I’m about to make a horribly shameful admission here on my website. Yes folks, I… watch… Oxygen’s… “Bad Girls Club.” Ah, it feels good to get that off my chest. Sure, I have probably killed off more brain cells in each hour I watch this show than in all eight of my 21+ years of barhopping but damn, after a stressful day of crappy job, the economy sucks, no football, so on and so forth, it’s nice to watch a bunch of vapid bimbos whine about who’s prettier and how much their boobs cost. Takes my mind of the miserable day-to-day grind, ya know?

The show is stupid and silly but there are moments when it becomes downright cringe-inducing and each and every one of those moments come whenever Whitney aka “Boston” opens her mouth with the phrase, “This is how we do it in Boston!”

Oh. My. God. Please. Shut. The. Hell. Up.

On tonight’s episode, Whitney and a fellow roommate beat up another helpless roommate. She then proclaimed, once again, that “this is how we do it in Boston.” Ugh.

I think I speak for all my sistahs when I say, no, that is NOT how we do it in Boston. Whitney most certainly does not speak for me.

To be fair, I’ve had my share of stupid girl fights, albeit I was 15-years-old at the time. But even at 15 I never fought with a girl who was so obviously weaker than me merely because she annoyed me. And, I would never announce that I “throw fists” after cameras for a national television show captured me pulling hair.

Also in tonight’s episode, Whitney stated that in Boston we don’t like Minnesota people. I’d like to publicly state that I love “Sota,” as K.G. affectionately calls it. Duluth, what what!!

Worst of all she’s from Lynnfield. Yes, THAT Lynnfield. LYNNFIELD?! I think the roughest neighborhood in Lynnfield is on the fifth hole at the golf course where all the Canadian Geese congregate. Most people I know from Lynnfield drive through my neighborhood with their windows rolled up and their car doors locked. I’m just saying. My mom lives in Lynnfield and one morning, my boyfriend and I were socioeconomically profiled in the local Dunkin Donuts. I kid not. It’s a funny story but I’ll save it for another post.

Thankfully, Whitney was thrown off the show and not a moment too soon because if I heard her spew “Boston” and “How We Do It” one more time, I was going to gouge my ear drums out with my knitting needles. Peace was restored and it will only take us a few months to live this embarrassment down. I’d love to see Whit Whit prance into my old bar in South Boston and start spouting off about “Boston”. Now, that would be entertainment.