While my own romantic adventures are the stuff of dreams, I am sorry to admit I took the debacle that was the I Love New York reunion poorly. Maybe I was missing Soldier or maybe I was still dehydrated. In any case, I cried with anger as I watched the pathetic conclusion to my most recent pop cultural junk food.

I Love New York was the spin-off to VH1’s popular Flavor of Love reality shows. New York is the loony sexpot Flavor Flav rejected on national TV twice. The producers thought it might be fun to set her up in an LA mansion with her equally crazy mother, a gay assistant, her Chihuahua Her Majesty, and a diverse crowd of bachelors. A few million weirdos like me tuned in to make it VH1’s highest rated show ever. Who could resist the antics of immature hoodlum Chance, probably closeted exotic dancer Six-Pack, and drunken mama’s boy Heat? Who didn’t root for sexy WhiteBoy and kindhearted Real? What about Pootie’s nervous breakdown and Mr. Boston’s drama with everyone? New York disappointed me and many others by choosing Chance and the tempestuous Tango as her finalists. But I was shocked when New York used her common sense and chose Tango over Chance and even more surprised when she accepted a diamond engagement ring from the muscular rapper. All seemed to end well.

The reunion show contained the usual tensions between former rivals, sour grapes from bachelors who were rejected early in the show, and what seemed to be a sweet reunion from the newly engaged couple. But Tango, still on edge from a near-fight with White Boy and Chance, suddenly turned on New York. While it is true that she is bitchy and rude, Tango showed little courage in calling her out on national television. If he was so disgusted with her reality show behavior, why propose? Why kiss and hug her and then commence yelling? He proved all his critics right. He is unstable. I actually felt for New York as she broke down in tears(though not before she made mention about Tango’s unimpressive anatomy.) Call me a sentimentalist but even crazy bitches deserve to find a good man.

Or maybe I need to cut back on that mental junk food.