It's 2 AM on Monday, slash that--TUESDAY--and I may or may not have been out drinking. I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation. Thank GOD for Spellcheck or this post would be a hot mess.
Maybe it will be anyway.
The topic for today is "guilty pleasures." So I'm going to take this moment to discuss...
America's Next Top Model.
I want to be Ebony. I want to have hair extensions that make me look like I am dressing up as Cher every day. I want to be confused as to why people think I am mean, since I can't help the fact that I am superior. I want to hide my insecurity about my teeth by saying my look is just my model-pout.
I want to be Victoria. I want to view every evaluation as an attack, and respond by personally insulting the judges. I want to constantly inform everyone I am far too smart to be a model. I want my final round in the competition to come to a glorious end because I cannot, during my final photo shoot, properly emulate the spirit of a cactus.
I want to be Bianca. I want get a bright red $19 weave, then enter a televised modeling competition, and have the nerve to look into the TV cameras and say "Don't let the red hair fool ya. I can do couture."
I want to be Heather. I want to scream at my roommates when they are in the shower, because I "called dibs" on it and that gives me the right to always, always go first. I want my fury to temporarily make me find my inner lesbian, and climb in the shower with them. And generally speaking, I want to make a habit of losing my mind while everyone in the room, including myself, is totally nude.
I want to be Sarah. I want to pull paper out of my nose and think it's cute. I want to be encouraged to be as fat as possible, even while I am forced to pose for modeling sessions while wearing body suits made entirely of fishnet. I want to be cut from the competition mainly because I am the only normal one in the cast and of course that's no good for the show.
I want to be Ambreal. I want to give names to all my different types of "signature walks." I want to cry every time I see a camera near me, as I know that will get me edited into the show. I want to insist, whenever I make it to another round in the competition, that it is not because the producers want to create drama--it is the work of Jesus. Because yes, Top Model is that important.
Hilarious!
I want to be Miss Jay. I want to show up to work looking like a train-wreck but still be perceived as an authority figure. I want to have big ol' lips so I look like I'm perpetually pouting. I want to have a growing afro wig every week so I can emulate my inner chia pet.
I want to be Willi Ninja so I can look down my nose at all these tired bitches 'cause he knows Pepper LaBiejah worked it harder than anyone even after she lost her feet to diabetes
But you don't want to be Lisa? I definitely want to be a fish-eyed, long-legged former stripper with a Long Island attitude. Or, well, why not. And yes, I miss Ebony, too.
i want to be jade and come up with my own works of poetry. than spin circles at dinner parties/commericals.
I want to be Mr. Jay. I want to have the most perfectly symmetrical face and flawless skin that even obviously fake dyed hair looks good on me. I want to be in charge of things without having to spend a day sitting at judges tables with the amazingly self-absorbed tyra (whose name doesn't deserve to be capitalized). I want to rock it without trying, even while standing next to people in couture who have their hair and faces professionally done.
I want to be Twiggy. I want to be a model from 40 years ago, best known for her anorexic figure, who comments on the weight of 18-22 y/o model wannabe's. Although, I'd be embarrassed to be the boring replacement for the crazy bitch who made the show fantastic in the first place.
I love your blogs!!!! Good luck Dan :)
I want to be Tyra. I want to be so self-absorbed that I don't realize everybody from Joel McHale to Miss Jay is mocking me, publicly or quietly.
I want to ignore the rest of the world because, goddammit, I can see myself in the back of this spoon!