Just as men are required to love Family Guy and The Simpsons in order to qualify for a Man Card, women program their Tivos with a variety of horrifyingly awesome shows of their own. America's Next Top Model is required reading for anyone with a hoo-ha. Most of my friends learned everything they needed to know about posing from the Jays. (Although... Miss Jay, the bowl-cut was not your finest moment.) I myself am in the remedial posing class, as my pictures inevitably continue to involve multiple chins. Tyra would kick me to the curb fo' sho'!
As for me, Gossip Girl's got me under her spell. I followed Kristen Bell from the ah-mazingness that was Veronica Mars into the sex, lies, and plenty of videotape on the Upper East Side. (C'mon, you KNOW the Chuckster's got hidden cameras all over that den of sin he lives in!*)
If I were the mother of tweens, I would die. My kids would NEVER be allowed to watch that show, and I would do my best to keep that crap out of my household. Underage drinking, oversexed teens, skimpy clothes, and superficial babes would be my worst nightmare. However, since I am not - at this point in time - responsible for any angsty humans... I freakin' love it, and I'm not sorry. Blair and her crazy headwear... Little lost Nate... Chuck. Just Chuck. Mr. Victrola. Since I know Ed Westwick is actually two months shy of 22, I feel slightly less guilty for having a raging crush on Park Avenue's resident bad boy. Slightly.
And now, a haiku in honor of the guiltiest of guilty pleasures. Ahem.
Upper East texting
Why doth pace a gilded cage
Bluck sets my heart free
What's YOUR guilty pleasure?
*Wow, that rhyming sequence impresses even ME.
**Blair + Chuck + love = Bluck