You may have noticed my absence, though if I read the analytics, maybe not so much. I'll tell you the truth about my silence. I've made a discovery so perverse, so unimaginable that I've sunken into a hole of Grey's Anatomy (Next post will explain why the writing is technically awful), of scripted television where the characters are nice, fun, interesting and not total idiots.
Dish has realized: Celebrities are a-holes to be avoided at all times.
I don't know how journalists, tabloids, groupies or paps devote their time to them. They're idiots. They waste themselves, market their personas to sell products, don't care about others. Most of them can't put two words together and are so desperate to be photographed, they'll pretend to hate it, get publicly drunk or parade around in a new bikini on "vacation." Then they go onto Twitter and spout nothing special.
I've raised them to a higher standard for so long. Now I just think they're silly. Could this be the summer blues? I can't bear to read TMZ because it's the same people and who-cares kinds of stories. Sure, I'll search for blind items and when I hear that Bethenney's a total nightmare to work with, I cackle still. But my eyes can't take any more of the Kimye, the housewives, who only do the following:
1. Meet, talk about their new product lines.
2. Get into fights.
3. Meet in public place for lunch to discuss the fight.
4. Fight again.
5. Arrange awkward gettogether where more fighting can happen.
Even Duchess Kate giving birth did nothing for me. The Bachelorette is about to choose a crybaby for her true love. Ray Donovan and The Killing have become lame. Everyone is a hustler. It's not fun anymore.
Because I've devoted 45 years to celebrities, I'm waiting for a moment of redemption. Maybe Snooki will go to law school. Or Weiner and Spitzer will give up their campaigns and frolic in a tub of oil with their socks on and it will be filmed. Or maybe, a star will be caught reading Crime and Punishment. These would bring me hope.