Men and Reality TV
I think TV programming has a direct correlation to the downfall of mankind. When supposed “men” are watching shows like, ‘The Bachelor’, you might as well cash in what few chips you have left and call it a day. There is no way this man is providing for a family unless he’s giving $5 blow jobs in the back of a ‘Town & Country’ to a guy who’s trying hard to bust a nut quickly so he can get home to his naïve wife and watch the ‘Big Brother’ season finale. I’m not saying I have anything against gay men (except for the whole ‘penis in my butt’ thing), as a matter of fact, on some level we would like gay men to provide the more emotional side, and shopping companionship that our wives crave. But when our entire male population is turning into one big pile of sobbing man mass, it’s a huge problem. 1950’s business man (aka, man of the house) would kick our metro asses while drinking scotch neat; then makes us cook him a steak (medium rare of course). Hell, women of the 50’s were more bad ass than the men of today.
One of the biggest clues that man has completely lost his link to the dinosaur killing awesomeness of the past is the fucking ‘man’icure. That’s where men, you know…beer drinking, fist fighting, hairy, farting men…get manicures and pedicures. There aren’t enough expletives in the world that can convey the abject pissed off horror I feel about that. PEDICURE!! Seriously, are you fucking with me!? Do me a favor and just cut your balls off right now because you don’t need them. Just snuggle up on the couch with your BFF and a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s and watch the drama unfold on ‘The Real Housewives of Fargo’, or whatever the fuck, you castrated shadow of a man. “OMG! Can you believe what that skank just did?! What-ev!”
And while I’m at it, mother fuck Oprah, that donut destroying lady beast! Who said she could empower women the way she does? Hear me out, I feel like I’m taking crazy pills because within the last decade women want to be treated like special flowers and catered to like the princesses they think they are. Well bitch, can you squeeze that veiny cankle and those sausage toes into that glass slipper? No! You fucking can’t so quit your whining and help me do something around this house before I lose my shit and actually make you start cleaning and cooking full fucking time. I’m not by any means saying beat your wife and chain her to the stove, but from what I’ve seen, every woman wants to feel like she’s in a fairy tale where everything is taken care of for them. But it’s not; this is reality so Disney can go fuck themselves too for filling little girls’ heads with unattainable dreams.
So ABC, NBC, CBS and Fox…bring back the 80’s and early 90’s where TV shows used real actors and men and women knew their roles; good ole’ fashioned, wholesome family fun. Not…I repeat not the misguided ’16 and Pregnant’ which seems to glorify stupid teenage girls getting pregnant; or ‘Sweet 16’ which seems to glorify stupid, rich teenage girls getting spoiled. As I said earlier, we’re not in England and you’re not a fucking princess! You’re white trash Trish and you live in a mobile home. Know your role and fucking deal with it. If you want better in life, go to college, get a good job and earn that shit you lazy whore.
Plus…writers need jobs; real jobs. Not jobs writing blogs on websites that maybe 8 people will see (most of which are just family). Meanwhile Cinnamon at the Hooters down the road gets a reality TV show documenting the trials and tribulations of becoming a feature dancer at ‘The Furry Beaver’. It’s not hard lady! I’ll tell you how to be a super slutty superstar in 3 steps:
1.) Take off clothes
2.) Shake titties
3.) Collect money from men
Boom! Star! Now get the fuck off my TV and put Small Wonder back on!