The Telefile
Trumps Trump Hogans, Kardashians in Trashiest TV Family Contest Not satisfied to exploit every inch of his own being and empire, Donald Trump has resorted to pimping out his daughter Ivanka for a new reality dating show called Date My Daughter. To quote the press release/casting call: "'Date My Daughter,' starring Donald Trump and his daughter Ivanka, features dads helping their daughters find true love, with daddy's approval [Ed's note: PUKE! Any grown woman who calls her father "daddy" needs to quit it. NOW.] Casting producers are looking for socialites [Eds' note: Again, puke.] between the ages of 21-30 years old who are attractive, possess a great attitude and a generous spirit. The dads should be affluent and interested in helping their daughters find true love." Here's a thought. Maybe these "affluent dads" should mind their own damned business and/or explore why they take such an abiding interest in their daughters' dating practices. In therapy.

Aside from the creepy arranged-marriage implications of the show, I've got problems with the idea that this show is based on the real-life dynamic between the Donald and Ivanka. Seriously, Ivanka, who is a former model and high-powered exec, probably does OK for herself in the dude department. I find it hard to believe that she actually goes to her dad for dating device because a) she probably doesn't need it and b)TMI and c) it's not exactly like he has the best relationship track record.

Obviously since no one watches The Apprentice anymore, this is just another stunt to keep the Donald (ir)relevant. It was either that or another messy, expensive divorce. And lord knows some things aren't worth that kind of sacrifice. I've got a better idea for the Donald: Why not submit to a TV make-over and do something about that heinous monstrosity atop your head? Or better yet, lend your name to a deluxe line of hair-pieces for the upwardly-mobile entrepreneur? You could be not just the president, but also a client.

With the spate of recent shows that see well-known celebs soliciting friends and romantic partners -- Brody Jenner's Bromance, Paris Hilton's My New BFF, Nicole Ritchie's untitled project and Brad Garrett's Date Brad Garrett -- one wonders just what the frig is wrong with these people that they can't make friends on their own? Maybe they ought to be getting help from a psychiatric professional rather than a gaggle of TV producers. And while they're at it, perhaps they should explore their unyielding desire to chronicle their every move for TV viewers and US Weekly readers because frankly, and I think Dr. Drew would agree, that speaks to a deep psychosis.




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The Telefile

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