Taradise Found!

FINALLY!

I meant to post this last week, but let's just say that this show had me dumbfounded until this very moment. It took a week to process the experience of the first episode. The show? Wild On Tara, of course. It would be an understatement to say I was looking forward to seeing this show. Saying that is on par with saying something like "My hair was on fire, so my head was kind of warm."


Anyway, so in the first episode, Tara goes to Greece to hang out with Paris Hilton and her then-beau, Man Paris. I spent almost the entire episode trying to decide if the show was living up to my expectations, not living up to my expectations or far surpassing my expectations. It was like my brain stopped working. That was when I realized that this show was so good - so transcendent of the medium of television - that it actually crawled inside of my brain, clubbed what must have been a hefty number of my cells and struck me as dumb as the subject on my screen. I couldn't think or speak coherently. I was drunk on Taradise.

Awesome.


All I was expecting from Taradise were the simple pleasures of watching the booze-fueled misadventures of a bloated C-list starlet as she stumbles her way through Europe. But I really got to know Tara. And I'm only on episode 2! So far I've found out that Tara isn't just the movie star equivalent of a homecoming court princess with her head in the toilet after drinking too much limo-champagne and puking on her prom dress in the parking lot, she's that homecoming queen if she were plucked out of remedial grade 9 classes, raised without learning any concept of shame or humiliation and cursed with a vocabulary almost totally limited to "like, oh my GOD!" Watching her suckle at the fame-teet of Paris Hilton is television at it's best. And on tonight's episode she was literally soaked in booze. Literally! It's like the fine folks at E! have a Allegorical Strike Squad as part of the Taradise production team.

Long story short: see you next week, Tara!!