If I Were On A Reality Show, I’d Suck

17 03 2008

I’ve often wondered if I were on a reality show how incredibly boring I would be.

People would see me in my Chucks or Crocs staring at two computer screens looking at the clock with a squint (which usually means I’m hungry or want a beer) and answering the phone in my everyday-professional phone voice. (Which is what you do.)

So if I was ever going to be on a reality show I’d think I’d have to be unreal. I think that’s how it’s done anyway so I’d give it a whirl. I would wear a leather bustier and the reddest lipstick you’ve ever seen. I would whip (hah) through my day with a sashay in my hips that would knock everyone out. I hate fighting and confrontation although I’m not afraid of it,  but I guess I’d have to pick some drama/confrontation thing for each episode and there would have to be kissing. Lots of kissing although I have my limits of what I’ll do on television although this apparently isn’t a problem on the latest installment of Big Brother which I’m not even watching this year.  I would listen to bands that everyone talks about although I’d much rather be listening to Miles Davis or Johnny Cash.

I guess I’d wear stilettos but I’d fall on camera a lot. Unfortunately, reality television LOVES women falling about. I guess I’d need to drink more often to make it look like I’m Leona Helmsley or something.

I’d quote novels written by Lynne Cheney just for fun. Crap, I’d have to dye my hair. I’m starting to honestly think the bits of silver showing up up above my ears is kinda sexy. (Naa, I’ll keep it.)

I also would allow Mabel a starring role as the dog who is put upon. Homer would have to be in it but she’s so busy although Ace and Bear would demand to be in every scene which could get complicated with the leather bustier. (Dang. I’ve never had a leather bustier. I guess I’d have to wear a superhero outfit. Yeah, that would work.)

We’d wander the streets of Hootervegas and ask random questions. We’d go to the fainting goat farm and then drink Mimosas. After that, we’d head to the local haunted houses and act really scared although in reality we know that the ghosts dig us (expect this one place here. YIKES.)

Then we would all have one of those moments like there was real bonding when what we really wanted to do was talk politics respectfully and eat sushi. Being Hooterville, we’d probably be made to eat meat and three and have the local folks looking disturbed (you know, leather bustier and all.)

But, alas, I’d hate to be on a reality tv. I’m not much of a narcissist.

Instead, I’d want to do this.


 This would do. Or this.

Man, I miss Weekly World News.

Screw the telly.




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