The Ring Didn't Mean a Thing

I remember when Kim Kardashian tweeted something like, "I'm finally complete, I found the one!" And I thought, that's not good -- her thinking that she needed a man to complete her. I also remember her publicly admitting that as her 30th birthday was fast approaching, she was reminded of the dream she had as a child that she would be a wife and mother by the time she reached that age. Red flag, red flag, may day, may day! How did no one see these warning signs? A televised fairytale wedding, a reported 17 million dollars, and 72 days later, Kim wants a divorce from Kris Humphries, but anyone who watched the episodes leading up to the nuptials should have seen it coming. This is why I have to wonder how Kim herself did not. When you don't appreciate or respect the place where your man hails from, when he basically tells you that your career is a joke and you don't really "work". When your family has to force a smile whenever the idea of the two of you manifests, whether in conversation or in the physical. When you yourself have to a force a smile after awhile... need I go on? And now Kim is crying to her fans and her mother is pleading to the media, begging us to believe that her family is going through a crisis. Yes, it must be so hard on all of them. (Insert sarcastic face here.) I don't blame the critics who've rallied for Kim to donate her money and gifts to charity. It's laughable that the Kardashians want me to believe that she didn't make a dime off of that wedding and that she actually paid for it herself, as if I'm not smart enough to know that when you film a reality television series -- no matter how much money you have -- the majority of the pretty, shiny things we see have been donated for product recognition. Her marriage may not have been a sham, but her reason for wanting to tie the knot and then film it for us all to see is insult enough. In summation, we need not complain when they air the 2-part Kardashian divorce special, the show must go on after all, and it will... as long as we keep wanting to keep up with them.

Fighting for Love and Hip Hop

The lovers of hip hop's leading men took center stage and tried hard not to disappoint. Jim Jones' wonderwoman, Chrissy, is still childless and ringless but not hopeless or down and out. Ousted singer Olivia is looking low as she searches for a record label to believe in her. Emily finally found the "strength" to leave a one-sided relationship, and rapper Somaya is fiesty and fuming, trying to light the same fire since last season left her with no spark. Enter Yandi, Jim Jones' manager and Kimbella, "woman of Juelz Santana", if you let her tell it, and we have the very first episode for season 2 of Love and Hip Hop. I have to admit I can't get Jim Jones' mother's song out of my head. Nancy Jones penned the catchy single, "Psychotic B*tch" in response to Chrissy's description of her last season. The beat makes you bounce and the lyrics are hilarious. Chrissy and Jimmy were not too pleased to find the recording on the internet, but I can't stop singing it and think it could be a hit. Yandi inches her way into the ladies' circle by inviting Chrissy to her product launch. Chrissy brings Em and Liv and they all get to meet Kimbella for the first time. She was dressed in a pair of exaggerated booty shorts (the kind where you can actually see the booty) and you can't blame Chrissy and the girls for not being too impressed. Even though Kimbella seems proud to claim Juelz as her man and the father of her child, it was at this time that she shares a secret with Yandi: she dated Emily's now ex, Fabolous, just three short years ago.(Side note: Emily and Fab's son is just three years old.) Later in the week, Emily has a get together to celebrate her new found freedom, and all cast members are in tow. As they raise their glasses to the start of a new life, Kimbella decides this would be the best opportunity for her to confess her past with Fab to Emily in front of everyone, claiming she would rather she found out from her than from anybody else. Emily is clearly pretending to be at peace with the news and just as she was about to toast to letting go and moving on, Chrissy blows up and let's it be known that what Kimbella had said and done was inappropriate and down right mean. (And I agree.) For those of you Basketball Wives fans, can we say Evelyn and Tami? Things get heated and Chrissy ends up attacking Kimbella throwing blows like a champ and rocking the hotel suite. So you see dear, sweet, pretty Kimbella, your looks might hold some weight when you're tanning on the beach in Miami, but they won't get you anywhere when you get off the sand and swim in a sea of New York City sharks. I'm not condoning violence, but I'm definitely not feeling the whole "I dated your man and I'm telling you because I love you" thing either. And if someone could please explain to some of these chicks that "dating" is dinner and movies and not hotel rooms and bottles of Ciroc. See you next week.

Touch Me, Teach Me?

Had Glee asked me if I wanted them to provide my children with a teachable moment about losing their virginity in high school, I would have politely said thanks, but no thanks. Of course,  no such question is ever asked as sex and more sex is constantly crammed into the minds of young America and parents are left scrambling to find something "decent" on TV for their kids to watch before the wee hour of 9:00 pm. This is not MTV's 16 and Pregnant, this is not VH1's "Rock of Love", these characters on Glee are merely social outcasts or popular kids, choir junkies or super-jocks singing their way through four years of high school. You expect to see bedroom scenes on these types of programs, knowing they will  leave nothing to the imagination. Most wouldn't allow their pre-teen to get comfy on the couch and settle in for a Jersey Shore marathon, but Glee? It's hard enough to find a sitcom series on the Disney Channel that doesn't make me cringe, et tu, Glee? The creators of the popular program boasted about the "teachable moment" which featured two teen couples --one gay and one straight -- having sex for the first time. Talk about a double whammy. Now some parent out there has to figure out how to explain pre-marital sex and homosexuality all in one night. Thank you, Glee. That is, thanks, but no thanks. It's my job to teach my children about the pressures of high school and sexual preparedness. Why can't I, for just one night a week, turn on the television and not be confronted with frivolous fornication and instead get lost in an old Madonna throwback or a Lady Gaga remake? And for those who see this from the other side and want to reply by saying, "If you don't like it, turn off the TV." Don't you worry, I already have.