Ruining an Illusion.

God how I hate finding out how things really work. It really blows a nice illusion.

Like seeing a picture of my favorite lust object in his everyday life - just not the same.

And now my illusions of Trading Spaces are gone gone gone. The Post had an article about it this weekend. I didn't really want to know that Ty doesn't do most of the woodworking, or that theres some guy with pink fingernails listening to disco and sewing all the curtains and pillows. I guess you can make the jump to the fact that the participants have help getting things done - it just wouldn't happen on time otherwise. But to hear that there is a whole staff that assists with just about everything breaks the illusion completely.

I guess I'll have to content myself with making snarky comments about the designs, and laughing at the reactions.

I actually prefer the British version "Changing Rooms". These people don't hold back. They are savage when they think the designers are jerks and if the recipients don't like the result they have very candid responses. One guy said his new living room looked like a whorehouse. Gotta love it.

TTFN.