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September 08, 2009


If you read my previous post you might think I am nothing, if not a Sophisticate. So, why, you might ask, did I find myself getting sucked into "More to Love" aka the Tubby Bachelor on the Fox Network? I was lucky enough to tune in when our portly hero was deciding between his three zaftig finalists.  I will confess I was only half-watching. I had, once again, tried to my hardest to get sucked into "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" on TLC, but the most consistently exciting thing about that show is the title. That and the level of outrage I feel when the subjects describe the nausea, cramps, weight gain and mood swings they are experiencing, but somehow never thought to take a pregnancy test before ending up in the emergency room with a baby bursting out of their pants. I mean, I've not wanted to tell my BF stuff before for fear of disappointing him-- like the Chloe boots I bought last week that cost quite a few dollar signs, or maybe an inopportune bit of gas which I then pinned on a passerby (I know, the lowest of the low) but a BABY? Unfortunately this show never asks the question "How fucking crazy do you have to be to convince yourself a BABY is not GROWING inside of you?"

But let's back up to how unwanted babies get made in the first place..."More to Love". What stunned me about this show and grabbed my attention was not the particularly compelling drama, rather the lazy, second rate way the show was put together. At this point the format for these kinds of shows borders on the instinctual, so the only thing that's really left to enjoy are the concepts they wrap around them ("they" because I am 100) and how much drama they (again) can milk out of a moment. Absolutely no care went into mounting any suspense or creating that cheesy, romantic TV magic that the audience is gagging for. If there's one thing you can count on in these shows, it's a cliffhanger (sort of) or a tease (ish). This guy has narrowed it down to three girls, they ramp up to the elimination with the requisite confessionals and impending heartbreak score, and.... they don't even have the decency to cut to commercial? It was honestly as though the producers decided not to go the extra mile to build any tension because they thought these fat people would be too tired and hungry to even notice. Who needs drama when you can get the ring exchange over and all enjoy some snacks, am I right? They just bulldozed right through it. This would never happen to the skinny, electrifying trash bags on "Rock of Love". Even they are shown a modicum of respect when it comes to really working themselves up into an elimination tizzy. These women must have their moment! They must be afforded the same Bill of Rights as all the other trashy people on TV.

The only conceivable explanation is they were showing mercy on the poor Bachelor who was sweating through his suit. All of this took place on a patch of, like, a State Park, by the way. Something that was meant to stand in for a vista point at a nice hotel. And as this 7-10 minute segment rolled on, and the discarded bachelorette was dispatched to a limo that would whisk her off to a La Quinta Inn somewhere while she laid bare her poor, shattered soul one more time, the wistful departing last shot...I shit you not...is a helicopter shot of this limo in a traffic snake on a winding cliffside road being tailgated by a fucking Mercury Sable. All I'm saying is, if you're gonna do a show about how fat people need love too, you should probably treat them like people.