I’ve Become “That” Woman

Holy cats, y’all, I realized yesterday that despite my best efforts I have become “that” woman. And by “that” I mean someone that yells at the television. I know, right? I mean, they don’t listen to me anyway, so why waste time yelling? (I’d just like to point out that numerous sports teams would have won games if they’d just listened to me when I yelled at them through the television, but nooo. They just kept running three downs and punting.)

Seriously, I was just sitting there watching re-runs of NCIS (the good ones when Ziva and Tony and Ducky were on it) and the commercials came on. They ran two ads for some prescription something-or-others back to back, and I had to snort at the “Look what a helpful drug this is! Now, here’s 90 seconds of the ways it will kill you” script. And when they finished with that spiel, they ended with that trite “If you can’t afford your drugs, this big-ass drug company may be able to help.” And so help me God I actually yelled at the television, “You can help by not charging seven hundred dollars a month for a drug it costs you twenty-six cents to manufacture!”

But, honestly, I totally think we could do without prescription medication advertising. I mean, over half of them haven’t been tested correctly and will end up being the focus of a class-action lawsuit advertised on late-night television. “Have you or a loved one died from taking this drug? Call the law offices of Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe today.” These ads not only intrude on our entertainment (or what passes for entertainment today) but they kill trees, too. Yes, perfectly good trees die every day so drug manufacturers can run ads in magazines that take up four to five pages depending on the severity of the pain you’ll be in while the drug kills you. And men who can’t get it up are all ending up in a bathtub separate from their women! Uh, guys? You’re doing it wrong. Yeah, let’s make drug advertising illegal again before pot is legalized everywhere and those ads start, too. “Hi, this is Cheech Marin. Feeling a little stressed out?” Because they don’t have to advertise that stuff. It’ll sell on its own merits, right?

Anyway, once I’d thought that through I was in the frame of mind to think of other things we could do without, things that add nothing to the goodness of our world and make it, in fact, a worse place. (I was also not in the frame of mind to unload the dishwasher, so thinking about things to get rid of was infinitely better.) So here’s my list of things to abolish post haste.

Reality TV. I abhor reality television. All it’s given us is the Kardashians, glorified unwed teenage mothers, Honey Boo Boo, bachelors sleeping with dozens of women who swear they hate guys who sleep with dozens of women before proposing to one of them and then calling off the engagement two months later and acting all surprised it ended, “housewives” who aren’t even married to the rich sugar daddies they started out with, failed rappers and their baby mama drama, and the Kardashians. (Yes, I mentioned them twice, but they’re the worst of the worst, useless people who shouldn’t have ever been known outside their own little pathetic circle of losers.) As a matter of fact, let’s just go ahead and abolish…

Cable TV. You know, cable TV used to be okay when it aired movies only or things like Leonard Nimoy’s “In Search Of…” But now it’s all “original content” which is mostly crap. Seriously, Netflix is now producing television series? It’s Netflix. It’s just supposed to serve up movies and that’s it. And all those cooking and home & garden shows? Gone, baby. Now it’s all competition all the time: cupcake wars, cookie wars, Chopped, Nightmare Kitchen (or whatever the hell it’s called), the next [insert name of struggling cable network here] “star,” Brother vs. Brother, etc. etc. etc. Why does everything have to be a competition? Can’t y’all just let Ree Drummond make a pot of chili? No wonder Chip and Joanna Gaines bailed on HGTV. Ten to one the network proposed a “Chip vs. Joanna” show. And don’t even get me started on cable news shows. Kill all of those with fire. Now. I’ll light the match for you.

 

Any video game not played on the first basic Nintendo machine. Too many kids killing whores and stealing cars for “points” instead of building treehouses and catching lightning bugs or playing Barbies or reading books. Children should be allowed to be children instead of pretending to be felons.

Any app that lets kids hide from their parents the fact that they’ve sent nude photos of themselves to someone (which is a felony, by the way) or have been communicating with a stranger who is urging them to meet up somewhere. A painful death to anyone who creates an app like that.

 

Twitter. It’s where pure, unadulterated hate lives.

And that was just what I came up with in the first five seconds! Actually, getting rid of all that would be really nice (along with the word empower, which I forgot to add to the list. It’s overused and sounds idiotic. It needs to get off my lawn.) Go back to three channels on television so kids get bored with it and go outside to play. Make a lot of the internet harder to access so our brains aren’t so overstimulated all the time that parents forget their baby is in the car. Have people go to the library to look things up in actual books so they can form their own opinion. And make any Kardashian anywhere illegal. Please make the Kardashians illegal.

Oh, and please someone invent a self-loading and unloading dishwasher. Thank you.

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One Response to I’ve Become “That” Woman

  1. Debi Matlack says:

    Okay, Netflix is my life and two shows that are original to Netflix are among my favorites. Longmire (which Netflix graciously resurrected for three more seasons after A&E decided the mature, more intelligent demographic didn’t buy enough crap from the advertising to justify continuing a smart, character-driven police drama/Western that’s still not like anything I’ve ever seen before, and Stranger Things. It takes The Goonies, The Sandlot, Stand By Me, and several more awesome stories and plops it right down in the Eighties, complete with Dig-Dug in the arcade (remember arcades?), Dungeons and Dragons in the basement, a secret facility that is passed off to the good people of Hawkins, Indiana as a power company, and multiple nods to almost every sci-fi alien movie ever made, and is still, at its core, touching, funny, nostalgic and scary as shit.

    But the rest of that shit, yeah, I’m with you.

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