A Blogger's Reality Show Pitch

A Blogger's Reality Show Pitch

Dear Executives of TV Station That Used To Play Real Music:

Hello! My name is Katie and I am a blogger.  I am also a student, a dog owner, a former high school class officer, and frequent ousting Mayor of the Quarry Taco Bell on Foursquare, but I feel that my life as a blogger would be the most interesting to your increasingly distractible and vegetative audience.  Assuming I would be blogging full-time when not attending sexy parties involving glow sticks while the show was being taped, I thought I should give you a glimpse into my life as a full-time blogger. I can make monotony interesting!

I wake up at the crack of whenever my dog sticks his butt in my face (Eleven? Noon? Depends on if he needs to pee. Or If I do.) and immediately show my social networking prowess by scanning Twitterific on my iPod Touch under the sheets for twenty minutes.  In order to showcase the variety of ways in which I might tell people about the super scary dream I had last night, I might switch to my laptop which is not a Mac because I don’t want to be one of those people. I peruse my RSS feed which is mostly populated with web comics and celebrity gossip. I check Google Analytics to see if an ISP from Omaha, Nebraska accessed the blog again, because that means my mom read my latest entry.  I’ve already checked Twitter, but I want to surprise everybody by checking it again. Refresh. Refresh refresh refresh. Your audience will be impressed by my persistence.

My first big daily hurdle is pants. I usually clumsily flop onto the floor, tripping over the dog stairs at the foot of my bed, and head straight for my vast collection of Cheerios, vehemently refusing to re-pants myself. I understand that this might be a little risqué for your viewership, but I can assure you my gangly gams and frequent unexplainable gigantic bruises on my thighs (bloggers are not known for their coordination) will be more interesting than sexy. Like watching those shows on TLC about severely deformed people. Sure, the man with an ear growing out of his chest has his shirt off for the majority of the episode, but it makes is go “huh,” more than “ooh!”

I will probably remain pantsless for the next few hours. I find it enhances my creative capabilities. Now the magic happens: I put my laptop on my desk and curl into my computer chair. I have to write a blog. The formula usually goes like this: think of something from my childhood. Now think of something that is kind of scary but also kind of funny. Now put those two things in a weird place. Voilà! Instant blog! Rugrats + Freddy Krueger + the Super Bowl.  Corn dogs + roller coasters + Simon Cowell’s basement. Pink sweat pants + a bear with three legs + the Uptown Rainbow. I’m going to get dozens of hits! DOZENS!

I briefly consider texting one of my fellow bloggers for some inspiration, but realize they’re probably doing something way more important, like “working” or “making out with sexy local celebrities.” I go to the store to get some paper towels and toothpaste. I stop at Burger King along the way and realize the most exciting part of my day will probably be this fountain Dr. Pepper. Water coolers everywhere will be abuzz with talk of which positions I sat on the couch in last night.  (“You mean she had one leg tucked under another leg for a while, and then picked up the top leg and propped it upright on the other leg?! ) Or perhaps my ability to hold a half-eaten burger between my teeth whilst typing and only getting a little bit of ketchup on my shirt will be what your viewers are most held in suspense by. Is it going to drip? Will she notice the ketchup in time and lick it off? You’ll just have to watch to find out!

Obviously no reality show would be all that interesting without some fabricated conflict. I’m going to need a frenemy. I’m leaving this up to your producers, because I’m far too weak-willed to have a frenemy of my own. She should probably be super pretty, and really bitchy. Blonde, please. With big boobs. And she dresses like her boyfriend broke into a sorority house and stole some clothes for her. She is a blog competitor of mine, maybe for a blog called OH MAH GAWD or STUPID BETCH or So Much Prettier than You. She can come visit me, and we can get into cat fights. Hair pulling, shirt ripping, the usual shenanigans. She can get mad at me because I don’t know how to apply eye liner, and I’ll get mad at her because she stole my last three boyfriends. The only difference being that afterward you’d have about twenty minutes of footage of me crying in my bed and trying to think about how to blog that fight without coming across as a total wimp. It’s just the sort of plot twist nobody’ll expect.

Sure, it’s not a glamorous life. But what do you think your demographic really wants to see? Five hellish housewives whose only normal relationships are with a scalpel? Fourteen tatted dudes competing to see who can be the least douchy by the end of the season? I could bring a welcome bit of normalcy to your network. If you want to spice things up a bit, I’d be happy to pick up an Adderall habit. Or start cutting myself. So get back to me about this, Previously Was a Music Channel, because if anything it’d give me an excuse to shower earlier in the day.

Katie Sisneros exaggerated very little of that.