The Real Despair of Adam Miller

Update: All went well on Thanksgiving. Good food, good times.

So I watched "The Real Housewives of Orange County" last night on Bravo for the first (and hopefully last) time. I don't even know where to begin. I fought a brief bout with nausea during the opening credits when they all took turns saying what money meant to them. Let's just say that I'll be a happy man if I ever have a family that loves me as much as these women love their money. Highlights of the hour included: a mother forcing her obviously uncomfortable 18 year old daughter to take her top off at a photo shoot for her first modeling job, a 21 year old son going clubbing with his mother and her exceptionally lame (but rich) boyfriend and everyone trying to act like it wasn't super awkward and more than a little creepy, and the whole group getting obnoxiously drunk at lunch. Darcy and I had a conversation afterwards about whether or not the wives realized they were the punchline of an unfunny joke. We settled on "No."

Why don't we just call this whole series what it actually is: "Al Qaeda Recruitment Footage?" Seriously, who can watch this show and honestly wonder why the terrorists hate us? When I watch this show I hate us for all that we are and all that we stand for to the rest of the world. Then I hate myself for watching it. There's plenty of hate to go around when this show is on.

One positive effect of the whole experience was to reemphasize my commitment to keep cable TV out of my home, at least for the immediate future. And all it took was a single hour of reality television. Well done, Bravo network. Well done.