated as a result of that decision.
Okay, fine, take out your seventh grade aggressions, but that decision didn't help the models at all this week. At. All. I say this with a heart full of love for the cowboys, but what kind of idiots do you have to be to not knock out the team that's placed first four times now? And instead take out a team that hadn't placed first once? On a reality show where you hardly ever see the other contestants, let alone talk to them? I mean, they can take offense to people thinking she's a dumb beauty queen, but, um, you kind of are. Hello. Strategy is not about feelings. I'm really hoping the detectives can make a comeback next week and send those dumb bunnies back on the stupid ship from whence they came.
I've barely been home at all lately, which leaves little time for things like cleaning and feeding my cat, let alone watching reality TV and writing about it. I have a whole two and a half hours of 16 and Pregnant to watch! Sacrilege!
Also: Bret Michaels? Get better soon, dude. Seriously. For all his making-out-with-Playmates on VH1-ness, he seems like a genuinely good guy who loves what he does, and he has two little girls at home, plus people like me who won't be satisfied until I've met all the members of the Bret Michaels Band after a show at a casino. Right now the only one I'm missing is Bret, so, you know, buddy, you need to get out of the hospital and make that happen for me.
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