Remember the days when you had to order your trash from a burger joint separately? You had to waste your precious time, that could be devoted to clogging your arteries, individually ordering your fat laden burger and fries and your diabeeeeeeetus inducing soda. You also had to have a conversation with a person that had more syllables in it than “gimme a number one”. It was tragic. Much like burger joints combine two or three trash elements for the sake of convenience, I have combined the trash elements in reality TV for the sake of humor. Well, I find it humorous. Let’s see what you think as I begin what I hope will be a series of TV Combo Meals. Order up!
Combo Meal #1
The cats from My Cat From Hell and the moms from Toddlers and Tiaras
Have you seen this show, My Cat From Hell? Whoa. So much to mock, so little time. First, there’s the self proclaimed Cat Whisperer, Cat Daddy. Cat Daddy is a most likely a single man. I mean, who would date a guy that keeps a guitar case full of cat toys around? He’s a mythical creature. It’s as if Nicholas Sparks had written a portly rockabilly gentlemen in as his leading man. This guy has heart, I tell ya. He just wants to get down to the crux of what’s bugging these poor, misunderstood kitties. He’ll even go so far as to burrow his entire hand into the litter box if need be. No, really, he will. He genuinely cares and I’m thinking he’s the only one who does because these cats are quite possibly literally from Hell. They scratch, bite, hiss. I think their heads spin a full 360 degrees. I saw one episode where the owners had to run and jump into their bed at night and huddle together in the middle of the mattress for fear that they would be attacked as they slept. It was insane. Of course our fearless leader, Cat Daddy, takes a few tricks from his magic guitar case and saves the day. Kitty’s demons are exorcised!
I don’t want the cats in their post devil phase, though. I need ‘em nice and scary, all sharp claws and drawing blood, because these cats are joining the moms of Toddlers and Tiaras. If you haven’t seen or heard of Toddlers and Tiaras then you are clearly living under a rock and I don’t know how you accessed this blog from your dark cave high in some remote mountainous region where WiFi doesn’t exist. Toddlers and Tiaras, where to begin? So you have these evil children that compete in beauty pageants. I’m sure you are asking yourself, how can she call children evil? Oh sister, they must of picked up the demons that Cat Daddy exorcised from My Cat From Hell. Well they didn’t, they just come from crazy pageant moms who seem to live vicariously through their children before they are old enough to discern that their parents are doing this to them. You gotta get ‘em when they are young I tell you!
One such mother, whose daughter is affectionately called (and I kid you not) Honey Boo Boo Child, is so hell bent on her daughter bringing home pageant trophies she feeds her child “Go Go Juice” (again I kid you not). Now this “Go Go Juice” is not something you can buy on store shelves. This is a homemade concoction of “caffeine drink and just a hint of an energy drink”. Boo Boo imbibes this because she gets “randown”, which sounds a whole lot more serious than being rundown. Honey can’t be more than 5 and I’m thinking the AAP does not condone the consumption of Go Go Juice. So just that right there justifies locking this mother in a closet with the cat that attacks its owners in bed. I’d most likely pour a little tuna juice on her shirt before I locked her in the closet to make thinks more interesting. If you haven’t sat down and watched Toddlers and Tiaras then I implore you to stop what you are doing right now (after you read the entirety of this blog and leave funny comments) and head over to the youtube, yes that’s THE youtube. Get some popcorn because you are going to be there for awhile, most likely shouting obscenities at the screen. Here’s a sample of Boo Boo’s crazy:
I hope you enjoyed my first installment of TV Combo Meals. Join me again, whenever I get inspired and have the time. Will our next meal be Cops with a side of Teen Mom? Perhaps Dance Moms and Fear Factor? One never knows.