|
After watching the finales of“My
Big Fat Obnoxious Fiancé” and “Average Joe
II” I’ve decided I want my own reality show. Seriously.
It’s no longer enough to vicariously experience the fun
and frolicking that goes on during these fantasy fuckfests
- I want a televised fuckfest of my very own, complete with
a vulgar, over-decorated mansion, a hot tub built for 12,
and all the rippling wanna-be actors the network can scrounge
up for me.
To make my show work there needs to be some hard and fast
guys -- I mean RULES. I’m certainly not just GIVING AWAY
a million clams to some blindingly gorgeous hard body that
makes half-assed promises to be my boyfriend and as soon the
cameras stop rolling, so do the compliments and manufactured
emotions. Nope. My hunks of manmeat are going to have to WORK
for the million. And I mean work hard (if we were in the same
room right now, you’d see that I’m winking).
First of all, I’m not setting my bachelors up in some
grotesquely chic frat house where they can gorge themselves
on hot wings and play Halo on Xbox between semi-scripted interview
segments. They’ll have to survive on the beach BELOW
MY LAIR in nylon camping tents from Walmart, with nothing
but a pocket knife, some dental floss and a tube of Astroglide
(The Astroglide is for starting campfires!) If they want food,
they’ll have to earn it through a series of grueling
feats of strength and/or submission that I’ll watch via
closed circuit TV so I don’t have to venture down to
the beach and mess up my hair.
Second, I'm getting pretty tired of the vague, subjective
choices recent bachelorettes have made – choices based
on “amazing connections” and “unbelievable
chemistry." Not on my reality show. Every week I will
utilize concrete, quantifiable justifications as to why I
invite certain suitors to my rose petal-covered bed and send
others into reality show oblivion (The Today Show). I’ve
developed an elimination system in which points will be awarded
or subtracted for performance in the following categories:
Compliments:
Strategic use of the words “beautiful," “gorgeous”
and “unbelievable” will garner bachelors one point
each with bonus points awarded for guys who can work in “goddess”
or "sex-a-licious" without sounding like a used
car salesmen or, as in the case of the Average Joe's, like
goo-goo-eyed virgin wusses. Contestants will lose points for
use of the following words: “connection",“super-terrific",“soulmate”
and “journey." Now that I think about it, anyone
who uses the word “journey” is so loser bus bound
he won’t even make the opening credits.
Sentence Structure/Grammar:
Anyone who has suffered through a reality dating show is all
too familiar with the verbal atrocities that run rampant among
the pilates-and-tofu-obsessed crowd. Whether it's tripping
over monosyllabic words or just staring off into the distance
in an effort to look deep and thoughtful, it's not gonna work
here. Each complete sentence including a subject, verb and
pronoun will win the speaker a point. Compound sentences are
worth two points and dangling participles are grounds for
immediate disqualification, unless you impress me with a quick,
albeit obnoxious joke about what else you got dangling nearby.
And it better be impressive.
Groping:
I think we can all agree that groping plays a key role in
the success or failure of any televised relationship. Perhaps
the most crucial element to my reality show is good groping
form displayed in the hot tub/night time swimming segments.
I insist upon the obligatory (and profoundly romantic) moment
where my suitor either offers me a massage or playfully tosses
me into the shallow end of the pool and then makes out with
me between fits of giggling and heavy breathing, while whispering
suggestively that we need to give the cameras "a really
good show." Scenes like this are pure magic for the audience
who are left to wistfully wonder, "where are their hands?”
It’s hard to see under water. 10 points to winner.
Hot Body:
When you come right down to it, who really gives a crap if
the contestants are a bunch of grunting, neanderthal dumbasses
if they have six-pack abs and an ass like a bowling ball?
For a well sculpted torso I can forgive just about anything.
And I mean ANYTHING. You’re an uneducated, philandering,
crack addict with a penchant for child pornography? That’s
ok, sweetie. Let mama look at your tummy again.
So…ok…I think you all understand. In my own reality
show, it's not really about the brains or the sensitivity
or the pearly white teeth or even the bank account. Whoever
has the best abs wins.
It's just crazy enough to work. Media Whore has spoken!
email: comments@bobfromaccounting.com
|
|
Above:
Reality show creator and judge, "Media Whore".
Below: Unfair, pre-determined winner of Media Whore's reality
show
SEND THIS ARTICLE TO A FRIEND!
|
|
