Wednesday, March 10, 2010


Being stuck in LA for the last month has really sent my Bullshit Meter through the roof. I realize that it's only in the 60's here, but it's pretty obvious that the real reason people aren't going outside during the day is because they're afraid their plastic bodies will melt in the sun. The Oscars were this past weekend and I couldn't have one conversation without some nominees' name being dropped (in nickname form, no less). On Monday, I went to a Kings game with my friend and we were the only girls not wearing fake eyelashes, tank tops and six inch stiletto heels. Um, do these whores realize that the game is played on an ice rink? That's cold? My brain needs something that doesn't fit into the "fake" category STAT.

Lately it seems like I'm not even safe when I watch television. Every three seconds there's a new "reality" show that pops up and invades my otherwise pleasant existence. Remember when it came out that the The Hills was scripted and everybody freaked out like someone had just found Moses in an Ed Hardy outlet store in New Jersey? Please. Like any show on TV can accurately qualify as "reality." If I ran the networks, I would make sure that reality shows were actually real. Here's how I would make over the worst offenders:

AMERICAN IDOL: I have the greatest idea ever for this show. While the contestants sing, suspend them over a shark tank. With every negative comment from the judges (especially that asshole Simon Cowell), the rope gets lower and lower. Then, at the end of the night, the contestant that gets voted off gets dropped into the tank and eaten. The crunching sounds, of course, would be magnified by the microphone.

I would totally watch that.

SURVIVOR: There are no actual "survivors" on this show. Does anyone really believe that the producers would let any of their cash cows die of starvation or get seriously injured? Hell, no. I say let these people really "survive"- throw them into a different locale every year. Start off with Harlem, and switch it up. South Detroit, South Central LA, anywhere where you can get shot just for making eye contact. Then tuck the cameramen away in a nice, secluded apartment with a doughnut and coffee spread and let the fun begin.

DANCING WITH THE STARS: On my show, "dancing" means "shoot at their feet so they have to move around a lot to live." Also, the general public would get to pick who would be on the show, and they would fire the guns themselves. Note: I have shitty aim.

THE APPRENTICE: Donald Trump would work for me. I'm a fan of hard labor.

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES: I really don't give a shit about these overprivileged, underworked, egotistical bitches from Orange County and the Upper East Side. Show me the "Real" Housewives of Bumfuck, Idaho that sit around all day watching Maury, eating bonbons and growing their asses out of their trailers. The hour would fly by.

TOOL ACADEMY: The girls on this show would get to beat their boyfriends with actual tools (hence the clever title). The "winner" gets hacked with a chainsaw.

I'M A CELEBRITY, GET ME OUT OF HERE: The contestants are all from my list of Most Annoying Celebrities, and the island is the island from Lost, which no one can find. That way just when they think they get to leave, SURPRISE!- the island won't let them, and they all stay there forever, until everyone is killed by the Smoke Monster for being obnoxious.

THE REAL WORLD: Take seven strangers that have just graduated from college and follow them around with cameras as they try to live in a shitty apartment in a poorly lit area, apply for jobs, struggle with car payments and eventually have to move back in with their parents. So, basically, record the lives of everyone else on the planet that isn't being sheltered by MTV.

Just don't change Jersey Shore. I have a feeling the kids on that show really are that dumb.

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