"Mid-morning bloody television"

The above quote comes from either Patsy or Edina, when, in the hospital for plastic surgery, they're forced to watch sub-prime-time TV. The same thing happens to me, minus the liposuction, every time I go to the gym. Since gym trips remain few and far between, I don't worry too much about brain rot from shows a step below what I'd willingly watch, say, on an airplane. But perhaps I should. This time the treadmill I picked offered MTV's "Next", a dating show where contestants have mini-dates, with the person all are competing to 'get' shouting "Next!" when he or she has had enough. The show is terrible in so many ways, I almost forgot I was running! Let me count them...

-Everyone involved looks interchangeable with everyone else--the same tan, bleached-blond, 19-year-old seemed to have replicated himself (then, when it switched over to girls competing over a guy, herself). As a consequence of my schooling, I have trouble telling tanned, blond, athletic types apart. That I was on a treadmill didn't help.

-In that all involved are identical, league-wise, type-wise, and so forth, it's unclear what makes the one girl worthy of these five guys' competition. Who but a girl like this would they go out with? Shouldn't there be at least a pretense of a prize larger than being picked winner of a reality show?

-When each 'date' emerges from the bus (why a bus?), the dreamboat can immediately say, "Next," revealing that the person in question is, as they say, "busted." Since all the show's witticisms and one-liners are almost painfully scripted, I'm hoping this bit is as well. Since all the contestants appear to put a premium on physical appearance, and to go to the gym more often than once every two (err, three) weeks, this sort of rejection could be truly upsetting.