After fighting the urge to watch Honey Boo Boo, I gave into it while cleaning one day a few months ago. An episode was on my television, and I found myself physically unable to unglue myself from the monstrosity. Soon after, I tried to get nearly everyone I knew, or at least those that had a mocking opinion I would appreciate, in on watching such a tumultuous train wreck.
And now I just can’t stop.
Maybe it’s the rate at which Alanna’s waist circumference increases due to being allowed to inhale cheesy poofs and redbull, or that I love the live texting my mother and I do throughout the show voicing our current levels of disgust, but I just can’t quit the house of Boo. I even accidentally encouraged my boyfriend Austin to watch it with me. While he will watch it and pretend he hates it, he is very specific about the fact that he cannot eat while watching such a travesty, because he nearly dry heaves every time. But! During every episode he brings up what is maybe the best question ever:
WHAT DO THOSE PEOPLE SMELL LIKE?
I don’t want to debate the scent of the children. Mostly because they are kids, but more so because I already made a rude statement about the size of Alanna’s waist, and I try to limit the amount of times I allow myself to inappropriately pick on children.
That said, I have no shame with guessing that June smells like a strain of MRSA and a Pilot gas station bathroom made sweet love and produced the scathing aroma that has to be her funk.
Despite her appearing as if she probably smells a little like a carnival, I appreciate that June does seem to be pretty upfront about who she is, Acanthosis Nigricans and all, but putting yourself on reality tv, much like writing about your life on the Internet is opening yourself up to scrutiny. Even if the scrutiny is regarding your scent.
But maybe I’m wrong. It has happened before, several times. Maybe June smells like fresh roses or freshly baked cookies, maybe she smells like a baby lotioned infant. Or a used pile of drug needles.