Actually, Denise, It's Not That Complicated

In my never-ending quest to relate my life to reality-television stars who, like me, are just trying to make their way in this world, I watched the premiere of Denise Richards' new show last night. Her show's title, Denise Richards: It's Complicated seemed appropriate. Anyone who reads tabloids could argue that Denise Richards: It's Simple would not accurately depict this former-model-turned-bad-actress-turned-Sheen Dynasty-gold-digger-turned-Heather Locklear's-home-wrecker's life. I also thought (mostly to rationalize to my fiance and half-owner of the DVR why I needed to record this show instead of his favorite Discovery Channel show) that since Denise and I are both 30-something women, I could relate. Granted, it would mostly be a "cautionary tale" kind of relate, but still. I think I read once where the the Dalai Lama says we can learn from everyone who comes across our TV Guide.

Ten minutes into It's Complicated, I was suspect. We meet Denise as she is headed to the DMV to change her name from Sheen back to Richards. When her number is called, however, the clerk informs her that her official document does not have a required signature to complete the change. I felt for her because we've all had the unpleasant experience of waiting in the DMV only to be turned away for one bureaucratic reason or another. But, as frustrated as I've been at the DMV at one time or another, I have never said, 'this is F-ing ridiculous!' She asked to see the manager, and then the manager's manager, all of whom told her the same thing. Her final response was that this whole thing was making her 'hot and itchy' and, again, that it was 'f-ing ridiculous.' Seriously, Denise, it's not complicated to understand that if Jesus Christ himself walked into the DMV with insufficient documents he would be turned away. It's also not complicated to show a little decency to others, especially those who are doing their job. Hey Denise, no one cares that you were a Bond Girl!

Throughout the show, she is a complete B-word; an F-ing baby who bleep, bleep, bleepety bleeps her narrative to the camera crew. Sure, we've all had hard days, having to book last minute spray tans for blind dates, finding a boar to impregnate our pet pig, and standing in line at the DMV, but most of us find a way to do it without getting 'hot and itchy.' Good thing she talks about her late mother, because from the way she talks you would think she was raised by wolves. The most complicated part of this show, it seems, is the job the sound editors will have bleeping out all of her expletives. Too bad her little girls have to hear the un-cut version of her narrative. Denise, on behalf of women everywhere, I say to you: "Have some f-ing class, it's really not that complicated."