From Pajiba’s Second Annual Shit List:
VH1: It wasn’t too long ago that E! could handily assert dominance in the competition to spew the most crap across America’s airwaves; the network is to Dumb Hollywood what Tass was to the old Soviet Union… These days, though, E!’s little more than an also-ran when measured against the unrestrained pabulum being dished out 24/7 on VH1. What started as a little harmless dabbling in the creatively exhausted Reality TV genre has exploded into a Cloverfield-monster-style leviathan, devouring the network’s entire schedule and vomiting it back out all over the viewing public as non-stop “Celebreality.” What’s worse, as with most reality programming of its ilk, the “celebrities” are largely musicians who should be playing state fairs by now (Bret Michaels), actors who never should’ve been fucking famous in the first place (Scott Baio), or once-greats who’ve decided to decimate a hallowed legacy by whoring themselves out for a quick buck (Flavor Flav). Add to that the repugnant neo-minstrelsy of “I Love New York,” and the network’s new slogan “Watch and Discuss” — as if this horseshit were actually something to be contemplated at length over a glass of Chateau D’Yquem ‘76 — and you’ve got a recipe for suffering that makes E! look like PBS. — Chez Pazienza
Actually, I’ve been brewing a semi-serious post on the odd appeal of reality shows like “Rock of Love” and “Tila Tequila” (which is on MTV, not VH1), and my newfound obsession with “Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew.” But apparently I have no taste. Except in wine. And not really in that either.
Speaking of which, is “Celebrity Rehab” not absolutely fucking delicious?
I thought Jeff Conaway was going to croak in the first episode. He was in rough shape.
Yeah, Jeff Conway was tough to watch. I thought he’d die any minute.
I tell you, I’m half tempted to blog about evey episode of my dumbass reality shows. I’m that addicted.
“I tell you, I’m half tempted to blog about evey episode of my dumbass reality shows. I’m that addicted.”
I share that addiction, and I’d read it. I mean, there can be no other explanation for watching Rock of Love except addiction.
“I tell you, I’m half tempted to blog about evey episode of my dumbass reality shows. I’m that addicted.”
Tell me about it. I just set my Tivo to record ‘My Fair Brady: Maybe Baby?’. There is no end to the cycle of shame/giddyness I feel when it comes to VH1.