If it’s one thing I’ve finally figured out it’s the fact that I love watching shows like Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Salt-n-Pepa or Intervention with Candy “Bing Bang” Finnegan (no idea) because not only is it insanely entertaining, but I use it like a measuring stick to watch these people in action and then justify to myself ‘Oh I’m not that bad” but let’s face it if there was ever a camera on me during my shenanigans on a weekend (or Thursday…or random Tuesday) I’m sure I’d be singing a different tune. Perhaps that tune would be “Brick House.” One may never know.
Anyway I happened to catch the first 2-hour (ugh) crapisode of the new season of Celebrity Rehab with Dr Drew and his “Weeble’s Wobble But They Won’t Fall Down” hair. I thought about recapping it, but the first episode is usually the worst because we’re just getting to know the new “patients” and, well, it’s pretty sad. Actually, it’s not that sad but I’m a big believer in the Karma Police so I’m walking on a pretty thin tight rope just writing this recap.
You have your standard cast of characters, like Janice Dickinson who (as we’ve been hearing for years) was physically and sexually abused growing up. Surprisingly, I won’t joke about that. However, I won’t act shocked when we learn she’s still allergic to “the drink” and prescription pills. And, I won’t even comment on the scene they kept showing over and over and over again when Janice can barely speak and says that she wanted to hang herself in her bathroom and wants to go to the emergency room. I believe the soundbite loop was “I…I….I. arrrrghhhhhhhhhhh!” Oh, I guess I did comment on it. I’m ducking the Karma Police as we speak.
Also in attendance is that fat kid who was the brother of the kid who used to date Paris Hilton and would always call Lindsay Lohan “firecrotch” to the paparazzi. I can’t remember his name, nor should you, since he hasn’t done anything in life to earn his “family money” or get himself on TV. Therefore we shall only refer to him now as “Meatball Kardashian.” Meatball Kardashian is teeing off on Janice this whole time and making very lame lay-up jokes about her plastic surgery. Yawn. Also, take a bath…especially after he just woke up in the middle of the night, turned over and vomited over the side of his bed onto the floor…and then just drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
Then you have Eric Roberts, who in the late 70’s and 80’s was addicted to coke and other drugs, but got himself clean and now just smokes pot every day. When asked how much he thinks he smokes daily he responds by saying half-a-joint and possibly up to 1 joint per day. Really? Do you need this show? Basically you’re just embarrassing your sister and your daughter at this point. Next.
Later, to make sure that The Hills never fully exits my life, enter Jason Wahler or “J Wahl” as somebody once called him….possibly himself. J Wahl likes the booze and gets arrested on the regular. However, even more disastrous to the public is the fact that Jason is responsible for Lauren Conrad forever being know as “the girl who never went to Paris.” Ah, weren’t those simpler times? I miss them.
Just when we’re literally grasping at the last possible “celebrity straw” we get to relive the pointlessness that is Rachel Uchitel. What a real treat she is. Once again, banging your brains out will eventually get you on a TV show. It starts with 16 & Pregnant, quickly moves to Teen Mom and then eventually you’ll cross over to an older audience of VH1 and a rehab show. Why don’t they teach this in school to young girls? It should be in addition to Home Economics. Oh, and you want to know what Rachel is addicted to? If you guessed meth, booze, pills, sex, heroin, or gambling you wouldn’t even be close. Rachel is addicted to love. Yes, love. Love. She loves too much. Seriously, she should have gone the whore-route. Rachel is afraid that the others in the group are going to view her as less than worthy because her addiction isn’t the norm. Dr. Drew assures her that the group won’t think that…but he never assured her that the American public wouldn’t think that and, spoiler alert, we do.
Finally, our unsung hero of this show and quite possibly the entire season is Frankie Lons. Who is Frankie Lons you ask? I know, I did too. I still kind of am. Apparently Frankie is the daughter of Keyshia Cole. If you’re wondering who Keyshia Cole is, don’t even worry about it. It’s not necessary to know. All that you need to know is that Frankie Lons is a filthy hot mess and should get more airtime on this horse dump catcher of a television show.
Frankie loves the booze and she loves loves loves going out into the Hollywood nightlife to party her weave off. She claims she’s tired all day, but when the sun goes down she is reborn and ready to party it out. She drinks in public spaces (like a parking lot and then just tosses the empty “plastic” bottle of vodka) and she “freak dances” when she gets to “da club.” She “freak dances” until she’s forced to sit on the stairs with her head in her hands ready to pass out. I have to admit, I love watching the home videos of the addicts in action. I wish more than 30 minutes of the show was just their home videos. Anyway, Frankie Lons has been in jail for a combined total of 25 years and used to be a prostitute. Ding! Ding! Ding! I’ve officially found my favorite character yet.
Poor Frankie is ready to literally “Bugs Bunny cutout” through the wall after not drinking for 2 hours. Is it wrong that I shouted at my TV “just one won’t hurt!” She couldn’t care less about people who haven’t had a drink for 10 years because she’s more in awe of those who haven’t picked up a drink in the last 47 seconds. I kind of am too.
In the end, Frankie is trying to find any excuse to bust out of “the ‘hab” even freaking the F out when she sees the security cameras and realizes that people are watching her every move including when she gets dressed and undressed. This really freaks her out because, yes, the production crew I’m sure are drooling over her while she slips off her granny panties and puts on her polyester track suit. Yum.
I may have to watch just because of my new found love of Frankie Lons. She is a real treat and soon to be national treasure, although she already is to me. It takes little to impress.