Monday, December 7, 2009

Reality Check

I know, I cheeseball title. But it's a total cheeseball topic that we're about to embark on. And other than Tiger, it's the subject du jour. You know, these "reality" idiots. Balloon Boy and Obama Girl. I'm not really even gonna count Obama husband as he's not really worth mention. He just looked like a waving lump of sorts. Let me begin by saying that if for one second, you ever thought to yourself, "Gee, there should be a TV show about me", it instantly disqualifies you. Interesting people are actually too busy being interesting to have this thought occur to them. If you truly, in your heart of hearts, think people should know more about you, then no, we shouldn't. Truly. You have never been more wrong about anything in your entire, sorry life. And you're a big dork. Take Balloon Boy (please!). It's really "Balloon Dad" in question but the whole ridiculous episode can be summed up and referred to as "Balloon Boy". This particularly chafes me as I happen to live in the state in which this occurred. Oh, and I got sucked in. I was watching. And half expecting Balloon Boy to come flying down my chimney at any given moment. We all know how this turned out. Balloon Dad thought the world needed to see more of him and so he hatched this brilliant scheme. I'm not really interested in the life of some idiot with bad hair that lets his kid barf on national television while he goes yammering on. Apparently Balloon Dad bought into the theory that "there is no bad publicity". Actually, there is. It's the kind that loudly announces to the world that you are a complete and utter douche bag and has the potential to land you in jail. Personally, I consider that bad. But that's just me. And then this Obama person. Supposedly she is a socialite/model who wanted to get on the Real Housewives of DC. Now, I'm not much into the social scene. My inappropriate behavior and tendency towards toppling into ice sculptures and winding up partially clothed in fountains dictates that I really should stay away. That being said I'm pretty sure that actual socialites don't want to get on reality shows 'cause um.....they don't need to? Most of the people that I know that have a shit load of money prefer to fly under the radar rather than announce their fabulosity on Bravo. And the model thing? Why is it that if you've ever had your picture taken, you're a freakin' model? Being a skinny blonde with fake boobs does not qualify you as such. Sorry. In this particular case, there is the whole "horse-face" issue at hand. Horse-faces are fine......on horses. If you need to tell people you're a model, you're not. You've had your picture taken. The bottom line is that if you are truly a fascinating creature, fate will find you. The whole desperation of these two incidents alone tells me that I don't need to know anymore about these people. Entertainment is supposed to be an escape from our own miserable existences. I don't really want to spend an hour watching the life you mangled so badly that you needed to get on TV to save yourself. The bottom line is that if you require a stunt to garner attention so that you'll get a reality show, you shouldn't have one. Oh, except for me. I really should have a show. And I'm going to do something really fucking stupid to prove it. Nothin' up my sleeve.....andddd, PRESTO! Stay tuned.

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