It came to me at 9.30pm last night as I watched Channel 10's the Pussy Cat Dolls Present: Search for the New Doll (or whatever).
This show personifies everything I love about reality TV. It's incredibly trashy, everyone bitches about everyone else, it's graced by/hosted by/judged by C-grade celebrities and it features girls trying to out-skank each other. Obviously it's completely awesome. And yet...
When I watch this kind of thing with girls it's a top-shelf bitch fest. I get to make fun of the boring girl who looks like a pre-nose job Ashley Simpson or the girl who cried because (apparently) she's blown away at how good her voice sounds. I can talk about how much I hate that little growling noise singers make and snigger at the classic reality TV show 'reaction shots' and the dodgy cuts where some production editor has clearly mish-mashed some random shots together to get the storyline or conflict that he or she wants.
But watching trashorific TV with Andy... well, for a start, Andy can't stand it and disappears into the other room. So I'm watching it by myself and... who am I supposed to make sarcastic remarks to?
I have to get right up against the wall and shout if I expect my neighbours to hear my one liners and re-hashing the show the next day tends to take the spontaneity out of comparing some poor unfortuante soul's weave to roadkill. Instead I end up sitting on the couch and worrying that if someone walked into the room they'd think I was enjoying it in a, you know, non ironic way.
They might even think I coveted the hideous panty-baring minidresses sported by four girls last night instead of day-dreaming about how many sequins it takes to look that tacky and how the girls were probably all furiously sewing by torchlight to take the hems up half a freaking foot. Okay those dresses were sort of fantastic in a crotch-displaying tranny way but still...
New policy? I'm keeping Ali and Ruth on speed dial so I can call them up and bellow "Is she supposed to be fellating that pole?" down the phone at them at only a seconds notice. Actually I could probably have a text message ready to go with "Is she supposed to be fellating that..." and fill in the blanks as I go. Yes, folks: it's that awesome - why aren't you watching it?