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Why I will no longer be keeping up with the Kardashians

I’ve got an embarrassing secret.

I roasted an entire chicken and watched the Keeping Up with the Kardashians wedding special while in my pajamas when it was first released a month ago.

Yes, I devoured the olive oil-doused skin, hoping that I, too, could get my bedonk to cast nearly half the shadow of Kim’s own money-maker.

And yes, maybe I got a little teary-eyed, but come on; I was eating a chicken carcass by myself while watching celebrity television. It’s kind of like how everyone has a chin hair or two, but no one plucks it in public. You just need to keep some things private.

So when I heard that Kim filed for divorce on Halloween — I wonder if her lawyer had a bowl of candy on the desk — I was mildly invested emotionally. The cantankerous couple had only been married for 72 days, but that was obviously enough for these two soul mates. And after throwing down a meager $10 million into the wedding, they really showed that love does cost a thing: about $10,000 for invitations, $50,000 for his and hers bachelor and bachelorette parties and $50,000 for Kris Jenner’s (a.k.a. Mama Kardashian) facelift, according to the UK’s Daily Mail website.

The ceremony really was beautiful in its own Elizabeth Taylor meets Britney Spears kind of way:  Kim’s three different, $20,000 Vera Wang gowns with a piece of her deceased father’s shirt sewn into each breast; her overdose of diamonds whose value could solve the U.S.’s debt crisis; and the wedding cake, reportedly $6,000, could have its own Twitter page.

If I took that cake on a date I’d look like its haggard backup plan. It would only take me to shady, deserted-looking  Chinese restaurants.

These nuptials were pure business. The Kardashian name has become synonymous with money, and this brown-haired, stiletto-wearing clan is clawing down everyone they can for that extra buck. I mean, have you ever seen Kim without a face full of makeup?  She kind of resembles a bloated Bill Murray after he’s belly-flopped into a pool.

I’m the first to admit that I got sucked into this trashy little slice of America. I guess, above all else, I’m embarrassed I got so caught up in the hype.

Eating an entire chicken by yourself on the couch is bad enough, but watching people dump money into a wedding just to destroy it in less time than a gestation period is shameful.

Whack me upside the head if you ever catch me watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians; I’ve got enough problems already.