If you enjoy watching sociopaths with ties to the various branches of government that are juuust a little bit too close to make their shenanigans seem like harmless fun, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you like misogyny disguised as “gentility,” “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you like hearing the descendants of slave-owners brag with zero self-awareness about their families being in Charleston since South Carolina was a colony (not 24 hours after “12 Years A Slave” won Best Picture at the Academy Awards), “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

Semi-related: if shows featuring non-white people in the main cast bother you, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you like a cast of men who all look like the guys who turn out to have murdered their girlfriends in Lifetime movies, including a disgraced former state treasurer who went to prison after he was convicted of distributing cocaine while in office, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

Related: if you like rooting for a rich white guy who was indicted on felony drug charges while holding public office, and yet still believes he has a second chance at a political career, to mount a comeback while never acknowledging the enormous amount of privilege and wealth necessary to even attempt another run for office after being so disgraced, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

Also related: if you enjoy the sight of the same man telling a caller during a radio interview that he “served his time” when he was only in prison for less than a year on FELONY DRUG CHARGES, and who later regales a woman with the stories of all the recreational sports he was able to play while incarcerated, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you like men who look like Chuck Bass if you squint and who are in love with their mothers, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you are interested in learning more about one of the descendants of John C. Calhoun, who apparently held a job as a Senate page where she earned the illustrious nickname of “Senate Barbie,” “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you enjoy seeing a white male law student tell his boss to expect him to be late to work because there’s a party and “[he] feels bad because everyone is expecting [him] to be there, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you like seeing a pretty, capable and clearly smart woman cheerfully pronounce that in Charleston, your lot in life is to get married and have babies while merrily shaking her head as she ponders the dearth of suitable men who are available as potential husbands, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If your idea of fun is watching a man indicted for distributing cocaine while serving as state treasurer tell someone that “personal relationships” (and not, say, “committing federal crimes”) have always been his “Achilles heel,” “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

I can’t emphasize this enough — if your idea of a solid hour of reality television includes watching a convicted felon bring a descendant of John C. Calhoun a post-coital cup of coffee while wearing a bathrobe fit for the finest suburban dad, “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If you like watching the poor man’s Chuck Bass advise the convicted felon that his reputation as a womanizer might be a liability when running for office, only to have the convicted felon respond with “TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE…’that’s Macbeth‘,” “Southern Charm” is the show for you.

If, as a conoisseur of reality television, you feel betrayed by Bravo for offering up such a boring, dumb, clichéd assortment of the American Southern elite — if you expect more from the network that typically brings you hot, pristine garbage like “Below Deck” and “Shahs of Sunset,” vote with your remote and re-watch season two of “Vanderpump Rules” instead. To thine own self be true!

(FYI — that’s from Macbeth Hamlet.)

(…I’m preeeetty smart).