I was gravely concerned that after the outpouring of genuine sentiment and human devastation that occurred on last week’s show that it would be impossible for me to dive right in and judge these women in the way that they are apparently fine with being judged as long as they continue to hold onto a semblance of fame and the hope that they’ll one day snag an endorsement deal for a line of alcohol that nobody off one of these shows ever drinks. I mean, things started to feel different. An actual death transpired. There is now a body count in the OC.

Luckily for me – and really anybody who has a television and tunes in to this Botox-and-silicone-freak-show – Tamra still exists and the episode begins with some of her typical ridiculousness that allows me know immediately that everything will be just fine. Like a warm embrace from a t*t-enhanced angel, the first scene floated down and bathed me in the security and knowledge that life happens in cycles, that seasons pass seamlessly … Continue reading →

As much as I enjoy entertainment that involves both frigid chills and terrifying thrills, one thing I have never been drawn to is gratuitous carnage. And it is with that aversion in mind that I have decided to start a petition to remove Shannon from The Real Housewives of Orange County before her head goes spinning off of her neck and gains real height and then bursts into a pink pulpy mess midair like a psychologically-damaged watermelon. Now, I know what you’re going to say: Shannon makes for good television with her array of crazy – and I wouldn’t argue with that – but I also genuinely believe that we are watching a woman implode from within and the whole thing has started to make me feel just a little bit grimy.

Shannon is an adult. She is not thirty. Yet somehow during all of her stages of development, she managed to leap over the stage where she should have learned the skill to at least appear differently on the outside from how she actually … Continue reading →

According to an online quiz that I’m positive is completely reputable and totally scientific, the owl is my spirit animal. Yes, both Ollie the Owl (I named my spirit animal – it makes it so much more meaningful) and I are brimming with intuition and wisdom and with this new validation I feel I can make a statement: Shannon is a walking, deflecting frayed piece of a gnarled nerve that I imagine she likes to chew on so she won’t bite her nails or actually consume anything with a caloric content and she very well may be whatever the clinical definition is for “completely deranged.” Now, I realize that I am not a doctor and sure, I barely passed Biology, and okay, maybe the results of that quiz were wrong and I’m really a koala, but I still feel relatively comfortable offering up such a diagnosis because to look at the scenario in any other way would require that we believe that Meghan was legitimately out of line for initially calling Shannon on her very … Continue reading →