Friday, February 25, 2011

Things That Make You Go…

Where to start? How about, we're glad we aren't JJ Jr.
Hmmm...

(Which, as many of you loyal readers know, is sometimes code for WTF?)

Not so very long ago folks around T.A.H. Worldwide Media LLC headquarters were abuzz about a couple of ne'er-do-well locals crashing a White House state dinner as part of the reality show The Real Housewives of D.C.

Hence, the pop culture staff at T.A.H. was required to watch the series which wasn’t all bad but it paled a bit when compared to other versions of popular franchise because the majority of the Washington D.C.’s cast a) didn’t live in D.C. b) all but one were boringly normal and c) that particular one was so delusional it made your fillings hurt.

The Real Housewives of the Washington, D.C. metro area.
The former wine merchants and polo wanna-bes, Michaele and Tareq Salahi hijacked the show literally “crashing” our reality with thiers.  Suffice to say they didn’t match.

Welcome to Crazy Town.

As most agreed that the D.C. version of the hit show was, to put it rather ungentley - lame, the good folks at BRAVO decided to bury the girls from the Capital of the Free World by following it up with some ladies from Beverly Hills.  Some in that cast were card-carrying bat-s*** crazy (the soon-to-be ex-Mrs. Kelsey Grammer and the Paris’ Hilton’s aunt who once [starred?] on the Little House on the Sad Boob-Jobbed Prairie) while others were so rich they made NBA stars look poor – Oh yeah, one of them (one of the normal ones) owns an NBA team!

The "Real" Housewives of Beverly Hills
No doubt, this display of California sunshine, glitz, botox, plastic surgery and uber-wealth hit a nerve with the spotlight craving Salahis who then reached into their bag of tricks in search of the next “it” event to crash.

“Let’s see, Michaele,” says the slimy Tareq, “What shall we crash…The Grammys? Nah, too many famous people and I'm afraid of Kanye West…Tahrir square? Nah, too dangerous and way too dirty.  The space shuttle launch? Nah…TMZ doesn’t know what a space shuttle is…by the way, what is a space shuttle?”

Well, after hours of meaningful dialog and much deep pondering the Salahis (due to be enshrined this summer in Akron, Ohio into the Party Crashers Hall of Fame) decided that “everything is big in Texas.”

Believing that they had just made up what would become a famous slogan for the Lone Star state, our little Virginia wine and equine croquette mogulettes headed off to the Super Bowl.

Dave...what were you thinking?
Luckily, they were invited to Jerry Jones executive suite.  Surely, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys and the host of the Super Bowl would be delighted to see them.

Once inside Michaele twittered (yeah, we know it’s tweeted, but we kind of like twittered better in this case) “Super Bowl XLV rocks” complete with a picture.  Instantly, all her followers (morons, every single one) followed up with “Wow, how did you know what “XLV” meant?”  OK, maybe she didn’t and she saw it on a sign…

To once again quote Peggy from Mad Men: “It was going so well until it wasn’t.”

Turns out that the Cowboy’s director of client services Brett Daniels said the couple was “Not invited, and…were immediately, but discreetly, escorted out of the suite by security."

Bummer.

Nothing says "social climbing" like being called out by the U.S. Congress
According to the Salahis, they were hanging with "Jerry Jr and friends."   It should come as no surprise Michaele insisted to TMZ.com that she and her toadish husband "were guests and stayed in the Owners Club Suites the entire time and had so much fun meeting new friends."  You know, when you crash a party where you don’t know ANYBODY, everybody you meet is NEW.  (Just wanted to clear that up.)

Next stop, Final Four? 

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