One of Those "What a Nice Surprise!" Sandwiches
If I wasn't married, I would pitch a reality television show that somehow involved me (The Simpleton Everywoman) living in a house (or apartment) with Zach Braff (The Adorable Intellectual), George Clooney (The Well-Groomed Dapper Guy), Scott Patterson (The Rugged Ball Cap Wearer Who Probably Sports Dirty Socks), and Will Smith (The Fun Loving Brick House). (Names are alphabetized, which may or may not also be a coincidental order of preference!)
Anyway, the five of us would live together, and the four men would do all of the cooking and cleaning and dancing and such. I would make the occasional sandwich, but it would be completely unexpected--one of those "What a nice surprise!" sandwiches. The winner of the show would be the man who persuades me to make out with him first. I suppose the prize would be a million dollars to be donated to the charity of his choice, along with the joy involved in getting a little Fluid Pudding.
I'm not easily wooed, by the way. In other words, it would take more than Zach telling funny jokes in his underpants. It would take more than George buying a puppy for me and giving me maple syrup hand massages. It would take more than Scott feeding me doughnuts and telling me that he digs scrambled egg baths with short haired women. It would take more than Will walking around and/or dancing without his pants.
Also, Ben Folds will make several guest appearances.
And the show will be sponsored by Double Stuf Oreo and Fat Tire--and we all know that product placement is key!
And I will wear fabulous clothes that fit and make me look thin and ten years younger!
And I will dance the dance of a happy skinny girl who is well fed with Oreos and beer and is about to make out with Zach Braff or George Clooney or Scott Patterson or Will Smith. You know the dance I'm talking about. It's the one that looks all snakey and infectious! Like I'm a stripper, but I'm keeping my skinny Fountain of Youth clothes on!
