Diary of a Mad White Tween

11 03 2010

In which we take a look at page 61 from an imaginary diary of an imaginary girl who is like, OMG, having the craziest year ever.

***

“blood all over her gym shorts. And Mrs. Pierson is like, ‘Corinne, it’s just your period’ and Corinne is like ‘No way, Mrs. P, it’s not my period.’ And we were all thinking like, maybe it is her period, maybe she’s becoming a woman before all of us but like, in what universe is that even fair? She’s never even been to a rainbow party and all of the sudden she thinks she’s hot shit because she got her period before everyone else? Yeah right. Corinne is such a skank. God.

But then it’s like, totally obvious that it’s not actually her period because we were playing volleyball and because our school is SO GHETTO there were razor blades stuck to the volleyball and one sliced Corinne in the ass because Randy kicked it at her because Corinne and Randy were dating, but then Randy cheated on her and somehow that’s Corinne’s fault. But he was trying to do it as a metaphor, you know? Like he wanted her back, so he kicked a volleyball at her ass. Kind of like lighting a fire under your ass. But a volleyball. Randy is soooo deep. I wonder if he’ll take me to prom? Oh BTDubs, diary, it was totes me that Randy cheated on Corinne with. But like, it doesn’t even matter, it’s not like anything was facebook official. They were so barely dating, it wasn’t even MySpace official. Like, how lame can you get?

ANYWAY. So now Corinne’s bleeding out her ass, but everyone still thinks it’s her period, and so everyone’s just laughing at her, but then it starts to get pretty obvious that either she has a super heavy flow (just like Mean Girls!) or something because she passes out and Mrs. Pierson’s all like, ‘Oh someone call the nurse’ like it’s not even HER RESPONSIBILITY to call the nurse. I mean, hello?!?! What do they pay you for, just to teach gym and not even know what a period is? God.

So she’s passed out and then there starts to be a puddle of blood on the floor and Greg slips in it, but he doesn’t fall all the way down because he’s so flexible from wrestling. Woof, Greg. Wrestling.

But then the nurse gets there and like, slaps Corinne in the face because that’s apparently what you’re supposed to do in these sort of situations and then all of the sudden the paramedics are there and she’s getting oxygen or whatever and she like, wakes up for one second to wave to Randy, like HOW SKANKY CAN YOU BE? YOU’RE DYING, GET OVER IT.

And then they take her away and she updated her facebook later, so she’s probably okay. Randy’s like, totally back in love with her because he’s disgusting. It’s like, you’re the one that sliced her in the ass, Randy. It’s cool that you get how to do metaphors, but if you love her so much, why’d you try to kill her? I guess her parents are gonna sue the school or something, which means she’ll probably go to private school and become a lesbian.

But at least she didn’t get her period before me.”

*****

JOKE ATTACK:

Question: What did the women in the middle ages call their periods?

Answer: The Traveling Menstrual

Alternates: The Red Plague, A Rat Gnawed Off My Insides Time, No Babies to Work the Farm O’Clock

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Themes for Your Convenience

24 02 2010

For when you just can’t think up your own or the deepest you can get to are “kissy face” or “pouty face”, you can enjoy this list of things to yell out the next time you meet up with your hip friends and want to spice up your facebook photography.

Many of these themes also make really good life mottos. Just FYI.

1. Giraffe stampede (you are a giraffe stampeding, you are being chased by a giraffe stampede, you see someone else being stampeded, etc.)

2. You’ve fallen from a great distance but on impact you wake up and it was just a dream.

3. Photosynthesis.

4. Cannibalism.

5. Cannonballism.

6. The Black Plague has affected your neighbors and you can hear their screams, but you still feel pretty confident in the rat traps you’ve surrounded your bedroom door with.

7. You’re OCD and accidentally touched a moldy sandwich.

8. You are a moldy sandwich.

9. Spa weekend and you just got your period.

10. You’ve just pulled what you assumed was a great April Fool’s Day joke, but now Jeff is dead.

11. Arm hair farmers.

12. Ants questioning their day-to-day.

13. You’ve been cast in a movie, but it has a nude scene.

14. You have a dream that your limbs have grown back, but you wake up and they haven’t.

15. Caught in a rainstorm/tornado/snowstorm/regional weather phenom.

16. You finally understand what you are actually calling someone when you call them a “douchebag.”

17. “Douchebag.”

18. You wish your Diet Cherry Coke was Cherry Coke.

19. The embodiment of hypoglycemia.

20. Purgatory.

21. Your hand is in the deep fryer.

22. You don’t want your friends to know that you like the smell of earwax.

23. You stood next to a celebrity for 5 whole minutes and didn’t say anything.

24. Smells like mulch in here.

25. You’re having an allergic reaction to your second favorite food.





First Ten Memories of the Decade

27 12 2009

As in, one memory per year of the decade. In chronological order. Not the most important memories or the best or the worst, but the first thing I remember about each of the years involved.

AKA, a completely arbitrary list, my favorite.

THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND IN…

2000. I graduated from 8th grade in 2000 and I remember that there were 83 kids in my grade (I think), we all had to wear light colored dresses, and that there was a huge debate about whether Vitamin C’s “Graduation” or Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” should be our graduation song. Green Day won because someone could play it on the guitar, but then you couldn’t hear the guitar anyway. Also this one girl got her period and it went right through her dress into a puddle on her chair and it was probably the most embarrassing day of her life, but I think we all learned a valuable lesson about wide set vaginas and heavy flows that day. Also, about tampons.

2001. Freshman/Sophomore year of high school. This was the first year that I kissed a boy outside of a game of spin the bottle (which I continued to play throughout college and really, hope to play for the rest of my life.) It was super awkward. There was a Spongebob Squarepants marathon involved and a day sledding at the high school and a bout of wrestling. A lot of this encounter may explain a lot of things about me, including my love of Spongebob and also my love of challenging people to wrestling matches. I also kissed a boy at New Year’s that year. In one scenario, I stomped on someone’s heart. In the other, I got my heart stomped on. 2001 was a really tough year for several reasons, those included.

2002. Sophomore/Junior year of high school. While doing my six hours of driving to get my license that year, my driving instructor was nuts. He asked if he could smoke while we were driving. We had to stop at a gas station and fill the car up with oil, which it was leaking. We went to another driving school’s course to learn how to parallel park. A car from that driving school showed up, and my teacher was like, “We have to leave. Now. NOW!” He basically got stared down by the other car while we were leaving. Once slammed on the breaks while I was driving and said I had to be prepared for everything (including, apparently, a driving instructor slamming on his breaks). So. Effing. Weird.

2003. Junior/Senior year of high school. I remember very specifically getting my SAT scores in the mail and not being able to add the numbers in my head, so when my parents said “Sarah!” I couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Only when my mom said the number outloud did I realize that a) it was a good thing and b) it was highly ironic/pathetic that I did so well in math and did not have the math skillz to decipher how well I did. It was the start of a lingering suspicion among many relatives and friends that I might actually be an idiot savant.

2004. Senior year of high school/Freshman year of college. Right before high school graduation, a few of my friends and I went down to our shorehouse to have fun. I’m pretty sure my cousin bought me alcohol – first and last time. Over the course of the few days, we were invited to a party at the house at the end of our street. We attended and realized about half way through that it was a party being thrown by a bunch of police officers. Being 18 (or 17 in some cases), we decided it was definitely in our best interest to stay at this party, do Irish car bombs with these cops, and try to coerce many of the cops into taking pictures with us. In true Jersey Shore form, this is not even the dumbest thing we’ve ever participated in down there, but it was epic to our high school lives. Also constituted perhaps the 3rd time I ever drank in high school, which contributed to a very messy freshman year of college.

2005. Freshman/Sophomore year of college. In the spring of 2005, I convinced friends to both punch me in the face and hit me with their car (very low speed, no worries). For getting punched in the face and refusing to tell my RA why I had a black eye, I was sent to psychological counseling and had to explain to the head of housing why, exactly, I had asked someone to punch me in the face. I was written up. I was told statistics about how many women get abused and murdered in Chicago every year. I was told that I should have just used make up if I had wanted to see what a black eye was like. But, I was happy. Also, I have been punch free since 2005.

2006. Sophomore/Junior year of college. The summer I almost died from a mysterious virus a la a House episode. Still got full credit for my internship, despite missing almost an entire month of work – good thing, since I really needed that .25 credit to graduate (PSYCH. Pointless.) My most clear memory of those weeks in the hospital is that I was in the children’s wing despite being 20. And was prescribed anti-depressants that I refused to take for the following reasons – 1. I had not gotten out of bed in a week. 2. I had not had any visitors beside my parents in a week. 3. I had had the blinds drawn for a week. Reasons why I refused to take them: 1. I could not get out of bed because I had an IV in both arms and couldn’t really “move around.” 2. I was in the ICU, where no one besides your parents were allowed to visit. 3. The sun shone directly into my eyeballs if the blinds were not drawn. There were a lot of choice words exchanged that I later regretted. But to be fair, my doctor also said that depression was not really my main problem when they still didn’t know what was wrong with me. Well-intentioned AND r-tarded.

2007. Junior/Senior year of college. I spent my 21st birthday with my best gays at a lesbian bar, where we basically harassed a lesbian named Sherri who very clearly wanted to be left alone. We bought her drinks and got her wasted while getting wasted ourselves. Later, I got shots while on line for the unisex bathroom once I realized that answering “I don’t know” to the question “Are you into girls?” is a surefire way to never pay for drinks at a lesbian bar. Danced with a big black lady named Choppa who proclaimed, “For a white girl, you sure got moves” which remains to this day one of the nicest compliments I have ever received. She wrote her number on a napkin and told me to call her. I did not.

2008. Senior year of college/Freshman year of life. The best party we ever had at Flop Haus was Paul’s and my engagement party. Not only did Paul propose to me on stage at the premiere of all the films we made that year, we later had a totally ridiculous, totally fun party where we even received presents. I believe our friend James gave us 37 cents, and Jackie made us a wedding mix which I lost for a full year, and then recently found in my room. There was a make out contest. There was a dance party. There was spin the bottle. There were a lot of ridiculous pictures and a lot of things that I can’t actually remember, but all contributed to one of the most fun nights of college. In fact, concluded my suspicions that spring quarter of senior year is the only reason that most people miss college; best three months of my life.

2009. Freshman/Sophomore year of life. While working at the video store with Travis one night, this lady came in and talked to us for at least an hour about a book she was writing about a string of murders that had taken place in our town in the 70s. I had never heard of these before, but she insisted that they were all committed by the same person – her husband at the time. She said that he used to sleep with a machete under his pillow, had gone crazy from being in Vietnam, and had tried to kill her several times. All of the bodies were killed using a machete. She was writing a book about it and promised to give us a copy of it, but then did not leave any sort of way to contact her. Super random, super creepy, and left us wondering if maybe she was actually the murderer and was just telling us the story so that we would not suspect her. Particularly after she used me as an example of “exactly the kind of girl that got murdered.” Too bad Clerks exists, because Village Video is ripe for a movie.

Altogether, a good decade.





A Jersey Lady on Jersey Shore, Part One

20 12 2009

Being from New Jersey, born and raised, I have the distinct pleasure of watching Jersey Shore from a perch of experience.

That’s right. I’m not only from New Jersey, I have gone down to the shore for most of the summers of my life. I’ve gone to many different parts of the shore – possibly even Seaside Heights (which is where the Jersey Shore people are and which, if you are a respectable shore-goer, you call Sleazeside Heights) – but mostly, I go way down the shore. Far enough down where you get away from the New York trash on the show. Unfortch, you start running into the Philly trash when you get far enough down, so really, there is no escape from outsiders invading our semi-fine beaches.

Let’s take a quick moment to map it up and see just what’s going on here. Geography up in this mo.

Break it down y'all.

Your “Jersey Shore” key:

Red dots – where these Jersey Shore kids are from. Please note – ONLY ONE is actually in NJ. There’s a big cluster where 3 different people are from Staten Island.

Red X – Seaside Heights

Yellow zone – Safe zone. This is North Jersey proper, aka a good place to be from. Above the blue line is too north. This is the boonies. This is where Weird, NJ type things happen. Below the line is too south. This is where most if not all of the Jersey stereotypes come from – accents, big hair, Bruce. You want to be in the yellow.

Green zone – The ideal sector of the Safe Zone. The pinnacle of Jersey balance. You live in NJ, but not near anything scary, you have enough highways to get to the mall, but you also have trees. Lots of trees. If you need to move to NJ, you need to move in here.

Green line – The part of the shore that it is acceptable to go to. Long Beach Island and south. If Seaside Heights did not exist, keep in mind that these people would end up in LBI, so you will probably want to venture even further south if you can. Remember: the further the drive, the further from New York you are.

Is this stuck up? You betcha. But you know what? For all of the crap New Jersey gets every day of the week, especially now that Jersey Shore is on and not enough people are fully aware of how Not Jersey it is, I think I am allowed to distance myself enough from these people to be stuck up about it. Green Zone, baby. Green Zone.

To Be Continued.





I don’t think I’m that old

14 09 2009

Recently, I was watching the VMAs. Recently being about 3 minutes ago, when I stopped watching them to flip between “Catch Me If You Can” and “300”, both of which I have seen several times and would rather be watching.

I watched these VMAs for a total of about 18 minutes, give or take a few minutes when I did some Twitter and YouTube research to find out why Kanye West’s name was being booed. Which took about a minute – that long because Viacom was fairly quick to remove any and all evidence of this occurrence. But not quick enough to realize that most of America is not quick enough to spell Kanye correctly, meaning that many results still come up for Kayne West + Taylor Swift on the ol’ Y-Tube.

In these 18 minutes, I deduced the following: I am not old enough for MTV to make me feel this old. In fact, I am what used to be the target audience (23 years young. 15 years young if you only look at my face and listen to my voice and flip through my diary). Doubly in fact, I am still their target audience – I enjoy about 65% of their programming, mostly the shows that are one hour in length as opposed to one half hour. Triply in fact, I used to work at MTV Networks, and still enjoy bragging about it and reaping the street cred it gives me among my SAT classes (until it is almost always followed by “You used to work at MTV? And now you teach SATs? LIFE IS NOT JUST FUN AND GAMES, KIDS. But for those oh so precious moments, I am their queen.)

The point is, I like MTV and MTV likes me. But I do not like these VMAs.

I have never liked the VMAs as much as the MTV Movie Awards, which I don’t even like very much. Maybe because I don’t really like music as much as I like movies. But as MTV moves further and further away from music (were you aware of it? I’m pretty sure no one has ever mentioned this fact before) the VMAs are becoming more and more obscure. I would venture to say that a good amount of these videos have never been shown on MTV, maybe at most as a 15 second interstitial between “Daddy’s Girls” and “Fantasy Factory.” I can only assume that the people watching this program have heard about this music elsewhere. I know I have. This Beyonce video? SNL. Lady Gaga? Bars. Drake? Degrassi (if I had known that America was going to take you kind of seriously, Jimmy, I would have made more of an effort to talk to you when I was on that commercial set. Forgive me for assuming it wouldn’t happen. Also, congrats on getting out of that wheelchair. You look brand new!)

Some thoughts:

1. Is Tracy Morgan actively trying to make people forget that he is not actually Tracy Jordan? Does Tracy Morgan exist anymore? Because I really enjoy the fact that he doesn’t and if I could live in my make believe world all the time, I would totally do it too. “Stop eating people’s old French fries, pigeon; have some self respect! Don’t you know you can fly?”

2. Why does anyone like Eminem? I don’t think I have ever seen him smile and even the most hard hearted rappers smile sometimes. If you can’t smile about being a rapper, I don’t trust you as a rapper. Also, he is gross and his songs are not interesting and his voice is like the magnified sound of ice cubes expanding in a glass of warm water, except less picturesque. Parody videos went out with jelly sandals and AOL email addresses. Although I haven’t seen a music video in months, so maybe it is actually really in and Eminem is cutting edge. Oh no… no, that’s not it.

3. I have never really liked Kanye West because he is totally a reverse racist, but white people are too scared that he will find a way to break into their homes to call him out on it. And I don’t really know anything about Taylor Swift except that she is kind of adorable. Basically, I have no real stake in either party musically. But in a non-musical sense, taking the mic from her to say that her competition made one of the best videos ever is the equivalent of Kanye jumping up to the front of the class while Taylor’s trying to make a PowerPoint presentation to say that Beyonce’s solar system diorama was cooler and less boring, if not more accurate. Kanye is 32. Taylor Swift is 19. When you think about it not as celebrity vs. celebrity, but adult vs. kid (generally), it becomes not just rude but vaguely creepy. But I expect that many people are now working on a Taylor Swift/Kanye Mash-Up, so maybe it was all a publicity stunt after all.

4. Was that Jamie Lynn Sigler introducing some category with Diddy? Has she done anything since The Sopranos? WHY IS SHE HERE AND RELEVANT ENOUGH TO PRESENT? Unless it was not her. In which case I have no idea who it was. Which makes me feel old.

5. Muse has got to be resentful of the fact that Twilight is getting them so much play right now. At least, I hope they resent it. Their performance was touted as “the performance everyone will be talking about tomorrow”, despite being a band since 1994 and existing in what I presumed to be the general music sphere for at least 5 of those years. I mean, if I know who Muse is, and I have barely changed my musical tastes since the 7th grade, it’s kind of bizarre that people who are currently in 7th grade are thinking that they have just found this hot new vampirey band. Because I can’t listen to their music now without thinking about vampires and having sex with vampires and getting married so that I can have vampire incubuses break through my womb and kill me and this is suddenly revealing that I read all of the Twilight books but no judgment, no judgment.

But what am I saying? This all depends on the VMAs themselves being culturally relevant. Which Twitter tells me it is, but Twitter also sometimes tells me that things like moonfruit are culturally relevant, so who knows?

——

What did the snotty rapper name his clothing line?

KANYE VESTS

Honorable Mentions: Cane-ye West: A Line for Catholic School Disciplinarians of the West Coast, Kanye Dress, KanYAY! Pom Pom Emporium.





A Day at the Cape May County Zoo

4 09 2009

Today, on the first full day of Shore Time Extravaganza, Telly and I decided to expand our minds, improve our lives, and generally enjoy some wilderness by visiting the Cape May County Zoo. This was also an attempt to improve our life-ruining karma and counteract whatever immoral acts may occur in Atlantic City tonight. (Hookers? Still illegal, unfortch.)

I haven’t been to a zoo in several years, but I was impressed that a small, donation-based zoo had some pretty sweet animals. Notent notables:

– Lion
– Tiger
– Zebras
– Giraffes
– Red Panda
– Ocelot

Zoo staples that were mysteriously absent, possibly eaten by other zoo animals:

– Orangutans
– Spider monkeys
– Polar brrrs
– Penguins
– Prairie dogs

It was a really nice zoo, all things considered, even though I felt bad that most of the animals did not have animal buds to keep them company. Perhaps that was what the suggested donations were for: “Do you have a couple bucks? We’re trying to find a roommate for our Lion.” How boring to be an animal with literally nothing else going on in your cage. The lemurs had buds. The black bear had buds. But only one lion, one tiger, one red panda. I mean geez, you have three alligators and they probably either hate each other or don’t even realize that they are with other alligators and not just a couple of bumpy logs. Why don’t you trade some of your dumber animals (why does every zoo in New Jersey think that they need a “white tailed deer” exhibit? It’s called “my backyard”) and get cagemates for the guys who live in packs in the wild? An extra lion is probably equal to your entire duck pond and a couple of extra sea turtles.

I was nearly struck blind with cuteness when I realized how many types of animals like to spoon. Black bears spooning? Adorable. Lemurs spooning ON A TIGHT ROPE? Dangerously adorable. Gigantic turtles necking? BLEEEHHHHH I just threw up from adorableness. Not as cute? Snakes cuddling. That’s just lazy.

The zoo also featured many, many birds that were allowed to leave their enclosures and walk around. Maybe not a great business plan to let animals in AND out of your zoo. Have you learned nothing from Night at the Museum? You are inviting chaos into your zoo. The guineafowl and peafowl exhibit featured more seagulls than peacocks. Seagulls, you were not invited to be in the zoo. You have no business trying to strut your stuff next to a majestic peacock. Pack your crap and get the heck out. There were squirrels running in and out of the parrot cages, picking up extra parrot food. A chicken had escaped and was chilling out with the goats. I think a fairly important part of any zoo is organization. What does it say about you, the zoo, when you let ducks and seagulls do whatever they want? It says that you are letting the animals control you. Cape May County, you need to man up. Tell those birds they can stay in their own houses, or they can rent elsewhere. Separate but equal, y’all.

Also, the roaming guineafowl and peafowl posed a serious threat to our dear friend Telly, previously traumatized  by a large bird encounter. You know how little kids love to grab grab grab things? And you know how little kids flock to zoos and seem to multiply once they get inside? Yeah, your birds are going to get attacked. Tell them to stay off the grounds.

But, all in all, a very successful day since I got to feed a goat. And heard the phrase, “What is this, the baby petting zoo?” uttered outside of the waiting area for the carousel. You pet those babies, hefty sir. If the seagulls can do whatever the fuck they want, so can you.

——

What phrase is commonly uttered by teenage lemurs to their parents?

LEMUR ALONE, YOU’RE RUINING MY LIFE.

Other acceptable answers: “Does my wide-striped tail make me look fat?” “Stop judging my interracial relationship with this tamarin.”





Television is dangerous, y’all.

2 09 2009

I’m watching “Crash Course” on ABC right now, and it is, admittedly, kind of the best. I don’t mean the best. I mean that it is vaguely entertaining for the 30% of my line of vision that is not looking directly at my computer screen. The rest of my eyes are having a way better time than that 30%, particularly the part that is watching my dog try and stay awake long enough to continue to beg for my brother’s Wynton Marsalis. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m being corrected – it’s pronounced chicken marsala.

But, this 30% of my eyes could be having a worse time. They’re entertained. That’s not the point.

The point is: this show is seriously one of the most dangerous “wooo I’m on a game show!” game shows I’ve ever seen. The basic premise is that they put completely untrained randos off the street (but with dramarama relationships like mother-son! brothers-in-law! best friends! natch.) into racecars and have them drive through obstacle courses and over jumps intended to flip your car and THROUGH FLAMES. All to win 50,000 dollars.

Really? So… I can go on “Wheel of Fortune” and risk – at worst – some mild tendonitis in my spinnin’ wrist and win that much plus some sweet trips. Or I can risk life and limb, drive a car towards what most people would consider an instant death, and only win 50 grand? Yeah right, ABC.

I appreciate that this is what America wants to watch. That part of America that is slightly overweight (let’s be real – more than slightly, according to any recent publication) and probably has a lawn ornament or three. But they are Americans nonetheless, and I won’t discount their opinion, especially since we’ve got some cement frogs in our garden, I won’t deny it. But it seems like a terrible move on the production company’s part to choose games that are so dangerous. Why risk having one of your contestants die (oh hey, didn’t see you there VH1) when they could participate in something just as embarrassing and way less dangerous?

Sarah, that’s half the fun! Haven’t you seen the previews for Final Destination 3D? People go to NASCAR races in order to see the crashes!

No, I get it. I love it. But I can’t say that I endorse it. Some alternatives that are just as embarrassing for contestants, and yet safer for the production companies, the real victims in all of this:

1. P-P-Party. This stems from a idea we always wanted to do in college, but did not have the faculties to perform while drunk and didn’t have the cajones to perform sober. Contestants weigh in. They all drink the same amount of liquid. They go through some shitty obstacle course (or trivia. Or a race. Or twenty minutes of commercial, this is all just filler.) At the end of the show, everyone let’s loose and pees in their diapers. Did I mention that they were wearing adult diapers? They are. Final weigh in. Whoever peed the most in their diaper, wins a million P-P-Pennies. Oohhhh noooo!

2. America’s Next Top Fugly. I don’t want to be immodest, but watching television modeling shows is really tough for me because I can never tell if I’m looking in the mirror or not. Because I am literally so attractive, it looks like the television is reflecting the equivalent of my own appearance. I don’t watch television to see people who are JUST LIKE ME, I want to experience the annals of bizarroworld without leaving the comfort of the couch. There is a reason that I’ve seen almost all of TLC’s programming (Half Ton Teen and The Boy Who’s Skin Fell Off are two of the most uncomfortawesome hours of my life) and it’s because people love seeing people who are way worse off than they are. And people who are way worse off than the rest of us love to go on TV so they have at least a couple months between filming and airing where they get to say “I was on TV” but not have everyone know why they were on TV. Basically, this show is The Ugliest Dog Competition, but for people. Bring me your huddled masses and jiggly asses, says Lady LiberTV. Those old “Extreme Makeover: Plastic Surgery Editions” came close, but the winner of this show is not contractually allowed to get plastic surgery for at least 30 months post-filming.

3. “The Parent Trap” – kind of like “Wife Swap”, except the kids find out that their parents have been trapped somewhere, like those people who fall into holes in the ground set out by their enemies! The kids are forced to fend for themselves for two weeks while their parents remain TRAPPED (except not dangerously trapped, comfortable trapped. Like, chaise lounges and HD monitor to watch what their kids are doing.) We get to see kids either hack it or crack it, the parents learn a valuable lesson about how much they can trust/distrust their children, and children learn that it’s hard to be their parents because they suck. Everyone wins, no one gets any cash, and the chances of running into a brick wall are much, much lower.

You’ve got choices, production companies. You don’t have to endanger your contestants and yourselves every night. You’re better than that. Get back to the source of game shows – not explosions, not possible limb loss, but just great, great potential for lifelong embarrassment.

These ideas are all greater than or equal to the brainrape  “Dance Your Ass Off”, so if you are going to go ahead and greenlight these things, please send my gigantic sized check to my PO Box, kthxbye.

——

Pun time:

What do you call a place where 66% of adults over the age of 20 are considered overweight or obese? (PS – This is a fact according to Newsweek. A terrifying, soul-crushing, embarrassing fact.)

OBESE CITY

Other acceptable answers: American’t-breath-after-mild-exercise, The US-Heft-A, United Shakes of America (also a good answer to a joke about epilepsy/milkshakes.)