Maury for me is like a car wreck on the side of the road. You know you shouldn't look, that you should avert your eyes and keep moving forward. But I can't. I stop, stare, put my car in park, get out and go stare at the carnage and then laugh, point and yell. I know I shouldn't. I know I will get absolutely no personal enrichment out of watching, I'm not a better person because of it.
I really wanted to do a post about how Maury shows the worst in all of us, and how we're exploiting the poor, unfortunate loose women that keep coming back, time and time and time and time and time (etc) again to do the run of shame. But I don't have it in me. Because that would be the most hypocritical post I could ever write.
So instead you get this... when I watch Maury, I wonder:
Have I ever been THIS happy? Like in life? Ever? And if I was this happy did I have the energy to do all of this?
Have I ever put this much effort into an "I told you so?"
Have I ever had this much fun at work?
Do my lips wiggle like that when I say no?
Did she give herself "Shaken Baby Syndrome?"
When she got the call that she was going to be on Maury, did she think "Let me comb my hair except for this peice right in the front?"
For the record, this is totally my happy dance