Dancing With The Stars Should Be Called Dancing With People Who Breathe

Confesh: I don’t watch Dancing With The Stars. I mean, honestly, why bother. I see bigger stars in my office building and in the neighborhood where I work. To wit, I have seen him:

You can take a picture of me you noted fashion photographer you!

And her:

Long Island’s Mother of the Year

And finally him:

Reality doesn’t bite for Ethan Hawke, but he still could use a shave.

But Jesus F—ing Christ, you turn on Dancing With The Stars and you see people who might have bagged your groceries one time.

I am by no means a snob when it comes to reality TV–I mean, I am Facebook friends with Simon Barney, who is the EX-husband of one of the Real Ho’wives of Orange County–but even I have to scratch my friend when I found who won last night’s finale of Dancing. Spoiler alert ahead.

Yup, Melissa Rycroft was declared the winner.

I’d be smiling too if I deceived the world that I was a star!

Now, I will admit that I know she was on The Bachelor. I know she was even picked in the final rose ceremony, but then Jason Mesnick later on dumped her on tv and picked some other bitch to marry. I know this not even because I watch The Bach but because I read about it everywhere. But home girl wasn’t even picked to be The Bachelorette! Does she really qualify as a star then, even by reality tv standards?

I guess I will just have to accept this. Hey, at least she beat Bristol Palin.

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