I'm not proud of it, but I've started watching a lot more Vh1 (blame it on the writer's strike). I've been sucked into the world of celebreality with shows like "Celebrity Rehab," which chronicles a bunch of B-list celebrities recovering from various drug and alcohol addictions under the careful watch of Dr. Drew Pinsky (of syndicated radio show "Love Line").
Maybe it's that I've watched some of my own family deal with these demons before, but the show is surprisingly poignant.
What I'm more ashamed of is my recent obsession with "Rock of Love II" (9 p.m. Sundays) where Poison singer Bret Michaels must, once again, find a large-chested groupie Barbie to rock his world.
You might ask how an educated, mild-mannered newspaper woman should come to watch (and enjoy!) a show that completely exploits women with bad hair for the entertainment of viewers and a gross has-been like Bret Michaels.
Well, it's because of scenes like these:
The thing is, I feel really bad for Aubry. She seems like a nice girl. Despite the fact that she was trying really hard to look like fem-Bret, I feel like her heart was probably in the right place.
But come on! You let someone style your hair that way? You're going to spend your last two minutes of fame crying over this guy who can't look up past your neck? You're "giving up" your spot on the show for a woman who's emotional stability is only slightly above Britney Spears'.
Sigh. I'm actually almost talking myself out of watching the next episode.
Almost. I need to find out what happens with the ladies head to a rodeo. I guess I watch because celebreality makes me feel blessed that my own life has so much less phony.
Leave a comment