gossip girl… for reals?
I watched an entire episode of Gossip Girl last week, without ever really meaning to.
It was a case of “oh, the TV is on and I haven’t been bothered to change the channel during the last 40 minutes, so I guess I may as well watch the last 15 or so. Oooh, pretty dress!”
It was easily enough followed, even without paying it full heed and even with absolutely no prior knowledge of the show beyond the fact it’s apparently based on a teen series of books. It was… not terrible.
Honestly? I can kinda see teh guilty pleasure appeal of it. Weird. My guilty pleasure TV viewing is usually limited to America’s Next Top Model (which is both more and less fun since Tyra’s complete break with reality) (oh, and you can shut it!), and copious Travel Channel/HGTV viewing at weekends (which makes me want to decorate, garden, and eat).
I’m a bit weirded out at myself for enjoying it. I’m even more weirded out that I’m considering adding it to my Netflix queue and catching up. I’ll refer to it as escapist fantasy if I do. Talk only about the shoes and clothes therein, and of course of the decline of the moral fibre amongst today’s spoilt rich kids. That’s the ticket. No words shall be spoken of any enjoyment that may possibly be had of this show. None!
I’ll have to intersperse it with The Wire (which I’ve yet to truly start; I know, I know) or Deadwood or something, I think. Pretend to maintain what little cynics cred I actually possess.
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