Honey Boo Boo

Are you like me? Do you hate the phrase "white trash?" Ugh, it makes me cringe every time I hear someone utter it. We are obviously never going to achieve racial harmony until all the races stop demeaning one another. Plus, the implications in the word about class need to hit the scrap heap of history. True, the recent Honey Boo Boo scandal makes me pessimistic about the future of the human race, but maybe not for the reasons you think.

There is nothing about foolish choices that has to do with class. See: John Grisham. See: George W. Bush. See: Michael Jackson. Foolish choices happen because we're human, all of us. I can put myself in Mama June's shoes, I can see why she perhaps thought she had no other option open to her other than the vile man from her past. I can be horrified by her choice to resume dating him, but I can't pretend to be her superior in terms of morality, as I've made some pretty epically dumb moves in my day. (Including my recent wise decision to get involved with a "straight" man with a girlfriend, which I'm praying doesn't cause Jesus himself to throw me into the lake of fire). I can't so much sympathize with the Mama Junes of the world as empathize with them, you know?

I wonder why I know the names "Honey Boo Boo" and "Mama June" in the first place? I am a 41-year-old man who only watches perhaps a half-hour of television a day. (But a crucial half-hour! right at the twilight between laying in bed and having the Trazadone kick in). When I told my therapist recently that my psyche is being rocked by the sheer volume of television shows out there and available for my consumption, she suggested I blog about it. I hate it that she's discovered my blog! :( What's on here is automatic writing, stream of consciousness thinking in a zone of safety and whimsy, and certainly nothing that analyzation would limn.

Today when I go to the CVS to make my sometimes-alarmingly urgent self-beautification purchases, I gaze upon the magazines displayed near the counter and wonder at the "celebrities" depicted on the covers of US Weekly, People, and their ilk. "Kris rocked by paternity scandal." "Kate locked in bitter alimony struggle." Who are these f**king people? And is America really that familiar with them that they can now be identified by first name only? Where are all these networks found on the dial? Who knows the channel numbers for HGTV, Lifetime, VH-1, TLC, etc.? I believe the only reality tv I've ever watched was the first couple of seasons of "The Real World" and the entire run of "Breaking Up With Shannon Doherty."

Tonight I am really excited to stay home and clean my apartment, and it's a Friday night (live it up, Gregory). I'd lost my laundry card, and thus I am wearing my black tank top (this is as "white trash" as my look gets). That's what I was reduced to this week, wearing things I never wear, out of necessity. Tonight I found it, and have already laundered my rock tees, my sexy briefs, my deceptive polos. I can only speculate on what Mama June is wearing, but I'm sure that whatever it is, it is very little.