I am addicted to reality shows. Not all of them, mind you, and not addicted like an addict is for crack or a fat kid is for cake, but nevertheless, craving my reality show goodness.
My plot of choice?
Take X number of people who all want to (become the next American Idol, Top Model, fashion designer, Top Chef, or favorite dancer in America). Put them through sometimes painful audition processes, make them jump through 5 page 'applications', and then shove them in a house/apartment/mansion/shack on the beach to build camaraderie and allow us to hear "I'm not here to make friends" a million times.
I want to be one of these people. But only for about 5 minutes.
As a rather talentless person, I cannot sing, I dance like a spastic hamster, the last shirt I made looked more like an...I don't even know, it was that bad...and I burn Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. Oh, and I'm really short and rotund, so modeling is definitely out. That does not mean, however, that I can't dream of one day joining the ranks of....that guy from "So You Think You Can Dance", or that chick from "Top Chef".
And as long as they keep airing these shows, I'll keep watching, ignoring my own lack of talent as I laugh at Bob's ability to sew a proper hem or Joe's forgetting to salt his food. Because what is reality TV for if not to make us feel better about ourselves? Barring that, pointing and mocking is always good for a laugh or two.
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