I don’t watch television. And I most especially don’t watch reality television.
At least that’s what I say. And for the most part it’s true. Oh, I make the occasional high-brow exception (Downton Abbey) or give myself permission for current events (Jon Stewart or 60 Minutes). But I usually don’t. In fact it was months before I realized the blasted thing was broken and I had to get another.
No husbands around wanting to watch Howard Stern, NipTuck or football. No boyfriends around wanting to watch Girls Gone Wild or Jimmy Kimmel. (Joe Francis, creator of GGW, by the way, was just sentenced to 270 days in jail for assaulting a woman.)
Living alone, you get to do what you want and that includes watching, or not watching.
One of the great things about Jessamyn’s new San Francisco job is that she gets to visit more often. Work brings her to Los Angeles—“did you know it was going to be so beastly hot?”–and how better to decompress after 12 hours of work than with Million Dollar Listing?
It’s crazy and silly, Madison and the two Joshes show us the inside of the slimy real estate world. (Surely there is a similarly cliched woman they could add to the cast?) And yep, it seems gimmicky and staged for the cameras—the last episode had Madison spraying coyote urine all over a client’s yard to stave off the flower-munching deer. Can’t believe he’d be doing that absent the cameras.
Of course I’m going to watch with Jessamyn. I can also do the bills and fold laundry at the same time. What could be more fun than watching their ridiculous clients?
Maybe the ones on House Hunters International.
We had to pull out the hankies….laughter not crying…over the 22 year-old (!!!) trying to buy an apartment in the snazziest part of Paris.