My irrational hatred of “Sex and the City” and how I have seen every episode.

There are certain shows that you absolutely love, but must watch with the curtains drawn. No one wants to be judged for what they are watching, there has to be a reason why “Desperate Housewives” had fantastic ratings for years but you could never find someone who watched it.

“Sex and the City” is a show that I have watched sporadically since it first premiered. It was one of those shows that I continued to watched for reasons that were beyond me. I have always hated the characters, the laughable dialogue, the lame attempts at plot development, not to mention the anti-feminist basis for most of the character’s motivations.

Let us first dissect these four horrid women:

Carrie: Her attempts at appearing adorable and childlike are nauseating. There is nothing cute about a 35-year-old woman prancing around in a tutu, whining about everything, and expecting everyone to go along with every thing she desires. She is incredibly selfish, and spends an inexplicable amount of money on shoes and hideous designer clothing. The woman has literally worn a belt cinched around her bare mid-riffed waist. Poor Aidan, that handsome furniture maker wanted to marry her and she decided that having an anxiety attack whilst in a wedding dress and cheating on him was the best solution for ending things. Don’t even get me started on her insufferable writing skills. How does this woman get paid to be a writer? The lead is immature, materialistic, selfish and a poor columnist, and those are the characteristics that are supposed to be endearing.

Charlotte:A princess that has her eye on the prize, meaning a husband. But this husband can’t be impotent or that ruins the whole prince fantasy, although there was no guarantee that sleeping beauty or Cinderella were always left satisfied. Charlotte’s biggest fault is her pure close-minded naiveté. She isn’t a bad person, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to beat her over the head with some sense.

Samantha: Being a sexual person is good, even being a bit of a slut can be fine if you are careful. Samantha’s problem is she is getting far too long in the tooth to be acting like such a free-spirited co-ed. Not to say that a mature woman can’t enjoy her fair share of meaningless sex. The character of Smith was great because it showed that Samantha was actually a worthwhile human being that could be in love, and be in love with someone who wasn’t awful (remember Richard?). But it was a shame to see them split in the first movie. It was also realistic and understandable. Samantha, no matter how much she may have daddy issues, may be the least infuriating person of the quartet.

Miranda: The thing about Miranda is that she portrays what a feminist would be in the SATC universe, which is to say, a false superficial version of feminism. The woman accidentally gets pregnant by a nice bar owner, Steve, who basically worships the ground she walks on. I can’t really blame her for not initially falling head over heels for him, because, like so many women, I am also always into the bad boy and have no interest in the really nice guy. After years of fighting it, Miranda finally realized that Steve is the perfect guy for her, after years of treating him in an unreasonable and harsh manner. She also constantly complains about the bummer her life has become since becoming a mother even though her social life doesn’t really seem to be majorly changed. She really scored on the likeability meter when she  insisted on Steve’s alzheimer’s-ridden mother move in with them. In the movie, it is revealed that nice-guy-Steve cheated on Miranda. If I were Steve, I would have cheated on her too, she’s mostly a cold bitch.

One might ask why I hate a show and yet am so well versed. Well, I think having a vast knowledge of a show and disliking it makes even more sense. But logically, it would seem that if I don’t like a show, why do I continue to torture myself, and waste hours upon hours of my life knowing every detail of characters that I hate. Seriously, if I were trapped in an elevator with these women, I would find something sharp to drive through my temple. Or perhaps each of theirs. I can’t give a reasonable explanation for any of this, some things we just can’t explain. In many cases women are friends with other women that they will continue to talk trash about, stab in the back and constantly complain about but will still attend their party. This may be the reason why I like to hang out with men.

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