Okay, I admit it.
I looooove reality shows. Apparently the more ridiculous show, the better I like it. But I do draw the line at I Love New York. As much as I enjoy watching a train wreck, I really don’t need to see a close up of the leaking bodily fluids.
My two favorites are Top Chef and Project Runway, even though haute cuisine and haute couture are only interesting to me as crossword puzzle answers. These two shows rarely have much real drama – it’s the competition that’s so intriguing.
Tonight I watched The Bachelor, as I have fairly faithfully all season. Some friends and I just love to snark about the casts of this show. Even if they have a few brain cells the producers and editors rarely fail in making them look like complete and total idiots. Complete and total. They are just so very snarkworthy.
Tonight The Bachelor made his choice, but in case you have it TiVo’d I won’t spoil the surprise for you.
I was struck, though, by what a cast-off Bachelorette said as she was being driven away after being kicked to the curb. Mystified as to why he sent her packing after singing her many praises, she said, “I’m sick of being the one that makes that guy perfect for the next one.”
Amen, sister. I have been that many, many times in my life.
When you find the right one, though, you’ll be reaping the benefits of the modifications made by some other woman who prepped Right Guy for you.
Unless you’re Mary Kay Letourneau. And she’s just creepy.
Another hint, dear. You weren’t likely to meet him on a show where he’s got to date 24 other women. Huh.
See my other post discussing The Bachelor here.