Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Decent into Darkness.

 It has Begun. The social experiment that is my foray into the world of the TV show that is Sex and the City. I have completed the neurotic fluff that is season one of what I can only describe as the worst TV show I have ever had the misfortune of watching. There is nothing there, no redeeming features not one stand out episode, nothing.

     Season one of this shit parade is short and swift. We are introduced to the main Cunt of the piece one Carrie Bradshaw , ironically in a Ferris Bueller style first episode (SJP is married to Matthew Broderick for those not in the know) now if the rest of the series had kept this format and ran with it I reckon it would've been more bearable but sadly no. Episode numero dos slithers into view and its the format that I have witnessed before on the rare occasion when I walked in on my Wife Irene watching the odd episode. Three friends obsessing over the fact if they will ever be worth the attention of the Perfect man While somebody who resembles Kim Cattrall's Grandmother tells them to cop the fuck on and just grow a pair of balls and just fuck everything like a guy. Now I know I am not the demographic for this show, I get it I am a man...hear me roar with my endless lack of knowledge regarding the female psyche ….but hang on one second, I've met real life honest to goodness women , I am married to one after all and none , not a one acts or goes on like these four sex crazed neurotic psycho hose beasts in this show.

    During season one Carrie is dating a successful business man of Donald Trump like proportions , and after only two dates she turns up on his doorstep at some ungodly hour pissed as a horse fart demanding to know that he is in it for the long haul!?...seriously ? after two dates .....Is this how real women go on ? . If this had happened t o myself at any stage of my life I would've done one of two things, A) told the girl to fuck right off or 2) FUCK RIGHT OFF!  So the season staggers along through neurosis after neurosis following this self important clothes horse on numerous "adventures" passing itself off as a smart and funny TV show for the sassy Woman of the age while all the time she is just pinning for an answer to whether or not she will end up with Mr right or Big or whatever and raise a gaggle of big nosed horse faced children so she can justify her pointless existence.

Now My lovely Wife pointed out that the four main "Ladies" in the show are meant to represent the four sides to every Woman, The Neurotic side(Carrie) the Logical Side (Miranda) the Romantic side (Charlotte) and the Slutty side (Samantha). That's fair enough and would probably work if each of the individual characters weren't just down right annoying and idiotically written. The overall plot arc of season one is basically Carries inability to just chill the fuck out with regards to her relationship with an uber rich dude that right up until the end of the season is the most patient motherfucker I have ever seen grace the TV screens. He puts up with constant questioning and badgering about where its all going. by the end of the first season she does what every man fucking despises and gives him an ultimatum. He either tells her that he is in it for the long haul or else she isn't going away on this luxurious holiday that he has paid for in advance with his money so he could whisk her away and be romantic and loving, and The Dude like a fucking boss just looks at her gets into his chauffeur driven car and goes without her , Mr Big The Fucking Hero of this show...SCENE.

Roll on season two , and if none of these bed hoping slutbags doesn't contract some sort of STD soon I'm going to scream bullshit from the highest rooftop

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