Do you remember that feeling of waking up on Christmas morning after little sleep because the anticipation was killing you?…So you ran up to that tree an prayed to big baby Jesus that Santa Claus didn’t stiff you again on some bullshit ass gifts? Well, I don’t because I’m a half-ass Muslim, but I imagine that watching Bravo’s premiere of the Real Housewives of Atlanta is the same feeling. All day I paced myself, drinking alcohol, writing up some news, texting the boo, all to kill time until my world was rocked and my brain cells were murdered by that one hour show. And what do you go and do Bravo? You plant a fight between Sheree and some queen (who claims that he’s not gay) plus throw the shiniest Barbie Doll wig that they make and put it all up and through Kim’s head. I mean really Housewives? What are you doing to me man? What are you doing?
NeNe’s Peter Pan wig that rides up in the back? Check. Lisa pretending that she only has one child when she really has three? Check. Kim looking like a retarded beauty school drop-out? Check. Sheree getting’ the boot up outta her spot for being mean, stupid and broke? Check. Check. Check! Snap! This shit is amazing! I mean how is it that I am drawn to this show like a moth to a flame?…Like a ghetto rat to some cheese. I mean I just can’t get enough and guess what? I like it! I don’t even care that this show goes against everything that is right with the world. I don’t care that as soon as the words: “Did you watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta?” escapes my perfect little lips, I get dumber. Guess what people? Judge me if you will, but I like it. Better yet, I love it. And if heaven exists I hope that there is a TV up there where they run all of my favorite shows on an endless loop. And if I’m super lucky, and God is a merciful God (which I have been told that he is), he will make sure that that damn show is all up and through my TiVo, that Kim and NeNe never stop fighting, that Sheree continues to look like an Ice Queen with really nice hair. Oh, and that Kandi’s 6-year-old daughter/best friend remains amazingly grown as she lets her mom know (in not so uncertain terms) that she does NOT want her to marry dude with 6 damn kids. Hahahaha! Good stuff you crazy bitches. Now keep it coming!
P.S. Dear TV One, I get that MJ (or Mikey J as I call him) is dead and its all sad and what not. We all miss him, but I’mma need you to STOP running the same damn tribute performance from 2001 with Usher draped in a loincloth looking like Boo Boo Da Fool. Thanks. ‘Preciate it!
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