I recently had lunch with my old Kent State professor, Bill Sledzik. We were talking about the relevancy of blogs and the fact that only roughly 7% are active.
Do you realize how many dead end blogs that leaves out there, talking about everything from car repair to swinging Christian singles in your area? Well, I refuse to be another number. So tonight, after a long day which has left me with nothing important to say, I would like to write about a hopeless addiction to these Real Housewives series on Bravo.
I thought I had escaped the Atlanta version, but my wife DVRd the marathon last week. I have to say it is entertaining, problem is I just don’t like any of them. However, I dislike DeShawn the most. That would be DeShawn Snow, as in Eric Snow’s wife. Maybe that’s why I dislike her so much, because I see her living it up on the money Eric Snow has stolen from Cleveland (no, I’m not bitter). Or maybe it’s her annoying voice and complete inability to plan a fundraiser. Either way, she is my least favorite. I dislike her even more than Kim, who lies (about everything from her age to her singing ability) and would be working the register at Forever 29, er Forever 21, without money.
But I save my real adoration for the original – the Orange County girls. This is a great show. I think in times of economic depression, we like to see these kinds of shows as an escape – our generation’s version of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
Me? I watch because of Tamra Barney, my favorite of all the Housewives. This season it seems she has a little competiton to her self-proclaimed throne of hottest housewife as 30-year-old Gretchen Rossi arrives. Gretchen is dating a man 24 years older than her, but hold the jokes seeing as he just passed away from Leukemia in September. And while I do feel bad for her loss, she is no more 30 than Kim is 29.
This season just lauched and it’s looking pretty good. It really puts a crimp in my Tuesday night productivity, especially now that it’s void of my least favorite housewife, Tammy Knickerbocker. She is gone, finally, along with her two daughters. We were supposed to feel sorry for them last year as they slummed it, moving from their house, one of the largest in the county, to a rented $1.3m proparty.
So there you have it. My secret addiction to the Real Housewives. Hopefully something more exciting happens to me tomorrow or else I will have to subject you to my infatuation with Antique Roadshow (I’m kind of kidding).