The Secret Life of the American Teenager makes me want to throw up

If you have seen The Secret Life of the American Teenager you know exactly what I am talking about. The new ABC Family wannabe teen melodrama that is so focused on sex, in all capacities, that it makes you glad you are no longer in high school, especially the made up high school created in the ABC Family world. The show follows the lives of a bunch of random kids at a high school in The Middle of Nowhere, USA. Think of all the stereotypes you would find in a high school and you pretty much have the entire cast of this show (minus the parents).

The main character is a band nerd turned pregnant teenager who becomes pregnant because she sleeps with the bad ass drummer (yes in the band, because the percussion section is apparently the only outlier of the band nerd spectrum) who likes to sleep with everyone possible, including the school slut (who apparently is really smart subverting the slut stereotype), who purposely kissed the star of the football team in front of his girlfriend who is a God-loving, promise ring wearing cheerleader. To top everything off, there are parent characters. One played by Molly Ringwald, queen of 80's high school flicks. The parent storylines are as incestuous as the teen character storyline. Molly's husband's ex-wife is married to the prego girl (Molly's daughter)'s doctor, who is promise ring's father. There are some other connections also, but it doesn't matter.


The entire show prego girl complains about being pregnant to her best friends and hides being pregnant from her family and boyfriend. Each episode feels like an after school special telling me I either better wear a chastity belt because band nerds who don't get pregnant, or if you do sleep around with everyone, who won't have any friends. Each episode ends with the same schpeel with someone telling you about how teen pregnancy can be preventable and all that jazz. This show constantly tells you how bad sex is, what will happen if you have it, and if you aren't careful, your parents will make you go see a psychologist to deal with your sexcrazed needs. Remember these good ole days of freshmen year, because I sure don't. Band for me was filled with, well, music and at high school I talked about, well, school stuff. I guess I am just not normal.