This is the Southern Belles....of Louisville...They have their own show on SoapNet, which shouldn't be all that impressive except that they've got farther with their narcissism than I have to date. I'm not entirely sure who's brainchild this was - to get ladies from a state that is referred to as the Ohio River Valley on the national news, call them Southern Belles, and watch them parade around the Derby City without the benefit of the Derby. If I was a young woman in Charleston or say...Savannah, I would be pissed. I would be upset if I were from Atlanta, but apparently they've already had their shot at whoredom with The Real Housewives of Atlanta so they lost out on this opportunity of a lifetime. I've only made it through 30 minutes of the first show, but basically it boils down to 3 things: money, boys, and shoes. There you go: I have just saved you from losing an hour of your life. Yes, sometimes I have been known to take one for the team. I'm sure Kellie, Hadley, Emily, and ...er..the other 2 girls are perfectly nice young ladies who, when given the opportunity, value the meaning of a dollar. I'm also sure that they are teaching these fine Kentucky men that nice guys really do finish last. And that's too bad because how many men (in Kentucky) do you know that would pay to rent out an entire ice skating rink for just one date with a blonde-haired, Dolce and Gabbana-clad beauty? OK...maybe several..even if it meant selling their John Deere. But the point is, they shouldn't be asked to sell their tractor because everyone knows his tractor's sexy - but you cannot mount one wearing Manolo Blahnik's. I will probably continue to watch this trainwreck because it's summer and the only other shoes..er...shows on my DVR are Burn Notice (Jeffrey Donovan may have the temper of a rottweiler but he's a damn fine actor) and So You Think You Can Dance (don't judge me - I have a non-gay crush on Mia Michaels). So, because you can't lay in the hammock and drink things with umbrellas all the time, I will come in for this. But I'm not expecting much more than lots of hair-tossing, an embarrassing amount of bling and a minimum of conversation involving Ralph Waldo Emerson or post-war Germany.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
And they call ME narcissitic...
This is the Southern Belles....of Louisville...They have their own show on SoapNet, which shouldn't be all that impressive except that they've got farther with their narcissism than I have to date. I'm not entirely sure who's brainchild this was - to get ladies from a state that is referred to as the Ohio River Valley on the national news, call them Southern Belles, and watch them parade around the Derby City without the benefit of the Derby. If I was a young woman in Charleston or say...Savannah, I would be pissed. I would be upset if I were from Atlanta, but apparently they've already had their shot at whoredom with The Real Housewives of Atlanta so they lost out on this opportunity of a lifetime. I've only made it through 30 minutes of the first show, but basically it boils down to 3 things: money, boys, and shoes. There you go: I have just saved you from losing an hour of your life. Yes, sometimes I have been known to take one for the team. I'm sure Kellie, Hadley, Emily, and ...er..the other 2 girls are perfectly nice young ladies who, when given the opportunity, value the meaning of a dollar. I'm also sure that they are teaching these fine Kentucky men that nice guys really do finish last. And that's too bad because how many men (in Kentucky) do you know that would pay to rent out an entire ice skating rink for just one date with a blonde-haired, Dolce and Gabbana-clad beauty? OK...maybe several..even if it meant selling their John Deere. But the point is, they shouldn't be asked to sell their tractor because everyone knows his tractor's sexy - but you cannot mount one wearing Manolo Blahnik's. I will probably continue to watch this trainwreck because it's summer and the only other shoes..er...shows on my DVR are Burn Notice (Jeffrey Donovan may have the temper of a rottweiler but he's a damn fine actor) and So You Think You Can Dance (don't judge me - I have a non-gay crush on Mia Michaels). So, because you can't lay in the hammock and drink things with umbrellas all the time, I will come in for this. But I'm not expecting much more than lots of hair-tossing, an embarrassing amount of bling and a minimum of conversation involving Ralph Waldo Emerson or post-war Germany.
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