I Love VH1, But I Can't Stand Daisy of Love
I love VH1 more than a drag queen loves heels. I will pretty much consume whatever reality lasagna they are serving for dinner any night of the week. Even shows I'm not really into (hello, I Love Money), can suck me in for at least 4 episodes on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Let's put it this way, if reality TV is heroin, then Cris Abrego is my dealer.
However, I feel like ol' Cris mixed a little powdered sugar into our latest exchange with Daisy of Love. I was perplexed over Bret's attraction to her during Rock of Love. I get that he likes girls with a little bleach in the hair and a dash of silicon on the chest, but that girl has had more work done than Melissa Rivers. There's nothing more frightening than seeing a woman with a plastic face try to cry. Except when that face is covered with enough whore paint to supply a Miss Texas beauty pageant.
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Don't get me started on those gangly things she calls arms. They seem like they're too long for her body and her shoulders don't allow them to rotate in a normal fashion. Unfortunately, she's one of those people who uses her hands a lot while speaking. This leads to some very awkward flailing about that makes me concerned for the safety of others around her.
I'm not completely shallow, you don't have to be naturally beautiful like Dr. Drew for me to give you an hour of my life each week. But during my short attempt to watch Daisy of Love, the worst parts were her commentary and interviews. She lacks the facial expressions of Flavor Flav, the pure goofiness of Real and Chance, and the ability to speak poetic crazy-talk like New York. There was nothing funny about her sidebars, her delivery was beyond cheesy, and I almost changed the channel to Room Raiders just to make the bad trip end.
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Cris knows the key element that makes these show disgustingly addictive is the charisma of its stars. Flavor Flav and Bret Michaels may give you the creeps while they're tonguing down girls half their ages, but their commentary (and by commentary, I mean "Wooooow" or "Hi-yo!) is simply entertaining. New York is an absolute lunatic, but there's something about her blatant insanity and her desperate need for constant attention that draws me in every time. Do I really want to see her on a knock-off of The Simple Life on her latest show, New York Goes to Work? The logical side of my brain says no. Will I watch every episode twice? Absolutely. Why? Dr. Drew taught me that addiction is a disease, and she's been supporting my habit since the original Flavor of Love. Our codependence is simply too difficult for me to break right now. Thanks, Celebrity Rehab!
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I originally thought I had finally reached my personal threshold for recycled ideas with Real Chance of Love, but those two were able to cast a spell on my DVR that forced me to tape their antics each week. Even my roommate thought they were hilarious, and he is insanely pretentious and thinks reality TV is a sign of the apocalypse.
My point here is that these characters have an inexplicable charisma that makes me gladly lose IQ points by watching every step of their quest to find booty...I mean "love." Daisy just makes me want to pluck my own eyelashes out one-by-one. I'm sure she's a lovely girl and has plenty of freaks who love her, but that doesn't mean I want to hang out with her while on my mental vacations during my escapist hours of television consumption.
To add insult to injury, the goons she's supposed to date have to be the biggest lineup of douche bags ever assembled. These are the guys who live in their mother's basements and hang out at the local 7-11 on the weekends. No thanks. If I wanted to surround myself with such miscreants, I wouldn't have left my classy hometown of Jacksonville, North Carolina where there are more tattoo parlors than the number of churches and schools combined.
All I'm sayin' is that Daisy, in my humble opinion, does not have the je ne sais quoi to carry her own show. Someone please put New York on Celebrity Apprentice so I can have something to watch during the requisite Daisy of Love marathons!
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