I don't see why I can't have my own TV show. There are bigger idiots, bigger douchebags out there who have them, or who crash them. I mean, some knuckle draggers don't even HAVE shows and yet, they are all over TV! Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan...ugh. Lindsay Puke-han.
I live a pretty exciting life. I took the dog to the vet tonight. As I was paying the bill, I looked down and there she went, scootin' across the floor on her ass. I tried to get her to stop but she was on one of those industrial rubber mats - it must have felt good because she wouldn't quit. As I eventually shuffled her out of the office, some moron guy chuckled as we walked past. It could have been the dog-ass thing, it could have been my shirt. Or, it could have been that he sucked. Either way, I bet if I had cameras following me he wouldn't have doubted my coolness.
I think society would enjoy watching me eat. I'm pretty good at it. I can eat a whole box of pasta (white, wheat, gluten free, you name it) in like, 45 minutes. Sometimes quicker if I unhinge my jaw. I'm like a magician - now you see the Whopper, now you don't.
I brought home a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts yesterday. There are two left. I live alone. That can't be healthy, but it sure is fun (not to mention utterly delicious).
I enjoy watching both shows on TLC that are dedicated to midgets (Uh, Midget Show One and Midget Show Two). I want a pet midget. I would make it clean under the bed. I would teach it how to swim. When I wash my car, it could scrub up the tires for me. How many times have your socks fallen down and you wished you could call a midget over to pull them up for you? EXACTLY. Midgets are God's way of saying, "If you keep one of these around, you'll never have to tie your own shoes again!" I like God. He's clever.
Or maybe I could be a reality show scientist person. My first discovery will be to uncover how birds can whistle when they don't have lips. And then I'll see if fish ever get itchy.
And now I'm down to one donut. Don't judge me.
No comments:
Post a Comment