Angelina and I are hooked on reality TV. It makes sense -- I've always liked non-fiction more than fiction. It just seems like real life is so much more interesting than anything the human mind can conjure up. We like "Kathy Griffin -- My Life on the "D" List", "King of Cars", "Growing Up Gotti" and "The Real World", just to name a few. That's why I get upset when I see reality TV that isn't real. Several of the shows in this genre are frauds, because the stories are contrived and manipulated. There isn't any reality in many of these so-called reality shows. "The Girls Next Door", the story surrounding Playboy magazine founder Hugh Hefner's relationship with his three "girlfriends" -- Holly, Bridget and Kendra -- is a prime example of phony reality television. Hefner must have final say about anything that goes into the finished product, because this debacle is essentially a series of public relations videos for Hef. We see the girls hanging out with celebrities and assorted hangers-on at the mansion, running around in lingerie and skimpy oufits, doing photo shoots, going to parties and pretty much fawning over this rickety old man. You just know they're leaving out all the really good stuff. You mean to tell me that there aren't any catfights amongst three girlfriends? No animosity or jealousy? Does he actually sleep with these girls? (You don't have to show us, Hef -- just wink if you are!) And surely these beautiful young women have considered cheating on this old dood at least more than once. I hate unreal reality TV. This show smells, and it's not the girls' bath gel I'm referring to. "The Girls Next Door" is a bad home movie for Hugh Hefner. He should be watching it in his pajamas in the mansion's movie room for his and his friends' enjoyment only. The public should be spared this kind of drivel.
No comments:
Post a Comment