The other day I did some quick calculating (this is a lie; anything involving math takes me an hour) and figured out that Boyfriend has only been home 6 days since August 18th. Six! That leaves over 3 weeks when he was gone, which adds up to a lot of hours of bad reality television shows watched in an effort to distract myself. I know, I know, I could’ve been reading a book or something noble, but sometimes a girl needs to just zone out. If you figure I was soaking up 3 hours a day on the weekdays and 8 on the weekends (conservative estimates), what does that average out to? 5.5? Multiply that by x, where x equals the number of days Boyfriend was in India or Cincinnati or DC and you come up with OH MY GOD, MY BRAIN IS MELTING.
Not every reality show I indulged in was particularly terrible, but there is a certain level of, shall we say, grossness that comes with watching a scripted drama trying to pass itself off as reality in any number of staged situations. Such gems included Project Runway, Million Dollar Listing, Real Housewives (New York and New Jersey), etc. Halfway through The Best Three Weeks for My Cable Box, I started to notice something funny about some of the “characters” (because that’s essentially what they are); they reminded me of other people I’d seen before, and not just because I’d watched the same episodes multiple times already. Lots of the faces looked familiar, but I couldn’t place them.
It finally clicked for me when, in the middle of a marathon of Million Dollar Listing New York, a car commercial came on with a cameo appearance by Tom Brady. So that’s where I’d seen one of the brokers on the show before! He’s a dead-ringer for the Patriots quarterback, although a much crouch-ier version. My friend Hunter came up with that word, it’s a combination of creep and douche.
Uncanny, am I right? And then it’s like the floodgates to whatever bizarre part of my mind is responsible for recognizing faces opened up and I couldn’t watch anything without mentally comparing them to the visual rolodex in my head. Shit got weird for a while.
Near the end of Boyfriend’s hiatus from America, I got really into old MTV reruns of Real World/Road Rules Challenges. You know what I’m talking about, the good old days of MTV from the early 2000s where they would have a million different gauntlet-style battles, wherein a bunch of 20-somethings, aiming to stay relevant after their respective season of their other reality show had ended, lived in Island villas and competed in pointless battles of physical strength and there was lots of scheming and conniving to eliminate fellow teammates and lots and lots of hooking up. Too bad they don’t air repeats on tv anymore, but at least there’s Youtube. You know what’s on Youtube? EVERYTHING. Including Real World/Road Rules Battle of the Sexes from 2003, the show that introduced me to hot dudes with French accents by way of Antoine de Bouverie. I’m pretty sure he is what started the entire French Man obsession, all those years ago.
Thanks, buddy. Call me, maybe.
Another contestant was Tonya, of Real World fame, who I figured out looks just like one of the idiots from Teen Mom 2. It’s like a reality tv gold medal, trying to see which of these girls can out un-class the other. And before you get all judge-y on me, NO, I don’t watch Teen Mom. Even I have standards. Sidenote: you try finding a picture of a slutty former porn star-turned-Real World contestant with all her clothes on. And they say blogging isn’t hard work.
They could be past and future versions of each other. Don’t worry, 17 year old girl with twins, you will grow up and still be on MTV!
And then there’s another Real World contestant, Robin, who looks sort of like Scarlett Johansson. I said “sort of” because it’s not identical, and it’s harder to see it in photos than it is when she’s talking on screen.
Also, if Robin’s boobs get any farther apart they are going to end up in her armpits.
Like I said, I don’t always watch such inarguable garbage. Project Runway is actually a respectable show. It’s won Emmys! And the drama is always contained to things like “You stole my sewing machine!” not “You stole my man!” But occasionally, there is a contestant so ridiculous that the only comparison I can make is…well, here you go:
Aside from the fact that Kooan could barely speak English, he provided so much entertainment in the time he was on the show. Here, he is wearing a bright blue jumpsuit that he has tied around his waist. He’s the spitting image of a Sanrio cartoon.
If you made it through this entire post and a) didn’t roll your eyes and b) still want to associate with me, congratulations! I tried to scale it back; I have an entire post dedicated to America’s Next Top Model look-alikes that I’ve spared you from.
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Hi! My name is Erin.
I like sleeping, Paris, gin, books, Oxford commas, and Gary Oldman. Read More→