The Real World - February 4th
a) This prank war is becoming the dumbest thing in the world. How fucking hypocritical! JD hates pranks being played on him, but he's one of the biggest prankstahs in the house. Ryan can dish it but has no idea how to take it.
b) Is this the first time that Abs has talked? Like... I don't even know him by anything other than his abs. Is it Josh? Caleb? Muscles? I'll just call him Muscles. But now he won't shut the eff up!
c) I HATE CHET. I HATE HIM WITH THE FIREY PASSION OF A THOUSAND SUNS. HOW DARE HE MEET HEY MONDAY AND PETE MOTHAH-FUCKIN' WENTZ BEFORE ME. (granted, I'm more of a Pat Stump boy myself. But that's besides the point.) I WANT TO HATE HIM WITH MY FISTS. IN HIS FACE. RIGHT IN IT. UGH. BUUUUUUH. I AM JUDGING YOU. GO HOME ORVILLE REDENBACHER. GO HOME. God DAMNIT! WHY ARE YOU HELPING HIM, PETE?? HE IS AWFUL!
d) Okay, Ryan has PTSD. But I love that he assumes that no one gets it... Devyn, while being batshit crazy, is a smart girl. Baya is smart-ish. I'll bet Kaitlynn has an idea or two. Muscles... Chet... JD... okay maybe notsomuch... But I'll bet tattoo girl knows everything about it, since she's going for an art therapy degree and they do a lot of art therapy with PTSD victims. I do really respect him for what he's gone through. Though I don't support the war, I support the troops til the end. I just want them home, safe, with us. I'm glad that Ryan and his buddy are home safe.
e) So I love Muscles/Scott. He's... from Bahston. From now on, whenever I'm talking about the real world, I'll occasionally throw in a Bahston accent, just because I love him. I also love that he's totally into black girls. I'd let him "do a lot of listening to" me.
f) Devyn is crazy. She's batshit crazy. She's fuckin' rude, too. Normal people don't need goddamn bffometers. At this point, Muscles has got to hate Devyn at this point, because she basically harasses him at all times. Not surprised he picked Baya as a cuddle-buddy vs. the other Devyn.
As much as it seems I want to punch The Real World in every genital it owns, I do love this show, and the entire cast. EXCEPT FOR CHET. HE CAN DIE IN A FIRE.
Oh deary dear dear dear. I have a terrible time with the Real World line of shows.
Perhaps it is because there is a lack of a 'goal', or that there are no eliminations to speak of (baring death, dismemberment, or disembowelment). I always have a terrible time recalling any of their names. It's not a competition, like many other shows of it's ilk; it is 'life', albeit life wrapped up in a glistening bubble wrap gloss, where everyone is Gorgeous, and everyone lives in The House I Will Never Be Able To Afford. Should they bond, then their lives are even more picturesque. Certainly, they never have to worry about mortgage payments, or the housing crisis, or the Meltdown Of The World Economy.
Instead, we have Chet all in a tizzy about whether or not he'll be meeting up with Pete Wentz for a cafe/pub style interview. Or Scott needing to ensure he packs both black and white pairs or underwear for his photo shoot.
Also, Scotty. Dearest sir, why do you phrase one of the most essential points of interpersonal relations as 'putting the listening on her'? The 'her' in this case being his revolving carousel of women? Listening isn't a 'playa style', or going through the motions of following a mental script of 'hey, this is where I am supposed to courtesy laugh'. These are human beings you infantile-yet-hard-chiseled boy of a man. Conversation is about give and take, a running contribution from all parties involved in it, not waiting for your turn to speak, You Tool.
Also...what's-your-face, because I'm not even going to dignify your existence with a proper noun, but the one responsible for spraying the shaving cream into the Iraq Veteran while he slept...you THINK he MIGHT have SOME ISSUES with being STARTLED AWAKE by UNKNOWN THINGS!?!?
You are the fetid pus stained scum on the underbelly of the roadkill on I-95.