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The Church of Bob

I have had just about enough of Bob Guiney.

I have purposefully never watched The Bachelor precisely because I don't have any patience for the kind of person who believes they will find their soulmate courtesy of Michael Eisner or worse, believes that the world needs the personality they're selling. So I stay away from most dating shows (although sometimes Elimidate is just so bad I can't look away) lest I appear masochistic and cranky.

But this Bob guy will not go away.

I was in a bookstore over the weekend where his book was prominently displayed. It's called "What a Difference a Year Makes: How Life's Unexpected Setbacks Can Lead to Unexpected Joy." Apparently, it's a book on how to make the best of pimping oneself on TV, being the most frequent guest in one month on Oprah and making out with anything pushed towards him when the tapes were rollling. Thank god someone is finally talking about how rough that must be. What a brave, brave soul. Gee, I hope the reviews aren't mean to him.

And now? He has a CD. An infomercial for it came on BBC America (Strike two. Enough with the Bob and the Billy Mays commercials already!) and I had to stop mid chew in order to wrap my mind around it. A CD. Why? He's a reality show contestant, for christ's sake.

Maybe I am just not meant to be of this culture. Liza and Michael and Clay and Bob and Paris need to be locked in padded room with Pepsi Blue and Chili's Babyback ribs. And that room needs to be cemented up and shot into the sun. Sure, they may be nice people, but enough already. Not everyone is newsworthy. Not every stunt should be televised.

2:37 p.m. - 2003-11-24


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