28th
NYC Prep
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
That’s what watching NYC Prep feels like. I’d rather get a root canal or let someone break my arm or clean a toilet or get my face pierced or get stung by a dozen bees.
Since I am never ever ever going to watch it again, I am not going to learn any of the putative human beings’ names.
All you need to know is that these wealthy New York teenagers are some of the most loathsome creatures I’ve ever witnessed, and I watch Dr. 90210. On purpose, for fun.
None of these worthless shits is ever going to amount to anything, except to become the lucky owner of a huge bank account.
While they aren’t all identical in their loathsomeness, they all are equally loathsome. Some are painfully correct and others quite open in their disdain for lesser beings, but all of them are creepy, sheltered, moneyed dorks. Some of them support causes, most of them don’t. Some of them are preppy, some dress the way they think artists (with money) are supposed to dress. Some of them are good looking, some are not. But they all suck. Hard.
It’s a lot like Real Housewives of New York City, except with much creepier sexual intrigue.
Much has already been said about the depths to which our popular culture will sink. If I were taking bets as to the measure of those depths, I’d wager on infinite. To be honest, it isn’t really the moral implications that keep me awake at night, but rather aesthetic considerations. Where is the entertainment value in so-called reality tv? If I want to gawk at badly behaved idiots, I’ll go to Taco Mac, thank you very much.
