Laziness Keeps Me From Being A Reality TV Star. The World Rejoices.

Gather ’round for story time, kids: A few weeks ago, the interwebs were all abuzz about this new reality show that is casting called Fandom Rising.

I read the casting notice and thought, “Wow. I’m an attention whore. And it’s written like Star Trek! They marketed things to meeeeee!”

And then I thought: “Would I have to move in with seven people who are almost a decade younger than me/completely unable to function in the real world/too pretty for their own good?”

Probably. I’m old, cranky, and set in my ways. Strike one.

Then I looked at the application: “What angers you more than ANYTHING?” Dumb questions.

“At what would you consider yourself an expert?” Your mom.

“Describe your dream/perfect date (living or dead, fictional or real)” Really? You’re into dead people? You, sir or madam, are a sicko.

This last question is just the worst, as it probably gets tons of really creepy fanfic-like responses about wanting to play hide-the-sausage with Snape, or how sexy Marie Curie would have looked in a thong.

I’m pretty sure I’d end up spending more time filling that application out than I did my last self-evaluation at work, and that thing determines my bonus check. Not to mention the time and effort it would take to make a video. I could easily send them ten minutes of awesome Minecraft gameplay, but that’s probably not what they’re looking for. Strike two.

Still, it looks like some people are having fun with the process. This young lady posted her answers on her blog, hoping for some critiques. I bet they take a look at that picture of her posing on that Millennium Falcon bed (which I would totally do Harrison Ford on) and ask her to pose on it in a more “festive” Leia costume. (Come on, it’s the Jersey Shore people.) Another woman got a phone call from the casting company.

I can’t seen to find any guys posting on their blogs saying that they’re trying out for this, which kind of drives home the point that most girls in fandom love the attention. Myself included. Don’t worry, I’m not going to go on any, “Oh my god, bitches are just trying to get famous,” rants, because, hey, bitches be trying to get famous. Keep at it, ladies.

Also, would I have time for roller derby practice, blogging, podcasting, and all the other awesome shit I do every week? No? Strike three.

Add in the bonus fact that I’m kind of out of MTV’s target demographic. I mean, I only watch three reality shows anymore, NY Ink, Toddlers and Tiaras, and House Hunters International. Nothing about that will ever end well.

So… I’ve got too much going on in my life, and I’m too much of a crotchety old bitch, to half-ass my way onto The Jersey Shore 2: Now With Holodecks. To all my fellow nerdfolk who are trying out, I’m going to quote Han Solo: “Good luck… You’re gonna need it.”