Dancing with the Goofs is more like it. Man, they sure are getting freakin liberal about who they call "Stars" nowadays aren't they? Let's see them dance without the experts. I guess I can really understand how the great unwashed can get psyched about watching some
Saved by the Bell reject try to channel Ricardo Montalban, or some one legged frau who's only real claim to fame is that she married (and divorced) a Beatle. Who's next? The Geico Lizard? Here's how to make it more exciting: Call it Dancing with the Stairs! Have them rapidly mambo down a flight of concrete stairs to see who breaks their cursed skull open first. Better yet, make em do it all at once and call it a race. Now that's worth turning the channel for.
Oh goody... a night with a group of vacuous, materialistic dingbats, all discussing the value of speed botox or their sad disappointment in their husbands' salaries. Let's sit back an listen to what these bints "thought" there life was going to be... like we give a salted spit-wad. Perhaps real drama will ensue and they'll all be killed in a flash fire after their curling irons ignite their hair. Now you're talking, Tinker! Sign me up for that episode. I'd even buy the sountrack just to hear them scream.
Face it! If you're tuning into this cuck, you really need to send out for one medium LIFE with extra Clue sauce.
In an upcoming episode, Tyra surprises the girls by offering them a sniff of her deoderant. Then she deftly gives them an in-depth lesson about how to vomit smoothly after an intense bulemic binge-out. In part 2, She shows them how to model in front of a moving camera. Ya that sounds hard... for a paramecium... a
retarded paramecium. How about in front of a moving bus?
The girls are eventually greeted by Tyra's personal cocaine connection and, eventually, music video director Jesse Terrero, (sound like an oily bastard to you?) who tells them that they are going to participate in a "music" video with guest star Enrique Iglesias. Eglisias shamelessly gropes the bunch of them and tearfully declares: "That was for you Pappa."
Eventually, one of the models actually collapses during the shoot when she learns she's actually a Scorpio and not a Libra... and stupid. Oh the drama! Can you wait? I can.
You know what kind of show really compels me? a show about an ugly chick. Or better yet, an ugly chick who actually isn't really ugly. Ye Gawds, I'm sick of this twaddle. Hollywood sticks a bad pair of specs on a perfectly good looking actress, straightens out their hair and slaps braces on em and passes them off as ugly. (sure, maybe by LA standards) Then later in the "show" she doffs the glasses fixes the hair and loses the braces - BLAM! Insta-hottie. Suddenly she lands the cute boy "who never noticed her before, but now loves her for her personality." This cheap technique is similar to the Jerry Lewis method of looking like you've just blown yourself up. Tilt the glasses, mess-up the hair and cross your eyes. Genius! They do the same with "nerds" - but does anyone buy it? If you do... then just kill yourself. You're too gullible to live.
How about throwing a real fat, ugly skag in the show? - She'll NEVER get the cute boy no matter how much of her heart is gold. And no one will give a steamy squat. Let the cameras follow her to her trailer and watch her pig-out on ding-dongs, bananas and Zinfandel- then gaze in horror as she, sick with loneliness and failure, eats a hollow-point. P.S: the suicide note will have at least 2 misspellings if there's even a remote link to reality.
