So, on last night’s episode of the Real World, Joey finally left the house. I guess he realized that perhaps an environment dedicated to the consumption of free alcohol was not the best place to live right when you get out of rehab. Did we really need a whole hour to get to that point? I guess they really wanted us to struggle right along with him, because I felt his pain. Me, too, Joey, I’ve never wanted a drink more in my life.
Brianna wants to work on her singing career, so she goes out to Hollywood Street and sings and at one point a guy goes “what is this?” Best question of all time. That man should get his own show. He could just walk around and ask that of so many people. “What is this?” Brianna’s answer was “Just trying to make it.” Sure. Remember when Beyonce dressed in short shorts and sang the star spangled banner for fanny-pack wearing tourists in direct competition with a guy two feet away from her wearing a Spider-Man outfit signing autographs?
The highlight of the episode was when Joey had headshots taken. I guess because when he left the house to go back to Chicago for a year-long rehab program he wanted something to give to the producers. The producers of rehab?
Looking good, Joey. You’re totally gonna land the Bugle Boy account.
Actually, I lied. The highlight of the episode was when Joey read his goodbye letter to his housemates. It’s too long to post here (for LEGAL REASONS), but most importantly I don’t actually think it’s fair to make fun of someone for being heartfelt and honest about their struggles with sobriety. I support Joey in his battle with drugs and alcohol, even if the parts in his letter where he said “I would walk into the house and demand that everyone give me cocaine” and addressed alcohol personally with the line “we’ll see what you do when the 12 steps run wild on you” made me laugh so hard that tequila shot out of my nose.
God, this show. The Real World is supposedly only an hour long, but every week after watching the latest episode my fingernails look like this:
Next week: a new roommate shows up and promises to do nothing to alleviate the turgid boredom of this serialized nightmare.