Wherein I Review a Show That Doesn’t Exist

Wherein I Review a Show That Doesn’t Exist

– Calico Rudasill, Sssh.com Porn Movies For Women that DO get reviewed!

When it comes to writing reviews of movies, television shows or other works of entertainment, my general rule is a simple one: Don’t do it. To be clear, this rule only applies to me. Obviously, I don’t mind other people writing reviews. I’m not that reflexively or irrationally resentful.

The reason I don’t like to write reviews is a bit complicated. The best way I can describe it is that it’s one part laziness, one part a sincere desire not to ‘steer’ or unduly other people’s perception of any given creative work (particularly before they’ve had a chance to view it for themselves) and one part… uh… hmm. 

OK, maybe it’s two parts laziness.

Why Don’t I Like to Write Reviews? Let’s Review

One part of writing reviews of which I’m not fond is taking the time to watch, read, play with, insert or otherwise engage with something I would normally and comfortably ignore. On occasion, being assigned things to review has even led to life-altering trauma stuck with me for years. 

Once, back when I was but a lowly contributor to a student newspaper, I was even given the task of reviewing Judge Dredd. In retrospect, I probably should have sued my editor for intentional infliction of emotional distress.

Another thing I don’t like about writing reviews is that I feel greatly constrained by reality, ethics and basic human decency when I do. It’s probably not fair, for example, to include in a review a description of a sequence that never takes place in the film/book/Wi-Fi router instruction manual in question. But some films, books and musicals can truly use some spicing up – which I why I stand by the decision I made in reviewing Hamilton some years ago to imply that Lin-Manuel Miranda had inserted the unexpected twist of having Alexander Hamilton win his duel with Aaron Burr.

Even when my reviews are completely accurate and entirely faithful to the work I’m reviewing, sometimes I get a little carried away. Sometimes, I’ll forget that some readers haven’t had the chance to read/watch/eat whatever it is I’m writing about. In that context, it’s probably a huge mistake to tell people the big chase scene involving Predator drones and ET flying around on his bicycle is the highlight of Marry Me, right? Nobody likes a spoiler, after all.

Bingeworthy Entertainment – Without the Time Commitment

The above is, effectively, a long introduction to a review that eschews the ordinary, mundane, some would say “professional” approach other writers take to reviewing things. It is inspired by, but not all about, an HBO Max series called The Sex Lives of College Girls.

Look, any reviewer can write about this show in the usual, mundane, ‘accurate’ way. I’ll let them tell you it’s “fun but flawed”, or “uneven” despite having “promise”, or everything they know about season 2. Me? I’m not going to settle for that manner of well-trodden ground. No, I’m going to do the unexpected, the nontraditional, the zig-when-they-expect-zag – and most importantly, the thing which doesn’t require me to sit around binging The Sex life of College Girls just to complete this post.

Yes, that’s right: Rather than review The Sex life of College Girls, a show that I have researched thoroughly enough to confirm that it does exist, I’m going to review a show that most likely will never exist: Calico’s Sex Life as a College Girl.

Tune in Next Week… for More Deeply Unsatisfying Sex

More accurately, I’m going to review the pilot episode of Calico’s Sex Life as a College Girl, for two reasons already referenced – the desire to avoid spoilers and that laziness thing.

At any rate, the pilot episode opens with a young me, no doubt played by some hot Hollywood A-lister, sitting in the living room of my small apartment, trying to study while my roommate smokes pot from a bong the size of a didjeridu, periodically hacking her lungs out in between expressing shock that I’m studying when it’s almost Wednesday, which is “practically the weekend.”

After a long and pointless conversation, my roommate then leaves to have sex with her idiot boyfriend, whose name is Carl, or maybe Chris, or possibly Bill. I turn to the camera and say something mean like “If that guy weren’t an utter tool by whom I’m thoroughly, viscerally repulsed, I might feel a little bit jealous right now.”

Later in the episode, I have very unsatisfying, terribly awkward sex with my idiot boyfriend, whose name doesn’t matter. Fuck it, let’s just call him “Steve,” because I don’t know if this show will be renewed for Season 2, which is when the real Steve would be introduced – and Steve was such a piece of shit that there needs to be some asshole named “Steve” in this show, or we’ll be sacrificing a significant portion of its realism.

I suppose in between those scenes, we’ll have a montage in which I go to my classes, wherein I spend time looking longingly at any decent looking guy who hasn’t said anything yet, because frankly, as soon as any of them speak, it pretty much ruins the attraction. This repeated moment of disappointment should probably be depicted at length somewhere in the first season, come to think of it, because this was such a part of my daily routine during freshman year.

By the end of the pilot, the viewers of Calico’s Sex Life as a College Girl will know two important things that make them thirsty for Episode 2. First, they will know I would desperately like to be having better sex, more often, with someone other than Mr. No-Name, who probably feels much the same way. Second, they will know my roommate is selling pot to a young officer from the campus police department and that I kinda want to fuck that cop, if only so that later I can honestly tell people that I’d had sex with a “dirty cop.” Ideally, he’d be into some weird kink, just so “dirty cop” could have a great double entendre.

Ok, I can’t help myself; I must reveal one spoiler: I never do have sex with the cop. But I am forced to listen through the bathroom door as her stoner roommate fucks him in the shower. 

The good news is, for this to become an actual spoiler, we’d have to make it all the way to Season 3. That might be a hard sell from HBO’s perspective, given how bad – not to mention maddeningly infrequent – most of the sex is going to be in Calico’s sophomore year.