I know I watch too much television. It's not something I'm proud of. Over the last few months, it's gotten worse. It all started this summer when I was on maternity leave. I was lonely and bored and well... bad things happened.

I caught a marathon of The Real Housewives of Orange County and all hell broke loose. From there I became addicted to all things reality, including but not limited to Beauty & The Geek, Maury, and even Little People Big World. Sad sad sad.

I hit an all time low when I started watching The Pick Up Artist on VH1. I need help people and only a steady diet of NPR can save me (side note: Bravo to This American Life for your wonderful translation into tv. You dumbed yourself down so even I can watch).

Can we please talk about The Pick Up Artist? Really. Seriously. I'm so confused, which is why I think I watched every single episode. It was even dvr'd. Yep. No lie.

My first problem with the show (other than the fact that I watch it) is the host Mystery. He's a self proclaimed master at picking up girls. That's cool, right? More power to him, I say. Except... I said that before I actually saw him. This guy takes cheesedick to a new level. I've swear to all that is vaginal when I say I have NO idea how any female speaks to him, let alone gives him their digits. No idea. The only mystery about Mystery is what scent of Summers Eve he smells like. He's more douche than a bag of vinegar with a plastic applicator. He makes my eyes itch with creepiness.

Never mind the fact that he's not that attractive. I can try to ignore his awful facial hair and eye make up. There's no way in hell I could ignore his Mr. Sensitive Ponytail hair, but it makes him easier to hate so I'm good. His attitude towards women is awful. His entire pick up process revolves around making girls feel even more insecure than they already are.


The second problem I had with the show (other than I watched it) was the contestants liberal use of wax. I like a smooth chest as much as the next girl (or do I? Sometimes hair is good and gives us something to hang on to) but suck that jive if your eyebrows are in better shape than mine. Seriously. Men shouldn't have Liza Minnelli eyebrows. Ever. Unless they are trying to be women and serve me martinis at Kit Kat Club.

Overall, I get it. I don't jive with what Mystery is selling because I'm not the kind of girl he's looking for. I don't have fake boobs or spray tan. I'm not "hot" by any means so that's probably why I don't get poor Mystery. Truth be told, he seems like the kind to wear socks with sandals, but who am I to judge? I can pretend I'm his kinda girl through the beauty of photoshop (thanks for your help with this Kike, I owe you) and hold on to the dream that maybe someday he'll stop me in a bar and ask me if I floss before or after I brush.

Now if Ira Glass hosted a dating show I'd hump my tv just for a chance to get his face near my girly girls, but that's an entirely different post for a different day.