I'm about to out myself as thoroughly lowbrow, but I've been watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Again, I blame my spouse, who watches these things as I'm on my computer. He doesn't put a gun to my head, but the proximity ensures I will see parts of his trash TV shows and then become extremely involved in and opinionated about them.
BH hooked me because I was fascinated with Kim Richards when I was a kid; she and Ike Eisenmann seemed amazingly sexy and cool (keep in mind I was younger than they were then!) and I loved movies that showed kid power—what was Escape to Witch Mountain but "kid power"? It was about kids with powers!
Though I have to fault Kyle for being friends with Faye Resnick and I have to fault them both for being aunts to Paris Hilton, these things become forgivable when compared to the soul-sucking awfulness that is Camille Grammer, the former softcore porn actress and blatantly kept woman who sniffed at Resnick's Playboy past despite her own.
The other chicks have their ups and downs as well—Lisa has an annoying hauteur (she really feels the DMV is in a "scary" neighborhood and that it might be dangerous because it's so "...eclectic"? Bitch is scared of a few Latinos and Asians!) but is at times level-headed, Taylor is nuts and needs lip intervention, Adrienne seems un-insane but her completely plastic-and-fillers face is distracting.
Camille's tight with Nick Stabile, the only positive thing about her!
But forget all of them—the single worst human being ever spotted on reality TV arrived on a recent episode: Allison DuBois. First, I was shocked to learn that Medium, a show I've watched in reruns occasionally and enjoyed despite its completely ridiculous storylines and repetitive structure (scary thing happens, Allison jumps up from her dream, husband consoles her in his pajamas, cops doubt her visions despite previous 100% track record, case solved), is based on a real woman. Second, I was shocked to learn that the woman it's based on isn't a frumpy, frazzled, scrupulous-to-a-fault mom, but is instead a classless pig who pals around with terrifying Camille Grammer.
On the episode in question, DuBois bragged about not only her psychic abilities but her exposure to "70 million viewers" via Oprah and her unbelievable success in life before making outrageously offensive pronouncements to Kyle like "your husband will never fulfill you emotionally" punctuated by the snarky catchphrase, "Know that." She also made obscene gestures that even the New Jersey housewives would find tacky and beneath them.
But the worst part about her, the thing that seemed to encapsulate her awfulness was her smoking. I'm not a fan of smoking, and she was puffing an electric cigarette, but I don't mean the fact that she smoked was annoying anyway—it was how she did it. Have you seen this? She smokes with this weird affectation that's part bad Bette Davis impersonation, part Indonesian baby, part demonic possession.
Kelly Bensimon would think this wench was off her rocker!
I've never had such a visceral reaction to a TV personality before...and you know me, I have visceral reactions to, like, everything! But this time, I felt like a villager with a pitchfork and I was ready to chase her into her tower.
I guess the new definition of good TV is bad people. I hope I can kick the habit before I get addicted because while it may not cause cancer, it can't be good for me to absorb this toxic stuff.