I resisted Dancing with the Stars. I graciously didn't have to witness Strange Love, the Flavor Flav/ Bridgette Nielson thing. I try to avoid reality shows that feature celebrities. I prefer to watch amateurs that think that their reality show will make them a celebrity.
However, it started this summer when I got addicted to My Life On the D-List. Mostly because I love Kathy Griffin. I'm totally watching her new Bravo reality show Alledly when it comes out.
But then came Celebrity Fit Club. I have to admit there's always something fascinating about seeing stars you remember as a kid that have been Supersized. They have great excuses for it to, like "I didn't want to be a sex symbol anymore" when the truth was "I wanted to taste every flavor of Haagen Daaz ever made."
My favorite was Jeff Conaway because he was clearly messed up. Not only on drugs, but also on ego. I don't care if you're the pope, when you start referring to yourself and using "THE" in front of your name, you deserve the fall, buddy.
And then last week came the worst of my digressions: Skating with Celebrities. I won't watch them dance, but add the element of potential danger and I'm there. Plus it had Todd Bridges, who didn't let me down by 1) not being able to skate and 2) using a phrase from Diff'rent Strokes that wasn't even HIS character's catchphrase. Priceless, but endearing in its sadness.
I watched again this week. I think Jillian Barberie and Kristy Swanson are the only ones worth really pulling for. What the hell am I talking about? I'm watching this for the same reasons I watch any celebrity-based reality show: I'm waiting for someone to fall.
No comments:
Post a Comment