Ten Things That Made Me Want to Stick My Head in an Oven This Year - #4. I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant

4. I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant – Anyone who knows me knows that I hate reality television. The original concept was intriguing, but it quickly became apparent that "reality" television was just improv using untrained actors who moonlight as horrible human beings. Most shows have devolved into a game of constant one-upmanship: How many douchebags can we fit in a house, and how much prodding do they need to act like assholes? I'm not interested in that, as I can just go down to a club at the Jersey Shore if I want to see that.  Oh wait…

In addition to the tried-and-true method of confined douchebag assembly, a newer variation of reality shows have emerged, focused on extreme situations. In the same way that paterntiy suit participants on the Maury Povich Show have increased the reliability of their claims (I think the current standard is "I am 10,000% sure that ain't my baby!"), these shows have become more and more ridiculous. This year's "Ow! My Balls!" award for most ridiculous reality show goes to our number four entry: "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant."

Ten Things That Made Me Want to Stick My Head in an Oven This Year - #7. Balloon Boy

7. Balloon Boy – This story had everything I hate about our society. Parents who give their children ridiculous names (Did you name your kid after a Midwest state? You might as well install a pole in her bedroom so she can get some practice for her future career), the twenty-four hour news cycle that values exclusive "information" over verified facts, and reality television, which will appear in future installments of this list.

Of course, it's not every day that you get to watch a bag of Jiffy Pop soar majestically through the air like some kind of large bird like an eagle or something. It's right on the tip of my tongue. Oh yeah, Falcon. That was my first clue that the kid wasn't really in the balloon. Well, that and the use of my eyes to visually acquire information about the size and shape of the balloon, which then sent the information to my brain to process and send a signal to my mouth to say "WTFuck?! You're seriously trying to tell me there's a kid riding in that? Where? Does he have Saddam's WMDs with him? Is he riding on an invisible unicorn under the balloon?"