Desperate to be a Desperate Housewife

Several “reality shows” that showcase spoiled, shallow, intolerable cunts in their natural habitats of mansions, parties, and fine booze deserve a champagne-fueled cunting.

My wife is a true housewife. We decided to not farm out the raising of our child to disinterested 3rd parties. She keeps our home stocked, clean, and very well kept. We decided to not put her in the social indoctrination pipe called public school either. She is always busy and a housewife as good as they get.

However these desperate housecunts are anything but. They have multiple income streams and live with all things done for them. These drama queens being called housewives is an insult to the brave ladies who have chosen this most noble profession. The popularity of the shows is not lost on me but they should not be called housewives. We watch them because of the trainwreck spilling loads of cunt drama everywhere.

The title should be Rich Cunts Desperate to be Younger than They Are.

Nominated by: Texas Trumptard

36 thoughts on “Desperate to be a Desperate Housewife

  1. I suppose they’re a bit like the footballers’ wives type….,plastic tits,frozen face,make-up applied with a brickie’s trowel. So desperate to hold on to their meal-ticket that they’ll accept any humiliation just as long as their man doesn’t leave them for a younger model.

    Are women even “housewives” any more?…I thought that they all called themselves “full-time Mom” or “homemaker” these days.

  2. We’re living in a virtual/media world of car-crash reality TV. Some people just can’t help themselves from being suckered into watching this shite because it makes them feel better – just for an instant, as they watch these desperate saps resort to ever more cruder/wilder actions in order to garner attention. And the more people watch the more people become desensitized to it all.

    We’re turning into a nation of media zombies, unable to unplug and see the REAL real world from our own front doorstep. Instead, some of us are umbilically attached to this thing called the Media, and without it their lives are nothing.

  3. The original Desperate Housewives had big tits Terri Hatcher, once Lois Lane. The others weren’t too bad either and the programme took the piss out of itself and was infinitely better than watching EastbloodyEnders.

    The Real Housewives franchise is indeed a stream of contrived old cunt….. but I do sometimes catch the Beverly Hills one to see our ex-pat Lisa Vanderpump put the locals in their place yet the thick tarts don’t often realise she’s doing it.

  4. In the past justice decreed that cunts like this were burned as witches.

    If today’s world were just these cunts would be desperate to avoid the flames of Unkle Terry’s oven.

  5. I often see that Real Housewives of Cheshire ordure advertised on the idiot lantern.

    Predictably, the trailer is infested with bleached blonde, mahogany-shade faced, rubber-lipped old whores trying to out-do each other. Everything is ‘yeah, I literally thought…’ and other meaningless shyte peppered with the word ‘literally’.

    Designed for idiots with an IQ of sub 60. Now if they ran an episode called “Unkle Terry’s Mobile Oven Visits the Cheshire Housewives”, it would be a sure-fire ratings winner. I would tune in for one.

    What a fucking pile of old shit.

  6. I have never even heard of this nonsense but I can see it’s another step towards the new slack-jaw revolution.

    I used to love reading those adverts in the paper years ago for “Phone Bored Housewives Now”…shouldn’t they have been getting on with the cleaning and cooking instead of talking rubbish on the phone?

  7. Desperate Housewives? They don’t look desperate.

    Maybe they are desperate for food as there are five women, and only two bread sticks on the table. Clearly not enough for a proper meal.
    I shall see if sister Dolly can sort them out.
    The nights are drawing in. A big pot of casserole and jam roly poly and custard will see them through for now.

    • Ive met some of the cheshire ones .
      Worked for them.
      They were ok, was there during filming once and this big flash car pulls up behind my van, this bird got out and her face was like fuckin John Merrick!
      Placcy surgery,
      I nearly spewed up on the spot.

  8. How charitable you are, dear Spoonington! Alas, I am not quite as forgiving. I would rather my gamekeeper round them up, stun them with a stun gun (not stud gun, heavens, no!) slit their throats and put them to food use. Once the fake hair and the bits of clothing have been removed and sold on, my butler would soon whip these ridiculous tarts into shape with his new gargantuan rotary foodmixer – housewife & parnsip soup (may contain small bones) – makes a wonderfully filling meal for the lower servants and the estate workers. A fine result all round – housewives no longer desperate and servants satisfied with a hearty, nourishing meal. Lovely jubbley, as I believe the expression goes.

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