Sans the money and fame associated with it, a face like Flava Flav’s would never genuinely attract a beautiful, exotic woman like Hoopz, or a curvaceous ass of a woman (yes, she is more ass than woman) like Deelishuz. Approaching the premiere of Flavor of Love 3, it becomes apparent that reality television has become the farthest thing from reality possible. Bret Michaels’ beer belly and New York’s monkey mouth are atrocious, and yet they yield thousands of hopeful suitors and suitorettes? America’s Next Top Model and American Idol have yielded season after season of lowgrade TV personalities and one-hit semi-wonders. Yoanna House, Jordin Sparks, Taylor Hicks, and Nicole Linkletter are just names that gage a slight sense of familiarity at best. Reality television is like a sport. It keeps us entertained, but ultimately leaves us unfulfilled. Somebody wins, a lot more people lose, and it sort of doesn't matter either way.
These pseudo-celebrities eat rats, live in houses full of strangers, design clothes, complete in meaningless challenges, and receive fifteen more minutes of fame than Joe Schmoe next door does. They are the Joe and Jane Schmoes of Hollywood - and that's stretching it. Flava Flav was on The Surreal Life, New York was on Flavor of Love 1 and 2, Buddha was on I Love New York 2, and Buddha was on Hell Date. The same bitch that won Beauty and the Geek 2 is on Rock of Love 2. There's a Real World, a Road Rules, and a couple of shows that mesh the seasons and shows together into a fine paste of repetetive nothingness (hello Gauntlet). What type of "reality" consists of a rotation of the same characters, playing different roles (would your father put on a wig and also play the role of your aunt?). On TV, a person can find love through "Blind" dates, "Hell" Dates, "Elimi"dates, "Next" dates, "Parental Control" dates, and the list continues. If reality TV is supposed to mimic reality, as the name entails, where does the discrepency lie? Reality is never wrong, so is the conclusion then not obvious?...
