Real Housewives of New York -- Horrified Fascination

I like to think I am not a person who watches reality TV shows. Yet, I am a person who watches reality TV shows. I love to watch Project Runway, Top Chef, and the like. I also like to watch Flipping Out, because I think Jeff is a hoot. I even enjoy watching Toddlers & Tiaras, though for the train wreck factor -- these people live in trailers and shacks, yet they are paying thousands of dollars on gaudy dresses and flippers (fake teeth) and putting their child in completely inappropriate positions (pageant moms, I hate to tell you -- your daughters are not emulating ladies, they are emulating tacky people).

But Real Housewives -- oh, God, that is a seriously sick franchise. The Atlanta ladies I don't watch -- I simply am not interested in any of these characters and their graspy, inarticulate lives are more uncomfortable than they are entertaining to watch. The Orange County ladies are just spoiled and silly and adolescent, and the New Jersey ladies are tacky in that way that clothes in the Bloomingdale's catalogue are tacky -- it's redolent of a certain kind of Jersey mall feeling that I remember from the 1980s and 1990s but which I don't want to revisit.

But New York! Oh, bless their hearts -- they just don't know...

This show is the perfect illustration for the old adage that money can't buy class. These social climbing, ridiculous women make me want to squirm. Their pettiness, their pretensiousness -- it's all just twee.

The laughable Countess with her pretend show of manners and her utter lack of manners or anything interesting to say -- it's like she had too many white wines at lunch over the course of time and got pickled.. Polite people don't tell their friends how to behave! Especially when the Countess seems to believe that the rules of good taste and good manners apply to everyone but her. Oh, WAH -- so you're divorced. It doesn't sound as if you've been interested in anything but your ex-husband's title for quite a long time, so it can't be that big a surprise that all of a sudden he's dumped you. And no -- you aren't the Countess anymore.

So go find something else to rest your laurels on -- like maybe an accomplishment. And quit it with the accent: where are you from? The Midwest? So stop it with the 1930s movie school matron accent, already!

Ramona -- yikes. Get those eyes under control and get on some kind of medication that will slow you down. You can't just say what you want and expect people to accept it! And no, dear -- what you're doing is not making you look neutral. I just fast forward through you.

Bethenny -- quit being a victim! You've done amazing things! So what if Jill has to have an enemy? Let her be your enemy -- it really doesn't matter at all. She's no one you'll want to know in a few years.

Kelly -- are you really this dumb? Bra: would be good. Hemline: should be shorter. I think you could be a poster girl -- the poster girl for why drugs can be bad for you.

Jill -- what a train wreck you are. Tacky? Oh my God. You talk about other people's modeling abilities and throw in your own dress size for good measure? How transparent! Why didn't you just ask if you could model? I am certain that Alex would have let you model if she had known it would shut that big wide mouth of yours about the trashiness of her event! And this thing with Bethenny? Be happy for her success and shut up about your victimization. You were traveling and enjoying the summer, not sitting by your husband's bedside holding his hand and reading the Torah. So she didn't call? She made a mistake -- and she's what? 25 years younger than you? Any good Jewish mother would forgive and forget -- and not let the Countess fuel the fire and interfere in your friendships. I guess now that Luanne doesn't have a good steady source of income she needs to isolate you to ensure her place in your small, insignificant sliver of New York society (by society, I mean ability to get a table at some restaurants).

Stop it with the hair extensions. You are mutton dressed as lamb. And your apartment! Who lets their walker decorate their houses? Ewwww....

Alex -- who knew -- you with your dotty husband -- you are the only one that anyone can relate to...

British Woman Gets Migraine with Bonus Chinese Accent

Ancient Chinese Secret!

From FOX News:

Any migraine sufferer will tell you that the headache pain can be unbearable. After suffering a migraine so intense it changed her voice, a 35-year-old British woman is describing the pain with a Chinese accent.

Sarah Colwill commonly suffers from migraines, but when an extreme headache caused her to call an ambulance last month, (she) woke up in the hospital with an accent sounding more like someone who grew up in China rather than England, the Daily Mail reported.

Her new Chinese accent has made her voice unrecognizable to family and friends.

“I have had my friends hanging up on me because they think I'm a hoax caller,” she said. “I speak in a much higher tone now, my voice is all squeaky.”

Colwill was diagnosed with Foreign Accent Syndrome, a rare condition that damages a part of the brain that controls speech and word configuration. She is currently undergoing speech therapy, but doctors are unsure her natural voice will ever return.

Really? Foriegn Accent Syndrome? This is an actual condition?

Now, I have a friend who gets a little drunk and starts to speak with an English accent. By the way, just to indicate that this is not a cross-cultural issue, my friend is not Chinese.

Who gets sued for this?

Tiger Woods - What's the Issue?

I was listening to a talk show host rant and rant about how he and some of his friends had hoped that Tiger Woods would lose the Masters. The idea is that because Tiger is such a miserable human being, he should lose in whatever he does, and that will be justice.

I have to say, my thoughts are a little different. I don't really care if Tiger wins the Masters. He plays golf; it's what he does to make his living, and apparently, he's not so bad at it.

As an aside, I must also point out that I live in a house of golfers (not me) and I have never been a Tiger Woods fan. There has always been, in my eyes, a smarminess and a smugness to Tiger that has been unattractive at best, off-putting at worst -- I just thought he was kind of a dick.

And I have never once in my life called anyone a dick until this moment. It's just that I prefer to write with the utmost precision, and "dick" is the best word in any language to describe Tiger Woods. Think about it.

So, Tiger has his problems now and everyone knows that he is, in fact, a dick. And still, I don't really care whether or not he wins the Masters.

The thing that I will say: I will never buy a piece of merchandise with Tiger Woods' name on it. Not a pair of shoes, a golf ball, or a Slurpee. I have kids, and Tiger Woods is simply not the guy I want them to emulate. He can win the Masters as much as he wants, or can. In his lifetime, however, I don't see him reaching the heights of his earlier career in golf, and why would I pay to honor the name of some has-been sex addict who also happens to be a liar and a philanderer and who had so little regard for his own children? Why would I pay anything into the coffers of a guy who would treat his kids so badly?

Nike can continue its sponsorship of Tiger. That's fine. Stupid people may buy some Tiger socks -- but never again, I'll bet, for what they once paid.

And that's a big shame for Nike, which, as a corporation with shareholders, should be ashamed of itself. How foolish of Nike to put all of its golf eggs in Tiger's very unreliable basket.