Tila's Shot At Love

Admittedly, I don't care much for reality TV. A twisted outsider I may be, but I find very little joy in such programming. Most of it angers the hell out of me, a few tattered remains are mind-numbingly boring, and what little has caught my eye has only served to further deepen my disappointment.

Reality TV is not real, and it's really not real when it applies to celebrities. Case in point, any VH-1 based reality show where washed out, once popular icons seek mating potential in front of cameras for our amusement. This is about as fake as the real gets.

And sure the celebrity heart doth beat. Prick them and they bleed, their longing for compassion and companionship is entwined with our very own. Even the rich and well known deserve a chance to find true love. And given the option of allowing these pedestals of our time a chance to find it, or to keep them here in the dark petty and cynical world I've made for myself, I'd probably hand them a knapsack, pat them on the back, and send them on their way to love and happiness.

A thing of much splendor is love, however it is far from run of the mill. It can happen in the most violent and unpredictable ways, usually catching whatever unlikely bastard who wasn't expecting it completely off guard. We're talking nature-esque volatility here, ranking right up there with earthquakes, volcanoes, and Michael Jackson's face.

And here is where I encounter a problem, because while love isn't formulaic, these shows are.

They all take the same approach, throwing the new celebrity of the week into a nice house and are asked to pick from whatever brood stock of men, women, or in recent tradition both, lay before them. And how are these fine individuals and representatives of humanity picked for this atrocity? Selective criteria, what kind of criteria nobody knows. Could be mutual interest, or it could be computer graphed dimensions of breast size and how they compare to the Venus de Milo. Who knows? What is known, is that the game has already been fixed, and now it's just a matter of seeing how badly you can humiliate decent and stupid people.

So, I avoid the programming like I avoid the plague. No wait, I avoid it more than I would avoid the plague. It's irritating gibberish that even as a headline on a news feed, is infuriating. However, I saw such a headline regarding Tila Tequila's "Shot at Love" season finale that I just couldn't resist taking a look at. The results were enlightening and very thought provoking. I watched, I contemplated, I laughed and I cried.

Mostly I laughed. I laughed hard, very very hard. I laughed so much that it made my sides hurt. And when I lay upon the floor writhing in pain and suffocation.......I kept right on laughing.

For you ardent followers of this program (and what you guys are doing on this blog, I'll never know,) you know quite well the subject of my glee. For those that don't......have a gander, I'll wait.


Take your time, no rush.


You finished? Good, I'll continue...


HA HA HA! The celebrity got rejected by the unwashed masses! It's fucking classic! There is a god, oh lord I believe!!!! And I don't care how mean people thing I am, this is just desserts right here. Karma is doing it's goddamn job and at the very least, my sense of order in the universe is balanced.

And what of poor widdle Tila? Who the hell cares? In the painful act of watching the full length of this episode (okay most of the length, thank god for fast forward,) it becomes pretty clear that Tila is a bitch. She degrades people by putting them through these stupid ass challenges, gets their hopes up, then humiliates them when they're kicked off the program. Granted a lot of these people are nutjobs, and need to be handled with a bit of extreme prejudice. But it still doesn't incline my endearment to her. Frankly it makes her seem cocky and high maintenance. And I can get enough of that out here in the real world, thank you very much.

Besides, it's not like she's one of the decrepit masses, you know like the rest of us. She's fucking Tila Tequila. Her and the rest of her VH-1 mate seekers don't need this shit. They can walk into any bar in the country and get a piece of ass just by saying their name. If Bret Michaels so desired, he could walk into a country/western bar looking for a woman who would go down on him while juggling sparklers and farting the national anthem. And by night's end, the son of a bitch would probably get it. These are not people hurting in the potential mates department. This is a group of sculpted individuals who have gotten freaky with other people's mates in dressing rooms and back alleys. My pity for them is very much limited.

So, it fills me with a sense of glee to watch one of the chosen get slapped back down to earth. To find out that not everyone sees the pretty faces and fame, and comes running with arms open. Hearts are not commodities, and people like Tila seem to forget that they cannot be bought. Sure you may be able to tease them with tight outfits and large quantities of money, but you can't own them that way. She found it out the hard way, and oh happy day, it happened on camera for my viewing pleasure!

Of course, this thing may have been completely fixed, and this was just a stunt to make season 3 of Tila's "One" shot at love all that much more compelling. Still the image of a weeping Tequila perplexed at what went wrong is my personal little heaven today. Something that should be cherished before those bastards at VH-1 start applying the spin.