Yes, damn, I love Trash-TV! ? A shameless confession
Trash TV makes you happy. If my evenings include the 22 quirky Dreamdate contenders with nail art and clothes from the Turkish bridal shop, which could be bottled with Amarula by a stag-toed muckibuden bachelor, the world is fine. Likewise, when celebrities you've never heard of compete with animals in the Australian jungle for animalistic behavior, or Heidi's girls prove that they pose at least as much attitude as a herd of dozing alpacas. Because when it comes to television, it can not be simple enough for me. Everyone will understand: Since my studies in German studies (a wrong decision, which I deeply regret until today) I have to recover from all these strenuous masterpieces that were imposed on me then and of which I did not even understand half. My feeling tells me that this regeneration phase still has many seasons from? The Bachelor ?,? The Jungle Camp? and? Germany? s Next Top Model? will outlast.
Waldorf School, wooden toys? did not help anything
My parents have done everything to stop this development? maybe too much. Waldorf school. Wooden toys. Farm. As a kid, I was always outside, playing with slugs and tree roots. Later I formed Leonardo DiCaprio out of clay. We had a strict TV ban. The only exception:? Augsburger Puppenkiste ?. Maybe that's why I was crazy about it. And it is still today. Only the level has dropped more and more over time. Steep downhill of? Urmel out of the ice? to Ronald Schill in Rio. But was never my approach to form me through TV. And anyway: Actually, I do not even watch TV? I stare: in baggy Onesie (a degrading adult hooded gown), plates on her lap? and with an inexcusable program selection. And of which I expect only one thing: shut off dull and amuse myself, preferably at the expense of others. This arrogance does not suit me at all. I also come from one of these small towns, which produce Gina-Lisa Lohfinks and Menderes Bagcis in series. Those who eat in restaurants with brockhausdicken menus (in addition to Italian, Asian and Mexican cuisine is also Turkish and German offered) and there are no clubs, but discos named? La Palma? gives. So I have the potential to end up on an air mattress in a bankrupt cocktail bar?
Nobody can come up with real life
Speaking of:? Goodbye Germany? is after? The Bachelor? my favorite show. Go to the phone or open the door when Mallorca-Jens is howling at the small car on a French motorway? Not in life! This great mix of naivety, megalomania, and foreign language know-how (? Help! The engine iss? Er loose !?) could not produce a scriptwriter. What I also like to be lying on my sofa: "Miss?", The format of the tears, looks also my 93-year-old grandmother. The show is always good when compassionate Julia Leischik mercilessly in German on innocent Peruvian Indians persuades (? I'm from Germany, do you know Rodriguez Müller ??). Or people report back to their children after 40 years, because the coal has run out. Although so hypocritical that the name? Much better, I cry too, when people cling sob sobbing, which have messed up each other's lives. Especially because I know that then the program is over.
Moments of pure joy
But fortunately, there is enough bizarre stuff to satisfy my yearning for pointless conversation. For example, when travel iron owner Walther tries to slurize Eastern European women by means of coffee machines in bed and kitchen (? Traumfrau gesucht?). Row house owner completely collapsing in the face of an overturned garden pond ("Off to the bed!"). Or the ex-girlfriends of celebrities in the humble glitter of the clothes on the dance floor, stapled an expression in the face that could be described as a beaming smile, the fear of public exposure and a complicated break would not be so painful to recognize behind it (? s dance?). Moments of pure joy! What fascinates me about such private station spectacles is the genuineness of the actors. Even if it hurts: That's life. And that's how we are. Also. Somehow. This is incredible, often repugnant, sometimes even touching? and for me: more captivating than any art house strip. That's why I love trash TV. So much so that I'm not even ashamed of it. Sure: You could just as well cry unrestrained, would not it? such an infinite fun.
