Deja vu

People love watching TV. I don’t. I have my girlie movies I watch all  over again and this is pretty much it. However, I try to keep up with what’s trendy only to have a goss starting point with my girlfriends. They are all into reality shows, so I have to remember at least the names of some so-called celebs. I know all the Shores ones (Jersey and Geordie) without watching too many episodes. I memorized them in between the beeps. How on earth did they get to such a high audience? Honestly, only God has the answer and he doesn’t seem to share things with me…anymore! And then there are the Hills and Laguna Beach chicks. I know them as well, not quite by name, but I can recognize which blonde is the nasty one and which is the one engaged to the weirdo. I also have seen some of the Kardashians girls in action. I told you already that my girlies want me informed and I don’t want to be the dumb one out of my crew. I sometimes wonder how much money these reality shows starlets are getting paid. Loads, I guess. Therefore, I am thinking of putting together a proposal to all of the producers, one that would make their hearts sing. What about shooting a reality show in my house? For free! There are so many things happening in my home that even the Kardashians would look nothing comparing to me. Plus if they want to show their audience a person who can suck in many areas, then no better place than my place! I also have the wardrobe, enough make up for at least 10 seasons, the heels are here as well; they don’t have to spend a cent on me. I have Hendrix, my puppy, he can do stuff that no other dog alive can and that would make even Marley look like an angel. We don’t even need rehearsals. Everything live and on impulse! So I am thinking of inviting some of the en vogue producers to spend a day here, with me and my ad hoc crew. You may know me, but you don’t know my girlfriends! Believe me that after an hour they would be delighted to sign a contract with me. 

Now, you are my kind of peeps, so it would be just fair to give you an intro. Just pick a day, any day of the week. They all look the same to me. Wednesday? Fine. 5am, me, wearing a pink mini skirt and pink shoes (I almost forgot the sparkly stars on them), pink headband with some unknown flowers on it, training a big guy, I mean bigger than the biggest, muscles all over the place. He’s fine with my look. I kind of made him a national champ. While the session lasted, Hendrix chewing my metal rubbish bin and my only car key left while Max, the senior dog, vomiting all over my deck. Then morning tea time. Me making a coffee, nice and black, and pouring it into Hendrix’s bowl. By the way, he enjoyed licking it, but I didn’t enjoy staying awake the whole night while he jumped all over my bed…and face. That was after Hendrix swallowed a whole pack of Panadol (I didn’t even know I had pills in the house; maybe he bought them). At least he didn’t have the headache I had after realizing I cannot drive my car without a key. I tried; it didn’t work! Then me again getting text message after text message until my vision got blurry and replying to my evening massage client the nasty and dirty text that supposed to be for one of girlies. Big oops, lots of apologies! In the meantime, Hendrix digging out completely a fruit tree and carrying it into the spa area. Just for fun! Then me again getting locked in my studio and forced to break a window to somehow get out while Hendrix, now the master of the house, making pieces my 1.5m metal lamp. At least it wasn’t pink! In the meantime Max eating the whole 5kg bag of dog food. But my best time that day was the one when I locked Hendrix in my car and forgot that I have no car key left. I told you that Hendrix already eat it. So, Hendrix in the car chewing my driving wheal while I watched hopelessly the whole thing disappearing. 

 Don’t worry, guys, the language was even more colorful than the Osbornes' one and it went on from early morning to late night. So you tell me now. Would you prefer watching all those false blondes and their stories or would you prefer a natural blonde going live and doing what normal people don’t? Once again, I am blonde, I can act dumb if you want me to, I have the dresses, make up and heels, I definitely can have the dirty language if Hendrix wants me to and I don’t have to put any effort into shooting the reality show. It just comes naturally; it is just how every day looks for me. The only thing I haven’t decided yet is the name of the show, but I’m sure that the producers would find something exciting. I told you I don’t need to get paid so if they cannot find a remarkable name, they would be able to pay somebody smarter to get it right! :)

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