I Want My MTV (Yeah, RIGHT)
by Rockstar Mommy
I mentioned recently that I've had an indecent amount of MTV exposure as of late because of my teenage step-kids' obsession with it. Even though there is not one moment while that channel is on my television that I do not mumble under my breath how I would rather adopt a kid with Woody Allen than be forced to watch another minute of such mind-numbing horse shit, sometimes it truly is just impossible to look away. Talk about a train wreck. Let's see, we've got:
I Want A Famous Face
The show that showcases the most pathetic of all homosapiens who are so insecure and vain, that they decide to have plastic surgery to look like the celebrity they find the most beautiful. I've watched this show only once and I didn't make it to the end, even though I really wanted to see the end result, because I was too busy looking at the inside of my toilet bowl while dry heaving.
The Real World, Season 8,935,076,352
Admittedly, I watched the first Real World season. But, in my defense, reality show was non the lifeform it currently is. There were game shows, Candid Camera, and Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Oh, and I was 11. So, there's that. It was still annoying, but slightly fascinating. But now I don't understand why people keep watching. It is virtually the same thing over and over again. And after the first three dozen seasons, it became comparable to HBO's Real Sex series. And at least with Real Sex, they don't blur out the boobs in the fake-lipstick-lesbian hot tub scenes.
Where a "hot" and extremely "cool" male/female picks from 3 potential "hot" and "cool" dates by raiding their bedrooms while no one is home, including searching through the dirty clothes hamper... with a black light. Substitute the words "hot" with "a little less than overwhelmingly grotesque" and "cool" with "more irritating than Fran Drescher's voice on whip-its" and you've got it.
My Super Fucking Sweet Sixteen
Daddy's rich. Noted. Now can I punch you in that spoiled, bratty, rotten little face of yours? If for no other reason than to steal all those Dior gift/goodie bags you're handing out to your guests.
A bunch of teenyboppers gathered around Time Square to talk about good music. I'm not even sure why I get annoyed with this one at all. It'd be like NASA asking Lindsay Lohan to help them get their broken down rocket ship home from Mars. Don't be surprised when she IM's Bruce Willis to ask for Ben Affleck's number to figure out how they launched off of that meteor last minute like that.
The Pussycat Dolls
While not exclusively an MTV thing, they're ALWAYS on there, so they get included in the package. Okay, we get it, you're hot as hell. But couldn't you better suit the world with a traveling burlesque show? Or a Hustler centerfold? Or a Paris Hilton style sex tape? Or tossing each other into a ring of Jello with Mini-Me as the referee? Whatever is your thing, please do it and stick to it. But, it's quite obvious this "singing" thing is not it. So for the sake of humanity, please STOP with the singing. My boyfriend probably does wish I was sexy like you, you're right on the money. We're in full agreement. Please, let's move on now. You're making my kids tone deaf.
I'm deeply ashamed even admitting I've made it through any of the above. But MTV, in my opinion, is just like popping a massive zit on someone else's back. You know you really shouldn't be doing it and you're completely disgusted, but sometimes you have to find out just how gross it can get.
Rockstar Mommy and the editors of FTTW agree: The Pussycat Dolls have zero redeeming qualities. At all. Ever.