Here’s what I think about Dancing With the Stars, a show that I’ve never watched but thoroughly judge with harsh and hateful eyes.

Dancing With the Stars, heretoforewith known as Solid Gold With Formerly Famous People (SGWFFP) is kinda crap. And you know it. Yes, even you, the ones who cry over uplifting dances featuring not-thin girls and not-able-to-hear ladies. Deep, deep down in your heavily sequined and feathered soul, you know the show is pretty crap. Just admit it. It’s ok. I won’t judge you.

Yes I will. Here’s why:

Exhibit A:

In a heartfelt, albeit awkward break in waltzing, Will from Will and Grace emotionally signs that he has to catch a quick phone call from his able-eared wife. Unable to understand his made-up sign language composed of Crips gang flashes, Curlfriend pretends to read an invisible book while waiting for his return. Pathetic.


Exhibit B:

Shirts? Optional. A beard so skinny you can connect the hairs with a fine-tipped Sharpie? Required.

Exhibit C:

If Mickey Rooney and Mark Hamill had a baby, it would be Mr. Awkwardly Bent shown here. If The Little Mermaid decided to inexplicably swathe/staple some extra yards of fabric onto her already butt ugly dress, just for the sake of offending the entire mermaid/merman community with her sheer tackiness, she’d be wearing this exact seafoamy monstrosity.

Exhibits D - I give up. Seriously.

Leather. Cumberbun. Lumberbun.

I’m assuming this dance involved an angry Latin/Pirate type man miming the act of driving angrily in a car that doesn’t have functioning turn signals, with a buxom wench tailing him nonchalantly. And she’s probably a cop. An overdramatic wench-cop.

The look in his eyes sums up my exact feelings for SGWFFP.

He should have known his over-theatrical, emasculating wails of love would fall on deaf ears. He should. have. known.