Unintentionally hysterical paranormal rubbish and occasional psychodrama from wee Ms. Porter. A show so full of biographical errors, random locations, "orbs" and the like that it makes you wish you could hide on set and jump out screaming at a crucial moment and see Gail Porter become the unofficial spokeswoman for Tena Lady for the rest of her natural.
Best way to watch this show is with a bottle of wine already sunk, the lights off and poltergeist activity of your own on the landing outside your bedroom - you may then be a little scared (or levitating surrounded by Fisher Price toys, depending on your mood).
I wish I could think of something genuinely positive. There have been moments when I've wanted to hug Gail and do v. bad things to her male co-host in one of the rooms at the Roosevelt Hotel but they generally pass. I did actually really appreciate the way Chris could be channelled by a v. p'd off Joan Crawford and yet his hair remained perfect the whole time. Hmmm, maybe it was her.
Anyway, if you find yourself a bit tipsy of a Tuesday evening do watch this show.
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