The Pick-Up Artist

For those not familiar with VH1’s newest offering of ridiculous reality show, here’s the premise:

“The VH1 series, THE PICK-UP ARTIST, is a tale of transformation. For these eight lovable losers, “socially awkward” is the understatement of the year. And when it comes to this lonely hearts club, desperate times call for desperate measures. Enter Mystery, best-selling author and ultimate pick-up artist–a former nerd from the Great White North who has discovered the secret to wooing women. Under his expert tutelage, he’ll guide this group of hapless horndogs through the rough waters of romance and help them find the courage to overcome their biggest fear–talking to women.”

I watched it very late at night (or early in the morning?) while recovering from a night of drinking and it kinda sorta made me want to punch myself in the face. Repeatedly. At the same time, it was such a train wreck I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. I can certainly relate to being socially inept, if anything, but I’m not sure how I’d feel about having some weird sexually ambiguous guy give me his “expert tutelage”.

I had a rather entertaining weekend, although I’m about ready to unleash my rant on Mets fans (which is going to include a bitching-out of that waste Guillermo Mota). I didn’t think I could have less confidence in a first place team.