PREGNANT IN HEELS RECAP: I WANT TO COMMIT SUICIDE RIGHT NOW

Ok, you guys, I gotta confess: I was so excited when I heard about this horrible, horrible new Bravo show Pregnant In Heels, because I thought: FINALLY! A show I can recap for FIPS! It's about a pregnancy concierge named Rosie Pope! WTF is a pregnancy concierge! Who cares, this show will rule!

But after watching the premiere epi last night, I've been splitting my time between:

• thinking of ways to kill myself
• thinking of ways of destorying every viable egg I may have lurking inside of my body now and forever.

There is no way I can recap this show every week, because you might kill me before I kill myself.

However, since I watched this bullshit, I may as well tell you some things that went on:

Rosie Pope, while fairly unoffensive herself, has this accent that I cannot place and speaks like she has a mouth full of marbles. I mean, I think she's English, cause she said shit like "brilliant" several times, but her accent was so friggin distracting, I spent a majority of my mindshare last night trying to puzzle through it. It was annoying.

However, lest you think Rosie's accent was the only annoying thing going on with this show: THINK THE FUCK AGAIN, PPL.

This show was so annoying, so vapid, and so brain numbingly stupid, I'm pretty sure I coulda killed less brain cells if I just smoked weed all night and watched re-runs of Charlie Sheen's live webcasts.

Couple #1 was pretty much exactly like I imagine I would be if I got preggo (which I NEVER will, but still): they were completely disconnected from the whole pregnancy thing, didn't want all the ugly baby crap in their downtown loft apartment and were fairly overwhelmed by this idea that they were soon going to be parents (and therefore, were completely unprepared). However, since it's obvz totally unacceptable to not be dancing in the streets and tatooing images of your unborn babies on your arms, Rosie brings in a therapist to brainwash them into sitting on their couch and just muttering "goo goo ga ga" back and forth at each other until the bebe comes out. It worked.

Oh, and also: the "husband" in this first couple was TOTALLY gay and basically just switched between his many different versions of baby pink t-shirts throughout the ep.

Couple #2, Samantha and Mitch, included two people I wanted to murder with my bare hands and then feed their remains to hungry lions. Samantha and Mitch felt that their baby's name was all-important (you only have one chance to make a first impression!) and since Samantha was a branding expert, she decided to hire Rosie to help her figure out the perfect name for her future therapy at least 2x per week, and likely a  stint in rehab, child. Samantha and Mitch had alll sorts of rules for the name: it couldn't be "decorative," it couldn't start with an E or a J, it couldn't end in an S. I mean, this shit was B-A-N-A-N-A-S. They bought a fucking baby name book of the top 12,000 baby names and went through EVERY SINGLE ONE.

So then they hire Rosie to put together a "baby think tank" of all sorts of smart, vaguely related to babies people to help narrow down the choices. They came up with Bowen, Tucker, Holden, Miles and Asher.

The couple likes Bowen, but they can't pull the trigger, so then they put together a focus group to help gather additional opinions. Everyone hated Bowen (can you see where this is going, btchz?), and so then they gathered their friends together for a dinner party. And *still* no one is into Bowen.

Well la ti da! Flash forward to the end of the show where they're giving updates on each of the couples and lo and behold, they named the little baby douche Bowen!

Next week is some chick who wants to do a naked, pregnant portrait of herself while riding a fucking horse.

I'm off to go wash my brain out with Four Loko.