Okay, okay. Whoever WROTE this sign is crossing the picket lines, dammit! |
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I've got strike fever, baby! You go on, professional writers! Go get that four-cent raise. I wish I was able to strike with you, but I write for free. Not by choice, mind you, but, apparently, by ability. No one has found it in their agenda to pay me for my creative exploits, so I don't get to rally up with you all and fight the power. And if you were wondering, hell yeah I'm pissed off that I find myself relegated to blogging for free while someone out there scored big bucks for penning the sequel to THE FAST AND THE FURIOUS, but who am I to call sour grapes? The fact that I drank pickle brine for lunch is nobody's fault but my own. But that's not going to stop me from screwing with you anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Writer, because I hate you for petty jealous personal reasons. It is therefore my pleasure to foretell a glimpse into your near future...
First of all, it can be assumed that television producers will turn this whole ordeal into a reality show. Soon enough, all the stockpiled episodes of network television programming will run dry, leaving only reality television to keep the public entertained and buying the products that feed the company kitty. Flaky reality shows are pouring in to the brass at all the majors at this very moment. Producers already feel their power surging as we the people continue to lap up the unscripted voyeuristic drivel. But the ultimate "Screw you!" to the writers will come when the AMPTP sends cameras down to pester the WGA members.
AMERICAN LOSER will chronicle the struggle of the bottom tier writers as they fight for eighty percent of a nickel. Each week the strikers will be subjected to a series of attacks and harassments, such as fire hosings, urine balloonings, drive-by taserings, and Carrot Top. At the end of the hour one WGA member will be "written off the show" when he or she unknowingly selects and eats the poisoned bagel. Expect Carson Daly or Katie Couric to host.
More? You want it, you got it! Get a load of these upcoming reality shows that I invented with my very own brain!
DATE WITH DEATH!
Someone is murdering all of your favorite celebrities! But who? One by one, a former basketball player, a disco starlet, a "Laverne & Shirley" cast member, Pauly Shore, a Hollywood celebutard, and many more go missing and turn up dead as Dick Clark. With clues abound and tensions high, we follow the killer's trail through Plastic City, all the while checking in on the studio audience, who vote on which faded star has a "Date With Death!" next. Who's the celebrity culprit? I'm not at liberty to reveal anything at this time, but just know that our killer is "Dyn-O-Mite!" Odds-on favorite has to host? O.J. Simpson, of course.
SURVIVOR - RIKER'S ISLAND
Are you jonesing to hear the word shank used as a noun, verb, and adjective? Do you like license plates? How about monochrome tattoo artistry, anal drug smuggling, and steamy shower hook-ups? This one is for you. Contestants are subjected to challenges such as "Dissing the Aryan'", "Ankle Grab Relay", "Eat the Green Meat", and "Solitary with Mongo the 
America's sweethearts are back and, well...pretty damn ugly, if you ask me |
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Strangler" in order to win a choice of either immunity from elimination or a conjugal visit from your favorite 'Friend' cast member. Each week another survivor is voted off the island...in a pine box. My money is on Joey Buttafuoco and Amy Fisher as co-hosts.
CELEBRITY VD CLINIC
Do the math: Kevin Federline + camera crew + former girlfriends = Must-See VD. If only post-birth abortions were legal...there'd be no TMZ. Utopia at last.
Okay, enough about reality television. We've been saturated and bitch-slapped by this phenomenon for the better part of the past decade (It's George W. Bush's fault, I've decided). No, I want to switch gears entirely. I want to talk about REALITY MOVIES. It's the next step, right? And movie production companies are going to run out of scripts easily within the next thousand years, so it's just around the corner.
Now, you might ask, What's the difference between reality TV and reality film? Damn fine question. You probably thought you'd stump me on that, no? Grab some faith, son, for I have all the answers. You see, Reality Film needs to step it up a notch. In Reality Film, the stakes are real. It's not about losing weight, getting along, singing in tune, or cooking bloody risotto. Not a chance. This will be cut throat, literally.
Okay, you got me. There's really no difference, except that it's not a weekly thing, and America can't vote at the end of the show. Well, at least not yet! Maybe if I thought about it for more than a minute, I'd have it figured out, but I'm writing this in a Krispy Kreme drive-thru, and I'm almost at the window.
Nevertheless, here's a few titles to look forward to seeing in the not to distant future:
PAPARAZZI WARS
....A short time ago, in a beachy vacation spot far, far away, Lindsay Lohan made out with at least a dozen guys. Unbeknownst to her, battles raged on the fringes between members of a sacred order, the JERK-OFFS, to snap incriminating shots of her indiscretions.
RAIDERS OF THE LOST SEX TAPE
Here we break into celebrity homes hoping to find tapes of them having sex with each other. You'll be shocked to see what we find! Which cast member of 'The Golden Girl' should be ashamed of themselves? Buy a ticket and find out...
ALIEN (PARIS HILTON) vs. PREDATOR (MICHAEL JACKSON)
I think it would be better if you just let your imagination run with this one. Did someone say dual Oscars?
BEING JOHN MALKOVICH'S ASSISTANT
Aspiring agents and producers vie for the coveted role of Mr. Malkovich's personal assistant. But watch out! Androgynous jester Andy Dick needles his way in to create drama...and hijinks!
SILENCE OF THE SHEEP
The farmer isn't talking, but he's had an extra bounce in his step lately. This film follows a flock of sheep that for some reason seem to always walk funny after Farmer Jed breaks out the moonshine. If fur is murder, then this is rape! No means no, Farmer Jed. No means no.
FOREST WHITAKER
We follow the acclaimed actor into the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company in Times Square and roll cameras as he attempts 
Oh my god! Oh my god! This is like the superbowl to me! |
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to out-eat the mom from WHAT'S EATING GILBERT GRAPE. People will be crying, "Eat, Forest, eat!" for months.
GONE WITH THE WIND IN SIXTY SECONDS
Nicholas Cage, dressed as Scarlett O'Hara, breaks into cars. Not tasty enough for you? Frankly, I don't give a damn.
KATHY LEE AND THE GARMENT FACTORY
Reclusive social misfit Kathy Lee invites five lucky Labor and Welfare officials to tour her clothing factory in Indonesia, where a mysterious crew of tiny workers she calls Franka Loompas (but we refer to as 'children') toil over her products.
THE ENGLISH...PATIENT?
Here we follow several British actors, hounding them for autographs and asking ridiculous questions like, "What's your favorite color?", and "If you could choose any other profession, what would you pick?" Whichever Brit proves to be the most patient against our onslaught of star-worhippy giddy vomitous slatherings wins free dental care for the English orphanage of their choosing.
THE 40-YEAR OLD DICKHEAD
Here we round up all the fortysomethings in Tinsel Town and decide once and for all who is the biggest dickhead of this age group. I've got fifty on Clooney.
THE LORD OF THE FRINGS
Come on. Remember when Jack In the Box used to sell packets of fries and onion rings together as 'Fring'? Admit that you remember this! Well what you didn't know is that our favorite corporate agitator Michael Moore sucked these down like sarsaparilla, and now he's on a nation-wide campaign to bring them back to the people. He hunts down clownish CEO Jack from coast to coast in this minute burner.
JUNEAU
You think teen pregnancy is funny? Wait until you witness the plight of Alaskan girls in trouble. With bitter cold and nights that last six months long, can you blame them?
BOY TOY STORY
Here we follow Madonna to document the ravages of age and fake British accents.
TRANSVESTITES
Fearing stiff prostitution laws, the Phallobots, a quirky race of Hollywood Boulevard cross-dressers, descend on Nevada in search of a better fate. Unfortunately, the Disrespectacons lie in wait for them, making public restroom choices the least of our protagonists' worries. Truly more than meets the eye with this one... "The Transvestites! Old men in disguise!"
And many more! Such as:
THE NIGHTMARE AFTER CHRISTMAS
LIVE FREE OR MAKE ANOTHER SEQUEL
THE WHORE WHISPERER
THE WIVES OF OTHERS
PEE-WEE'S BIG MISADVENTURE (XXX)
WE ARE MARSHALL MATHERS
DUMB & DUMBER & TORI SPELLING
EDWARD ECZEMA HANDS
Honestly, I could probably do this forever, but I'll let you think of a few for yourself, then relay them to me through a DIGG post (please?).
Okay, I'm at the donut window.
Can I get a dozen Boston Creme...?...Yeah, custard filled, whatever. Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about!...Don't piss me off, man! You won't like me when I'm pissed off.
And as for you, Reader, go watch a proper, scripted movie, before they're all gone...
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Every other Tuesday
I'm pissed off because you're NOT pissed off. That pisses me off. What else pisses me off? Piss off! Or read this...
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| Jay Ashkinos |
I am an undousable spark; I swear at people in Olde English; I am a phone number on the bathroom wall; I'm shorter than you, but I can kick your ass; I cry at beauty as fervently as I do with sorrow; I have a piece of paper that says I'm smart, yet I lock my keys in my car twice a year. Go figure.
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