What Do I Know - MTV Cribs

What Do I Know - MTV Cribs: "Just when I thought I was going to have a very productive Sunday, I flip on MTV during breakfast and see that they’re having a Cribs marathon this afternoon. “Cribs” is the only MTV produced show I can stand to watch for more than a few minutes, mainly because it has nothing to do with MTV. If MTV could find a way to inject itself into the show, they’d do it — their narcissism is paramount.

Here are just a few points to consider when watching Cribs.

For God’s sake, if you’ve got an endless stream of money, hire an interior designer - not your wife, girlfriend, or mother. Time after time, whichever room has been designed by a star’s family member or significant other, it’s always out of place, in poor taste, or just incongruous to the star’s personality. My favorite example would be Snoop Dogg standing in his cream colored dining room, obviously uncomfortable, muttering, “I never come in here.”

The editing is notoriously horrible. My brother refuses to watch the show ‘cause it gives him a headache. Some art director at MTV must have decided that the kids out there couldn’t possibly be interested in a room full of furniture, so they interject endless slo-mo cuts of Tommy Lee flinging himself onto a bed, Snoop Dogg’s artful smile when talking about weed and his Sony Playstation, etc. It’s the video equivalent of a sugar fed, attention deficit child desperately in need of a little ritalin.

Musicians hate cooking. I fail to grasp this one, but I have yet to see a Cribs episode where a rock / hip-hop star actually puts something more in their stainless steel Sub-Zero fridge than a bunch of soda and moldy pizza. I always thought creative types gravitated towards cooking, but I guess not.

Celebrities put their shoes in the closet heel first. I cracks me up visualizing some poor agent or assistant to Carmen Electra spending an hour sitting in the closet, turning all her shoes toe-out, when you know they’re usually in a huge pile like everyone else.

Hip-hop artists make rock stars look like chumps. Period. Well, except for Redman.

Everyone loves Frank. How many times have you seen a portrait of Frank Sinatra hanging in someone’s house?

Candles. MTV and VH1 need to go into the candle business, for they’re burning ‘em every chance they can.

Nobody reads. I have yet to see a house that has a well-stocked bookshelf or library. If and when there is a bookshelf, it’s always opened to reveal piles of DVDs, VHS tapes, knick-knacks, and…candles!

I can see why rock dinosaurs like Ozzy Osbourne continue to tour, otherwise they’d be trapped in suburban hell. Few episodes are funnier than Ozzy hanging out at home, talking to his daughter about her fondness for the Backstreet Boys. His words and expressions mirror every other befuddled, rock-n-roll purist father out there. Well, except for the hair, sunglasses and makeup that is.

But hey, despite the somewhat predictable nature of the show, it’s such a joy to see all the crap these so-called taste-makers blow their money on.