Whitney surprises me to my dismay
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Up until a few days ago, I hated NBC’s raunchy multi-cam joint Whitney with a burning passion. Currently, I hate myself. Let me explain why.
This past weekend, I sat down and watched an episode. I had not previously seen the show, but none-the-less felt it was hogging a timeslot that otherwise could be Community‘s. Well, I’m terribly sad to report that you that I do not hate it. In fact, I thought it was decent.
Don’t get me wrong… Whitney, at what I assume was its best, cannot keep up with shows like Parks and Community at their worst. But, the fact that I didn’t hate it combined with the slight urge I had to see another episode was not good news.
What had I become? Did I like this kind of television now? What do I do with my life now?
The only thing I can do… watch the only other show I can loathe without having to see; Are You There, Chelsea? This was, quite simply, the best decision I have ever made.
The air was stale and laugh-less. Afterward, my eyes were sore due to the excessive eye-rolling. Its attitude towards drinking and DUIs is sickening. No part of this show is funny. Have you not seen it yet? Too bad, because I’m about to spoil the joke they were working toward all night:
“Just for the record, you pooped a little when you were pushing.”
Yes, sir. My faith in my own gag reflex has once again been restored.