So here we go, Snoop Dogg has entered the pantheon of rappers on reality television. Fortunately for SOHH Leftâ€™s insides, Snoop Doggâ€™s Father Hood appears to be more in the vein of Runâ€™s House than Flavor of Love, â€˜cause weâ€™re gonna watch this each week and give it a running diary. This is more E! than Iâ€™ve watched in my entire life and getting the last faux patriotic minutes of Girls Next Door is already making me ill. This is (not) going to be good.
Snoop lives around rich people and has a bumper sticker saying â€œMy Kid Is The Shiznet.â€
Snoop rhymes Huxtables with vegetables and has crazy nicknames for his kids. This is going to be the greatest fake reality show ever. The first bleeped out curse word happened 17 seconds after the theme song.
Snoopâ€™s house is a mess. Snoopâ€™s first parenting technique is to accept the challenge of his eldest son for a push-up contest, loser cleans the living room. Snoop wins, even if he wusses out on the last few push-ups.
Snoopâ€™s stresses: 1) recording a record, 2) the football team, 3) hip-hop policeâ€¦this is why he needs to go to a doctor. Is his face-tucked Beverly Hills doctor going to prescribe him a cloak of invisibility against the feds? What about a strict regiment for winning over a jury? She'll probably just make his weed legal.
Snoop is afraid of needles. â€œIt ainâ€™t you, itâ€™s me,â€ he tells his face-tucked Beverly Hills doctor. The scriptedness of this reality show is already wearing thin. Snoop makes a joke about not eating yogurt when the face-tucked Beverly Hills doctor suggests yoga. The networks call this intellectual vomit â€œproduced reality,â€ I remember when producing a reality meant putting food on the table.
Cleaning the house has turned into a silly-string fight. I love rich people.
Snoop is late for yoga because he had to stop at Roscoeâ€™s with his giant bodyguard. Everyone is staring at the white girl yoga instructorâ€™s breastesses, this is quickly bumpered by a burping contest.
White girl yoga teacher does not feel Snoopâ€™s joke about opening up her hips. Itâ€™s the funniest thing thus far. Namaste.
Snoop goes to see an acupuncturist. For a man trying to avoid needles, it doesnâ€™t seem like the right place. Hilariously, in that produced reality way, the acupuncturist is blind. Apparently every person outside of the Snoop family has to be easily defined. White girl yoga teacher. Blind acupuncturist. Face-tucked Beverly Hills doctor. You canâ€™t write this stuff! Oh wait, you totally can.
My girlfriend asks, â€œIs this show over yet?â€ No baby, there are like 15 1/3 episodes left. Snoop does the whole â€œlook over thereâ€ bit to the blind acupuncturist and runs away.
The kids play possum when Boss Lady, aka Snoopâ€™s wifey, comes back and they havenâ€™t cleaned up the house. She needs a catch phrase. My moneyâ€™s on â€œdogg gone it,â€ but I heard the writers are on strike.
Boss Lady blames Snoopâ€™s stress on the kidâ€™s filth, but I donâ€™t remember him listing that. Couldnâ€™t he just hire another cleaning woman?
A laxative commercial is less painful than Snoopâ€™s produced reality.
Snoopâ€™s mountaintop is vacuuming. This actually makes more sense than youâ€™d think. We'll see you next week, assuming my brain recovers and my girl forgives me.