E!
I’ll keep it simple. Interesting. Exciting. Sexy. I would sooner use these three words to describe Bob Hoskins in a thong than Taradise, Tara Reid’s “reality” show that lasted from September to October before being scrapped by E and relegated to a life of reruns at 2:00 AM every other week or so. “She’s Improving World Relations… One Party at a Time!” So goes their oxymoron of an advertising slogan. I’m all for allowing Tara to improve world relations if it means being sent to places like Tehran or Pyongyang to give a few dictators a much-needed orgasm, but I guess someone like Tara doesn’t understand that the world doesn’t really revolve around parties, despite what she has been taught her whole life. So we are taken on a “nonstop trip about the world with stops in luxurious spots, cultural hideaways and plenty of good times and adventures” with our drunker, pudgier host, afflicted with what I call the “Britney Spears Syndrome.” Shamefully, I’d still fuck the bejezus out of her, but in my defense, my cock knows no morals, has no taste and my standards aren’t what they once were.
Watching Tara Reid unscripted is not a pleasant experience. On the contrary, she is revealed as just another airhead blonde left rambling incoherently about unimportant crap when she isn’t regurgitating lines provided to her by someone with an IQ above 40. I almost felt bad for her when she argued with her friends over whether her tattoo is a hippo or a bird. Slurring her words, this scene left her indistinguishable from one of the trashier hookers you’d find in the trailer park on an episode of Cops: Arkansas. I cringed as she spoke with well-spoken Europeans all across the continent, while she offers the slurred high-speed empty-headed dialogue of a Valley Girl on Angel Dust. I recoiled in my seat as Tara and three friends spent hundreds of dollars on clothes with impunity, so that they can wear them once in a gigantic tomato fight held in Spain. Taradise: You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll gouge out your eyes with a screwdriver.
Episodes include following Tara as she performs the kickoff at a “major rugby game” in Bairritz, France, enjoys a wild night of partying with celebrities in Paris, does a FHM photoshoot in Croatia, and has fun on some gay fashion designer’s yacht. True to the show’s intention, she is finding fun hotspots around the world Europe, but it isn’t to help you plan your next vacation. What are the chances you, the viewer, will ever ride on a yacht, or get first class treatment as you prance around in Spain? This show is about Tara Reid and about a society that rewards people with wealth and fame when they star in a movie about high school students fornicating with an apple pie.
The Taradise website did offer me a glimmer of hope in advertising one episode with the description “Tara runs wild with the bulls in Pamplona.” But it was not to be. It turned out she merely watched the bulls, from five stories up, and consequently was not trampled to death. Which is just as well, because it would have been so sad to see her mauled to death by a herd of bulls. I know I’d grieve for at least 2 seconds. Then I’d make a sandwich and flip over to boxing.
With the cancellation of Taradise, no one really cares what looming abomination Tara will inevitably devise/destroy next. Whatever it is, said “entertainment” probably can’t be prevented, but I remain an optimist. It is my supreme desire that one day in the near future while rearranging her vanity cabinet (all prissy actresses have them), she becomes trapped between it and the door frame, and her disgruntled cleaning staff ignore her pleas for help, cuts the phone cord and skip town. Then, after a failed attempt to drink her own urine, dehydration slowly shuts down her internal organs, leaving nothing behind but a putrid stench to alert the neighbors a week later. But like I said, I’m an optimist.