I've pretty much given up on MTV. Primarily, because there's no longer any M in the TV. Secondarily, because Adam no longer works there. (Sort of. He does exec produce Nick Cannon's Wild N Out, but he's not on staff.) So I don't often find myself landing on that channel as I scour the tube for something to watch. I'm actually comfortable with the idea that MTV has passed me by, or I've passed it by. One or the other.
In truth, though, I'm hoping its MTV that changed, and not me, because I can't imagine that any of the stuff we used to watch was as unrepentently, unapologetically evil as My Super Sweet 16. If you haven't seen this show, then I encourage you to seek it out, just to marvel, slack-jawed, at how some parents have raised their little girls.
I mean, take a look at this one, Nicole, who wants to hire some local celeb rapper to play her party. For $25,000. For a sweet 16 party. That will be forgotten by all who attended within the week. I think I spent as much on my wedding. And I had a nice wedding. No C-list hip-hoppers, though.
I hope that my relationship with my children never gets so emotionally bankrupt that I have to resort to lavish, ridiculous financial gifts to make them hug me. Because, really, that's all this is: a ploy for affection. And if your kid won't say "I love you" without getting a gift first—like, say, the $40,000 BMW Nicole gets at the end of her "episode"—congratulations, you've officially raised a whore.