I’ll try being nicer if you try being smarter!

I have awful taste in TV shows. So it obviously stands to follow that I was riveted to the screen this evening, watching the latest batch of attention whores waltz around in front of cameras 24/7 in an attempt to validate their sad lives on Big Brother 8.

Now, usually you have to slog through these shows, watching a lot of dumb people state obvious things, or whisper underdeveloped and clearly doomed schemes into each others empty heads. But once in a while…..oh, folks, once in a while, it pays off.

Now, tonight’s food competition (where said vain attention whores wear as little clothing as possible and usually participate against one another in some type of activity that involves getting soaked in some type of foodstuff in an attempt to win the privilege of eating food for the next week, instead of the dreaded Slop) was nothing spectacular. In fact, it didn’t even involve wet T-shirts. Yeah, I know, I didn’t think that was legal on reality TV either.

The premise was this. They all had to run around, grab a guitar out of 200 sitting in the yeard, and smash it to pieces to get a ticket which was inside. It could have had Slop written on it, or a $ sign. That’s pretty much all you need to know. One girl was on a bit of a streak. She got like, 5 or 6 dollar signs in a row, which was much better than anybody else was doing.

In her post-competition monologue/interview, she was reflecting on this miraculous occurence. It went something like this: “Whenever it was my time, I’d turn and look, and one guitar would stand out among ALL the others. It was like God was telling me, there’s a dollar sign in that one and there’s a dollar sign in that one and there’s a dollar sign in that one. He was giving me strength in this house, helping me.”

Um, NO. Hahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaa. Are you for real? Like, seriously? I’m sorry, but I really just have a hard time believing that God has nothing better to do than listen to your prayers about finding slips of paper in guitars placed in the backyard of a reality TV set. He’s just sitting up there, waiting to cast heavenly glows on guitars awaiting their doom, filled with dollar signs.

I mean, it certainly couldn’t have just been, you know, how it happened. There’s no way it’s just a matter of chance or luck. I mean, that’s just crazy talk. The laws of probability simply wouldn’t allow for something like that. Clearly, must have been the Big Man. I guess she never took Grade 11 math.

It was awesome. The ridiculousness of it was sublime. Her sincerity was untrumped. No wonder reality TV has overrun traditional TV shows in the last while…..you just can’t write this shit.

I heart bad TV.


Comments on: "Are you there God? It’s me, Big Brother 8" (1)

  1. Do you think any of these assholes have even read 1984 and are aware of the seriously creepy implications of ‘big brother’? Because they’re not just watching you…they’re controlling you. As seen by the ability to make people act like complete idiots on t.v. for the sheer joy of simply being on t.v.

    I’m going to vomit now.

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