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“Married by America” is the most riveting entertainment
ever caught on film, with the exeption, of course, of the
donkey scene in “Bachelor Party”, but that really
goes without saying. Fox has taken everything the American
people hold dear, namely love, romance, and blushing brides,
and combined it with the most wretched sins of eternal hell:
sleazy sex, tube tops, and over-tweezed eyebrows, to create
a spine tingling labyrinth of love, lust, and deceit that
has got to be the buzz of beauty parlors from coast to coast.
Throw in that “Bachelor Party” donkey and your prime
time evil fix is complete. Now THAT’S entertainment.
The sheer brilliance of this concept is enough to bring tears
to my eyes – mostly because I wish I would have thought
of it first. And why didn’t I, damn it? The formula is
so simple that even a cast member of the “Real World”
could have come up with it. First, take a bunch of single
losers who have never met. Then add delusions of grandeur,
backbiting, and the now requisite reality-television-larger-than-life-fake-boobs.
Next, have an audience pair these people up, throw them in
a house they could never afford, and turn on the cameras!
At the end of three weeks one of the five “engaged”
couples is going to be a)brave enough, b)stupid enough, or
c) just plain stoned enough to get married. FRICKEN ‘til-death-do-us-part-in-sickness-and-in-health-you-may-kiss-the-bride
MARRIED!
For most non-idiots the concept of marriage is intimidating,
to some of us it’s downright unfathomable, but its pretty
generally accepted that THE BIG “M” is nothing to
horse around with. After all, this is the relationship that’s
supposed to last a lifetime, unless of course you come home
from work early one day carrying two sacks of groceries and
a Victoria’s Secret bag containing a black baby-doll
nightie because you’re going to surprise your husband
with a romantic dinner and you find him boning the Roto Rooter
guy on your brand new, $500 Egyptian cotton sheets. But totally
hypothetical scenarios aside (NEVER happened, I swear - I’m
in counseling four days a week for something totally unrelated),
marriage has been and probably will be around for centuries.
It has spawned wars, inspired religions, and is a multibillion
dollar a year industry throughout the world.
And now . . . it’s a game show. Granted, nothing says
true love like whoring around with a complete stranger in
front of an audience of, well, at least hundreds of people,
for $100,000, a new car, and a house, but do we have to pretend
these total strangers are actually going to fall “in
love”? Is it necessary to culminate this emotional disaster-in-waiting
with legal nuptials? Doesn’t anyone at Fox remember The
Great Darva Conger Disaster??????
Well, maybe they do and that must be why they threw in counseling
sessions. Every week, our featured love bugs meet with three
relationship experts who not only evaluate each couple but
then CUT one out of the show. I love that part, and I can
guarantee you will, too. You want tears? You want drama? You
want to see some fake boobs bobbing up and down in frustration
and disappointment? Then for the love of God, DON’T MISS
THE THERAPY SESSIONS.
During next week’s two hour finale we will see the live
weddings of the two final couples. That may sound kind of
boring, and if that’s all there was then I would agree.
But the fun doesn’t end there – the really good
stuff comes after the wedding when the actual winning couple
is announced. Yep – they have to get married BEFORE they
find out if they get the cash, the car, and the house. Killer
twist, huh? This is going to be better than watching that
money grubbing bitch, Sar,a pretend she knew all along that
Evan was a lying sack of penniless crap the whole time she
was clawing and scratching her way to the winner’s circle
on Joe Millionaire. I’ll never forget the way her well-rehearsed
smile froze to her mask, I mean, her face, when he told her
he didn’t really have $50 million. That moment is right
up there in television history with the birth of Little Ricky
on “I Love Lucy” and the final episode of “M.A.S.H”.
Like I said earlier, this show is positively genius, and it
has inspired me to get off my lazy ass and create a reality
show of my own. Its still a little sketchy, but I’m thinking
it will involve large breasted women wearing really small
bikinis who live in a house with several smooth-chested, well
tanned ex-body builders. All the women except for one will
be convicted murderers and there will be a $1 million prize
but I’m not sure if that will be for the last surviving
man or for the woman with the best boob job. Anyway, I’m
thinking of calling it “Lady Killer”. Isn’t
that clever? “Lady Killer” – get it? Well,
hopefully the guys over at Fox will like it.
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