Someone get Kim Kardashian‘s doctor on the phone, because it just became clear that there is something very wrong with her. No, not her baby doctor. Hang up the phone with the baby doctor, we don’t need him right now. We need her head doctor, or her life coach or her tooth fairy or something. Whoever is in charge of the thoughts she thinks. Something has obviously shaken loose up in la cabeza de Kimberly, because she’s just announced that she’ll be leaving her reality show Keeping Up With The Kardashians after its ninth season ends.
First of all…nine seasons?? What have you been doing, America? You’ve been watching this for nine years? STOP. Stop watching it. You’ve been giving it spinoffs and searing the names and faces of new Kardashians into my brain, and it has to stop. Put your time and TV-watching talents to other shows, watch This Old House for all I care, but it’s imperative to me that the brains of America don’t become saturated with more than nine seasons of this nonsense. That’s more than enough.
Second of all, what are all these sounds I’m hearing? Is that the tender flappings of little piglets winging across the cloudless sky? Is that the crackling of ice down amongst the hellfires? Is that the click-clacking of Lindsay Lohan‘s sensible low-heels across the stage at her graduation from…anywhere? Kim Kardashian is leaving reality television? But what will she do with her life? This concept is almost too large for my brain to fully absorb. I don’t even know Kim anymore. At this rate she’s gonna reconcile with Kris Humphries and move to a nice cottage in the suburbs to raise her little Kimye baby. Whom she’ll name something without even a single K. You never know, guys, these are uncertain times.
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