![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBBwVxkBsRRhEXFWI-OdCIuYaAppvPqVYaNpL4k8vWloGMqqexzZdU30uS3SzdMMaKQF32z4_ILIOAGslgkSXfg0Fi0rMoiIs0qJ_5Ne9QP3ENgnCQ7phNilHtsK9UGI9cQRKz2QREUCc/s400/423x100.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJJhnp_VBXXPSl29DmiUhqbr1xRpnkm09mhcXhirEaDRwly4e9hjee53I4o27YUnAIBPw6Hsmb9rRSn54CV8P1lgpeMEQx9LAMagMPe-etvhFSHfsZRwxQiyccbn4o5QO3XHxtwlU9G0/s200/109-x600.jpg)
Since the fabulous "Real Housewives of New York" unraveled into a bland season of faux Southern divas in Atlanta, the best reality show on TV is CMT's "Mobile Home Disaster." No, I'm serious. Sorry HGTV, Fine Living and Style Channel. Hosted by admitted, self-effacing redneck comedian John "Cap" Caparillo (left), it follows a typical template of remodeling a home for those in need: but in this case, we're talking overwrought families crowded into mobile homes that border on unlivable.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjLWMlDZ17XIB3P_t7I_fiTNKiDayKXAuwnYiiwTfbPFvygvkBfmSmIvuyv2DF7yvynDtzLgE8hRHHooQMj9_c6-xD5uzjU0HCvYYhudS9AaYKBQG6FjRtk8FcKL7XTWJvEDMQVjsrR4/s200/IMG_9527.JPG)
It's funny as hell, touching and the results outdo the gloss and glamour of the HGTV shows that I've been addicted to for so long... Host Sandra Rinomato is wonderfully mean to dumbass new-home buyers on "Property Virgins," Carter Oosterhouse can do no wrong with his skills (and those teeth) on "Carter Can," David Bromstad is
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUOdn1bUIfGzvt2GhMAumDXhfK1ot-gYbRUAFdhiBjBUrJo_OpzL5-5DStR1znZVjF_7tP3bytyrQXNxdrmxiJijyJmbb5lB6_XQz_WiYSfLkz98XxwrH-s9XS8dDZc3XgrIO4pORrGUs/s200/castaic_0190-x600.jpg)
among the most engaging, handsome and talented reality TV hosts I regularly watch on "Color Splash," and my main ladies—Donna and Shannon Freeman—who appear on a number of HGTV series, are deliciously brutal with those who have no clue that their homes are decorated like whorehouses.
But I digress. "Mobile Home Disaster" always leaves me a bit teary in the end, as I chortle like an overweight Alabama housewife throughout... and swoon like a metropolitan homosexual over carpenter Kyle. Every show needs one of those. While cleaning house today, I was glued to a four-episode mini-marathon, thanks to Tivo. Yee-haw!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please note that because of Spam, comments are now approved by The Smoking Nun, within a day of posting. Please feel free to smoke here all you want!