Cornetto Love? Perhaps Blah Blah Bleh
"I tried my best and I have no regrets at all."
No, this isn’t about that dude who single-handedly cemented the fate of all Chinese geeks that they can’t sing for shit but rather my attempts at attracting the opposite sex (I’ve gotten some looks from gay men before and it’s really not the most pleasant feeling in the world). This is about a show which has just concluded and declared its “winners”. A series with more twist than Twisties, the show had garnered a loyal following of about a dozen people and all of them were on the show.
Would I enter a contest—a show on TV—to find love? I can’t really say for sure. My personal opinion is that these kinds of shows merely perpetrate the notion of finding love rather than cultivating it. How can any sane, gorgeous, smart and oh so lovely woman, choose a guy after 12 episodes? These guys have to strut, play the fool, entertain like a court jester, charm like snake charmer to win their way into the heart of their desired woman. It’s like how animals want to reproduce. Female peacocks don’t choose the more caring males who are sensitive, they choose the male that can impress them the most. The bigger the tail, the better.
We’ve finally reached the end of Cornetto’s Love? Perhaps. A show that had built itself considerable suspense and enough intrigue to keep most people interested but the grand finale, the shocking climax, ended up being the mother of anticlimaxes. It was humdrum at its most humdrum. Nothing surprised me. It was all way too much and far too little. It’s a show that is both silly and puzzling and somewhat demeaning. Oh yes, there was the obligatory back-stabbing, clandestine alliances, and the gorgeous host who tried in desperation to keep the wheels of suspense turning even though it was flat right from the get-go. She’s gorgeous all right but really, she should be doing something else other than hosting.
One of the taglines of the show was “Play the game of love and be a winner,” or something to that fact, I don’t really remember on account of the absurdity of it all and me watching Amazing Race. But is love a game? Personally, I would never call it that. I’m pretty old-fashioned when it comes to the matters of the heart even though I’m a metalhead with one of the metal of hearts.
Imagine if you’re the “winner”. What are you going to say to people, that I won a goddamn show and here’s my girlfriend who’s also the grand prize? But let’s stop for a while and eat my year’s supply of Cornetto’s. Would you be yourself?
A previous post of mine mentioned that:
Thanks to Lia, the above is juvenile and silly and I didn’t think it through properly. The meaning was there, it was just worded in the most ghastly of sentences. You guys get the gist, right?
Here’s to the next season.
No, this isn’t about that dude who single-handedly cemented the fate of all Chinese geeks that they can’t sing for shit but rather my attempts at attracting the opposite sex (I’ve gotten some looks from gay men before and it’s really not the most pleasant feeling in the world). This is about a show which has just concluded and declared its “winners”. A series with more twist than Twisties, the show had garnered a loyal following of about a dozen people and all of them were on the show.
Would I enter a contest—a show on TV—to find love? I can’t really say for sure. My personal opinion is that these kinds of shows merely perpetrate the notion of finding love rather than cultivating it. How can any sane, gorgeous, smart and oh so lovely woman, choose a guy after 12 episodes? These guys have to strut, play the fool, entertain like a court jester, charm like snake charmer to win their way into the heart of their desired woman. It’s like how animals want to reproduce. Female peacocks don’t choose the more caring males who are sensitive, they choose the male that can impress them the most. The bigger the tail, the better.
We’ve finally reached the end of Cornetto’s Love? Perhaps. A show that had built itself considerable suspense and enough intrigue to keep most people interested but the grand finale, the shocking climax, ended up being the mother of anticlimaxes. It was humdrum at its most humdrum. Nothing surprised me. It was all way too much and far too little. It’s a show that is both silly and puzzling and somewhat demeaning. Oh yes, there was the obligatory back-stabbing, clandestine alliances, and the gorgeous host who tried in desperation to keep the wheels of suspense turning even though it was flat right from the get-go. She’s gorgeous all right but really, she should be doing something else other than hosting.
One of the taglines of the show was “Play the game of love and be a winner,” or something to that fact, I don’t really remember on account of the absurdity of it all and me watching Amazing Race. But is love a game? Personally, I would never call it that. I’m pretty old-fashioned when it comes to the matters of the heart even though I’m a metalhead with one of the metal of hearts.
Imagine if you’re the “winner”. What are you going to say to people, that I won a goddamn show and here’s my girlfriend who’s also the grand prize? But let’s stop for a while and eat my year’s supply of Cornetto’s. Would you be yourself?
A previous post of mine mentioned that:
I would I guess what I’m trying to say is that 99% of the time I’m very glad that my money is all mine to spend, but when the 1% does happen, I do wish I had a special someone to share it with.
Thanks to Lia, the above is juvenile and silly and I didn’t think it through properly. The meaning was there, it was just worded in the most ghastly of sentences. You guys get the gist, right?
Here’s to the next season.
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