You think quality TV is “The Simpsons” or “America’s Funniest Videos”.
You still own, admire, or listen to any CD by Madonna.
You log onto the Internet and download images because they give you the same sensation as a real naked woman.
Your Web site features schlock pictures, such as trashy women, but you confuse those pics for “art”.
You take Jerry Springer or “South Park” way too seriously.
Any of your steps towards financial independence involve letters to and from Ed McMahon.
Your knowledge of Native American culture is limited to the games offered at a local casino.
You’ve never thought of Cher as “campy.”
Your idea of “high-end shopping” is charging to your K-Mart credit card.
You give a damn about the Energizer bunny.
You’ve ever missed work waiting on the sidewalk for a special edition of Playboy.
Rosie O’Donnell is your favorite no-discernable-talent star.
Your home is an archive of old TV Guides.
You consider the grocery store checkout’s magazine rack a “library.”
You can’t understand how Nirvana’s songs ended up in the ash heap of irrelevancy like they did.
A redneck has ever criticized you for having bad taste.
You’re not ashamed to admit you like Lilith Fair and you’re not a lesbian.
It doesn’t make sense to you to use “Ellen DeGeneres” and “tacky” in the same sentence.
You really, really love these jokes or you’re really, really offended by them.