I don’t really know how to write this post. I’ve delivered plenty of bad news before (what the hell do you think a recap is?), but nothing really prepares ya for this, so I’m just going to jump right into it: TrashTalkTV will be shutting down at the end of 2018. After December 29, there will be no new posts.
And that really blows.
I don’t know how to properly eulogize this site, how to put into words how weird and wonderful and wicked it was, how it took the ground chuck of baseless reality show bovines and turned it into a transcendent reality recap prime rib. But I’m going to try.
TrashTalkTV was born a poor black child. She spent her childhood days dancin and singin and smizin fir the juuudgez across the Tiny Miss Terror Tots pageant circuit of Upper Middle Northern Eastern Central Mississippi, her mother making ends meet by extreme couponing and constructing all of TrashTalk’s costumes in a broken down Toyota Tercel. The family boasted the largest stock pile of Piggly Wiggly generic two-ply toilet paper in the whole county! TrashTalk eventually won a scholarship to a fancy boarding school on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, where she first honed her ruthless Bitch Skills by inventing a social hierarchy of castes as defined by color of headbands, and spreading teenage pregnancy rumors about anyone who dared cross her. Including the principle.
She attended Arizona State University, but soon dropped out when – upon seeing an amateur video of her screaming in a bar in Puerto Vallarta – a talent scout recruited her for Booze Beach, a reality show centered around a coed cast of over-tanned, over-sexed, and over-served hard bodied college students. She made a name for herself in a seminal episode about a UTI she contracted at a bar during an all-you-can-drink 8 am pancake breakfast. Her performance on the show later landed her a position on Slut Cove: Cayman Islands and later Slut Cove Paradise: The Girls Have to Bang Each Other This Time, where she quickly earned a spot in America’s hearts as the nation’s preeminent villain. But fame was not kind to TrashTalk. Within two years she was broke and destitute, and deigned to work the morning shift in Lisa Vanderpump’s first licensed gentleman’s club, Scheanna’s She Hole. A pilot for another reality show was optioned, with TrashTalk as the second-billed talent, but never panned out.
But it was at Scheanna’s She Hole that TrashTalk met a “gorgeous n’ juicy” (TrashTalk’s words) retired football player named Hutch. After trampling over the drunken efforts of 15 other strippers vying for Hutch’s affections, the two shared three beautiful, inebriated nights in the Venetian Las Vegas. It was there Hutch proposed, and 94 minutes later they were married. 14 minutes later, the marriage was dissolved. Five hours later, they signed on to produce Lovesky & Hutch, a very poorly-titled VH1 miniseries focused on their whirlwind second wedding. They moved to Garfield, New Jersey, in a big house that Hutch bought on “credit” (which was a fancy word for “34 expired Blockbuster cards”) and was constructed entirely from marble and recycled Crocs. They popped out four precocious daughters (Farfalle, Tagliatelle, Rigatoni, and Bucatini) and finally, one boy (Cruise). TrashTalk opened a boutique in the local strip mall named Going Out Tops, where she sold nothing but leopard-print coats for chihuahuas. The town was very confused.
Finally, one day, HOLLYWOOD CAME BACK A-KNOCKIN, and TrashTalk landed herself on Love & DubStep New Jersey, where she enjoyed a turbulent six-season tenure throwing furniture, opening and never settling lawsuits, defrauding the IRS and several other government institutions, making best friends with the writers of US Weekly, and occasionally – when she was bored and sad and drinking red wine in her basement – interacting with the writers on this site through a little app called Twitter.
Today, she got run over by a bus full of younger, prettier things, and now she is dead. Rest in Peace, you confounding, magnificent monster.
In all seriousness, TrashTalkTV was sort of all of those fantasies I just vomited out into a text box, and so much more. It on its own was just a text box, waiting for someone to creep into the circle and say something nasty. To get the party started. It was born of the ashes of TVGasm, led by our fearless king Ronnie “FlipIt” Karam, and hosted some of the funniest, brightest, most vicious voices on the world wide web. It entertained a bevy of clever commenters who got into the most insane fucking fights about CHILD DANCE INSTRUCTORS (and also, ya know, contributed really hilarious, insightful commentary of their own). The most incredible thing about this site was that it was (sorry to use a cliche) by the people, for the people. It was as organic and authentic as the shows it eviscerated weren’t. It had a philosophy of auditioning its talent – largely fans – and paying them in nothing but the opportunity. And in turn, its writers were giving of more than just their wit.
I’m sorry, but do you have any idea how long it takes to write a recap, put screencaps in it, and still retain enough sanity and moral fiber to be a gainfully employed adult in the real world? TrashTalkTV’s talent were angels fallen from grace, and for that we owe Heaven a huge restitution.
As a recapper, I feel like I can speak for all of us when I say that it was still worth it. It was still worth the amazing input from commenters, the feeling of camaraderie that none of us have anything nice to say, so why don’t we sit at our own little table. That’s what TrashTalkTV was.
So, on a personal note, thank you TrashTalk. Thank you Ronnie. Thank you readers. Thank you Mom, for reading all my content and submitting nothing more helpful than “I don’t get it. You curse too much.” Three years ago I auditioned for this site at probably the lowest point in my life. And by the grace of god (who is Andy Cohen – he has payed Lucifer dearly for that right), I was blessed with the chance to be a HORRIBLE FUCKING HUMAN BEING ON IT. And you know what? Life started to get better.
Cady Heron once said: “Calling somebody else fat won’t make you any skinnier. Calling someone stupid doesn’t make you any smarter… All you can do in life is try to solve the problem in front of you.” And I guess Lindsay Lohan was right. Being mean on the Internet never made me smarter or prettier or more successful. But it did solve a few problems, if only for a while.
And besides, where has that advice ever gotten Lindsay Lohan.
Goodnight, everyone, and thank you for reading. We love you.
This post will be updated with more love notes as we may get them from our writers, along with information on where you can find your favorite recappers in the future.
Real Housewives of Melbourne, Secrets & Wives, Ladies of London, Fargo, I am Cait, Real Housewives of Potomac, Real Housewives of Dallas, TrashTalkCeleb, various
Hey guys! I’m trying to build a site for all my future stuff but in the meantime that might just mean my Tumblr (link in bio). You can find me on Twitter @Babylego. SMELL YA LATER.
HTGWM, iZombie, Agent Carter, Blood Sweat & Heels, Lucifer, Scream, The Affair, TrashTalkCeleb, various
I was a longtime reader before I got up the courage to answer Ronnie’s call for recaps. There could be no better home for a sarcastic writer who loved bagging on celebs news, teens soap shenanigans and finding any and all excuses to work dicksmack into paragraph. Not only did working for TrashTalkTV give me confidence as a writer but I was lucky enough to write alongside brilliantly talented and fucking hilarious writers. Ronnie gave all of us a place to snark freely and built a community of amazing and engaged readers. I loved bagging on characters and speculating about plot points in the comments with everyone. Out of all the recaps I wrote my two seasons of Scream were my most favorite. Not many watched that nightmare of a show but the people who read my recaps and hated on it with me in the comments will forever live on in my dead, black heart.