JR is making me watch Dancing with the Stars. By “making me”, I mean she’s watching it and it’s too hot to throw myself out the living room window, and thus, I’m stuck. In case you haven’t seen it, this show is kind of a cross between Solid Gold, the Surreal Life, American Idol and any other terrible show you’ve ever hated. Some of the b level celebrities on this show are Trista Sutter from the Bachelorette (who at the moment is modestly complaining about how sensual the Rhumba is, she’s sad she can’t do it with Ryan), Joey from the New Kids, Rachel Hunter, Elaine’s boss from Seinfeld, and Evander Holyfield.
Each pseudo-celeb is paired with a professional dancer and they are judged by what seems to be the dance versions of the American Idol judges. I really can’t tell the difference between the dances, and I doubt most of America (excluding JR and her mother) can either. [Kelly Monaco and her partner just did the Rhumba, the judges were not impressed. This quote by the co-host sums it up, “Oooh, 17 out of 30, that’s very low.”] Evander just got 14 out of 30 “That’s a tough score.” This show gets better the more I watch it. This show is live, I can’t wait for something, anything to happen. I can see Evander disagreeing with getting voted off and he quick jabs the host. Possibly more on this next week. Trista just got voted off. Serves her right, the prude! Except, wait, she redeemed herself in my eyes when asked by the host, “How does it feel getting kicked off the show?” Without skipping a beat, and with brutal sarcasm, “Uh, it sucks.” Yes, this is why I tune in, folks.
(I feel sad that at the beginning of this post, I wanted to push my TV down the stairs, now I’m definitely going to watch next week.)