hit by a school bus...a short one none the less

i know it's been said before, but reality tv has really wore itself out. some of these titles really make me think. there's "who wants to marry my dad," "paradise hotel," "average joe," and others along those lines. if some of the show titles were changed to "who wants to marry my toothless uncle fester," or "fleabag motel" i don't think that too many people would apply to be on them. but what's the difference anyway? it's all the same. people sell themselves out to be on tv and fall in love with someone that they have known for a month or so. and for what? they win a prize? who the fuck cares. you just embarassed yourself in front of millions and preached about how you fell in love with bob or andrew (the bachelor for those of you who live under a rock). so, no prize could compensate for my humiliaiton that i objected myself to. and becoming the new bachelorette would not help to ease the pain of me being a dumbass and falling in love with a gump named bob guiney. if this really was reality tv, the shows would be much more realistic. here are some of my versions of some reality tv shows and the real prizes that someone could win.
1. "who wants to be my baby's daddy?" many men, or not, compete to care for a trashy girl and her seven children that she has no idea who they belong to. the winner, if the guys even stick around this long, gets a cheap apartment in the projects and a case of malt liquor.
2. "the frat brother." (a take off of the bachelor) a frat brother gets to go on dates with ten chosen sorority girls. dates include: throwing empty kegs off of the frat house roof, games of scrabble with obscene words, and a pizza and beer chug relay. the frat brother chooses one girl that he will spend 4 nights with, until the slutty sorority chick finds someone new. what does he win? herpes.
3. "afro island." this show documents a bunch of white people who are dropped off at an island full of african americans. (let me say here that i am not racist, mmmkay?) the white people need to try and keep their "cracker-ness" and not turn into a total eminem. those who manage to keep their pants above their ass crack and listen to country by the end of the voyage, win the ultimate prize. the white people win: (for ratings and humor benfits) a slap in the face by rick james, a full night of lil john saying "okay," "yeah," and "what" right in their ear, and a fifth of hennessy. if they are still white after that, god bless them.
with minor changes to the reality tv line up, i think some of these new reality tv shows will portray reality well. if you have any good ideas for tv shows, leave them in my comment section. maybe if there are enough ideas, we could send them to FOX and CBS and see if any get picked up for next season.

i haven't been to the bar to go dancing in a while. i had forgotten how some of the girls dress and what drunk people really look like when you are sober. now that i work at a bar, i observed some outfits/behavior last night. first, all of the girls dressed the exact same way. they all looked as if they walked straight out of the pages of an abercrombie quarterly magazine. they all wore frilly little (i mean LITTLE) spring colored skirts and tank tops. now, don't get me wrong, they all looked cute, but they also looked like they were mass produced. now, when a skirt is so low that it barely covers the start of your butt crack, and it's so short that you see their outer labia hanging out of the bottom, it's time to either a)buy a bigger skirt, or b)buy a skirt with more fabric to it. everyone at the club has seen what a naked female looks like, so we don't need further anatomy lessons by seeing your lack of clothing that you wear to go out. now drunk people are really funny when you are really sober. don't try to buy alcohol when you still have red "X's" on your hands. if you are too drunk when you got there to realize that "X" means no, and you think that you might trick someone into selling you alcohol, then you are obviously too plastered to consume another beverage. and i have to hand it to the white guys for the "worst dancing ever" award. alcohol definitely does not increase your ability to wang chung, so don't even try it. and finally, girls with enormous breasts, please use support before entering the dance floor. a simple nipple tassle is not going to hold up your huge rack. when you go and bust a move, your tits decide to bust out of your top. your dancing isn't pretty and neither are your stretch-marked udders.

one final note: i did see a pair of fake boobs last night. first, they looked like a crappy tit job, because breasts aren't supposed to look like snow cones, and second, you can tell they are fake when the girl is dancing and moving but her breasts are not. dead giveaway.

i had a terrible dream last night....i mean treacherous. it went something like this. as far as i remember, i was in my kitchen with my mother and we were talking about how i should break up with my boyfriend, donald trump. i am not kidding, this guy was in my dream. first of all, i have no real life infatuation with him, so i don't know how he invaded my dream. second, i didn't think that subconciously i was that big of a gold digger to actually even think about dating donald trump. and for some reason, the term "blow job queen" was used in the same dream...don't ask me why or how, but i was stunned. this dream was so disturbing, that i had to wake up and vomit. well, not vomit, but i probably could have if i tried. but aside from my dream, i was thinking today where i might be in ten years. then it hit me, i know exactly where i will be. i will own a hot dog stand that i will parade on a busy new york side street, while being followed by a litter of homeless kittens. that just gives me so much to look forward to, and know that my shitty central degree will serve as something...a napkin for my cola. where will you be in ten years?

while i was watching my 10 minute fill of the pistons game, i realized that we have an official backstreet boy on our team. i don't know his name, but i do think that he is number 31. what a panzy. he has bleach blonde hair, along with gaged ear lobes. while all of the other guys on the team are big, black, and tough, number 31 is sitting on the bench, humming along to "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)."

well, much to my surprise, or not, jennifer lopez was married once again on saturday. i may be the last person in the world to find out, but i think it's crazy that she had broke off her wedding plans not 6 months before her marraige to marc anthony. and not to mention that marc anthony was divorced from his wife for less than a week. does this strike anyone else as not normal? this just goes to further prove my point that marraige these days is a joke, and as kitty foreman has said on that 70's show, "you people change partners more than square dancers." everyone knew it was coming, too. it's not every day that a man gives you a multi-million dollar ring just for shits and giggles. you you know marc anthony was gonna nail her. all of the celebrities are happy for her and saying that this may be her soulmate. did they forget that she supposedy had 2 other "soulmates" before this that she married? well, j.lo is just going to call off this marraige like all of the others, and find another hollywood loser to date. my bet is that she is going to start seeing that guy who played the sherminator in the american pie flicks. he seems loser enough right up there with ben affleck. oh...and what day is it? well, it's 6 more days until you petofiles can get your grubby, jerk-off infested hands legally on the olson twins. maybe until then, you can watch all of the seasons of full house, and remind yourself of how gross you are. or, you can go and see their new movie and feel like less of a perv. but i doubt it.

the praying mantis. this creature is very intriguing for the fact that it has a strange after mating ritual. for those of you who don't know, the female praying mantis bites off the head of the male after they are done humping. if people did this, i think it would make things a lot easier. not necessarily the female biting off the male's head, but vice versa as well. if people could have a one night stand with someone, and then simply bite off their partner's head after the deed is done, then you wouldn't have to worry about calling them a week later out of sympathy. and as for those crabs that you got, your partner would have already been taken care of, so there is no need to seek revenge. it goes with the old saying, "wham, bam, thank you ma'am, now i am going to eat your head." this may seem like a joke, but sex is already considered a joke, anyway. no one takes it seriously anymore, so we might as well humiliate ourselves by trying to bite off someone's head. i think that animals have it right when it comes to mating. most of them just romp around, have sex with anything that has 4 legs, and they call it a day. there is no whining, or turning off the lights when it comes time to do it. they just do what needs to be done, either for pleasure, or for the sake of reproduction. i know that male lions are not only the king of the jungle, but they are players, too. they have sex multiple times a day, and they go through women like toilet paper. but as for penguins, they have to break the animal mating mold. these animals spend their whole life looking for the right mate, and when they find it, they stick with them forever. wow. that's one animal that has seen romeo and juliette one too many times. they are still caught up in the fact that true love actually exists and they have jessica simpson as a role model. no sex 'till marraige. those hopeful romantics need to be sent to the ghetto and look at all of those broken homes, and listen to the stories about how baby daddys left single mothers for white trash teenage girls. then, we'll see if they wait around for their soulmate, or hop on the next best thing and get down to business.