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I know they’re bad, you know they’re bad, so let’s just accept it and enjoy this garbage together!

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She may’ve first became relevant through sex but as soon as Kim Kardashian got her foot in the door, she switched the narrative on us. All of a sudden, we weren’t dealing with just another one of Paris Hilton’s promiscuous party girl friends. We were being introduced to the Princess Di of the new Millennium.

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Gallery Girls claims to be about hungry Millennials climbing the ladder in the art world but, at its core, it’s a show about rivalry.

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Seriously stop watching them.

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You experience a brief fugue: Picture one of the “eliminated” contestants returning home to their job as [something], meeting friends somewhere for a meal or coffee/tea beverage, picture them far away from a world that manicured them and plucked their brows, picture them exactly like you again, like… having had to go from being a Person on TV to being exactly like you except maybe a little more gorgeous, and that they have all these friends who were not chosen to go on TV.

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Becoming jaded to the plights of addicts is somewhat disturbing. You should never yawn when you see someone shoot up drugs, but here I am! Yawning away as Jennifer—the molestation victim—shoots up in a seedy motel with her BF who’s also her pimp. Ugh, how did I get to this place of being so desensitized?

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You notice it the minute you walk into my apartment. Who am I kidding, you can smell it before you even get to the door. The neighborhood kids gossip about it, my friends have given up on seeing me, and my family has all but disowned me. It’s a problem I’ve kept hidden for months and have never quite been able to admit. But it’s become far too obvious to ignore, and it’s time to stop hiding. I am a hoarder, and what I hoard is episodes of the TV show Hoarders.