I have no idea what I'm going to write. Not at all. Right this second, I'm totally winging it. You probably don't believe me. I wish there were some way to prove to you that what you're reading right now is completely off the cuff. Imagine, if you will, a writer's teleprompter. The teleprompter is blank. Empty. And yet, my fingers are tap tapping away at the keyboard. Know why? Because I'm writing without a net, man! I'm totally writing Reality TV style. Just....you know, like, nothing pre-planned at all. This is exhilarating.
I actually had a great time. The show was really bad, but I learned some important lessons last night:
Reality show hosts aren't very real.
German supermodels and Yiddish expressions make for uncomfortable television
To get a bazillion nominations, your show should feature a bazillion guest stars
Emmy winners get really touchy when you jokingly hide a statue under your gown
*Michael C. Hall wants to sleep with me.
A good way to avoid drinking and driving is to have a television network provide limousine transportation
The first designer to make comfortable high heels will make a fortune
Now I'm going to finish up with some work stuff. Wah.
*Michael C. Hill never said he wanted to sleep with me, but the way he squinted at me from across the red carpet twenty yards away, left no doubt that he wanted me.