Now that one hundred million TV shows constantly vie for our attention it makes sense that basic cable networks have resorted to a truly classic trick: Amazing titles. I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant, Ancient Aliens, Killer Kids, My Cat From Hell, Nightmare Next Door, Confessions: Animal Hoarding, or my all-time favorite, Serial Killer Earth… All are titles that would make any discerning trash lover stop channel surfing and START getting entertained. But even these amazing titles may have been trumped by the TLC series Sex Sent Me To the ER, a sort of hybrid of HBO’s Real Sex franchise and small-town community theater sketch comedy. This show is fucking ridiculous.
Like any good nonfiction basic cable show, Sex Sent Me To the ER is filled to the brim with terrible re-enactments. Better yet, they feature a bizarre mix of paid actors alongside the actual real-life subjects of these genitally unpleasant scenarios, which serves to undercut all the intentional comedy (complete with wacky music) with a dose of undeniable, unintentional awkwardness. Take the best segment of this week’s episode in which an Idina Menzel lookalike grimaces in cornball agony (due to the Pop Rocks fizzling in her vagina) while the real-life attending physician dryly delivers his lines in her general direction.
Who should be most embarrassed: The actual woman who believed that putting Pop Rocks in her vagina would be a sensual treat; the actress hired to re-enact this scenario; or the real ER doctor who agreed to portray himself in its re-enactment? It’s this confusing, whiplash-inducing tone that elevates what could’ve been a trying-too-hard hour of silliness into that sweet spot of Adult Swim-esque subversion. Sex Sent Me To the ER, I’m yours.
While the vaginal Pop Rocks incident ended up being rather anti-climactic (pun never intended) because, spoiler alert, the Pop Rocks dissolved, another segment seemed quite a bit more alarming. A fifty-something galoot spent a night out with the boys and managed to spill numerous shots of alcohol onto his crotch area until the entire front of his pants were positively drenched in combustibles.
keep reading at Gawker