Unless it involves sports, I generally have no interest in celebrity gossip.
While many of them are talented and deserve to be recognized and compensated for their natural gifts, a majority of them do absolutely nothing more than get paid for acting like idiots who got a lucky break.
But unless you live under a rock—or with the Unibomber, who should have directed his mailings to several of those tabloid celebrities—you can’t escape the coverage.
This got me thinking—how am I not a celebrity?
I don’t want the fame, but I do need the fortune.
The obvious answer is because I don’t have shockingly good looks, boobs or any skills that would warrant me fame and fortune —minor details, of course—but when you see some of the “celebrity” stories, they’re really not that different from me.
So while I avoid discussing politics like the plague—in fact, I would rather discuss the plague—I am launching my campaign to reach celebrity status so I can represent the “normal” people.
Here are my qualifications:
Unless you’ve won something like an Oscar or a gold medal, chances are you’ve failed at something and kept on going. Well, a majority of celebrities have some “incredible” sob story that they swear “made them who they are today.”
“She grew up without high-speed Internet, her parents got divorced and she still managed to write song lyrics on the back of cocktail napkins before leaving the bar!”
“He wasn’t recruited by NBA scouts until his junior year, meaning he had to actually work while attending classes he was taking on a full-ride scholarship!”
Yes, Famous People, some of you have overcome incredible odds. But guess what? That’s kind of real life, and when you twist normalcy into some weird saga for sympathy, it leaves most people rolling their eyes so hard they pull a muscle .
So I pledge not to share my sob story when I become a celebrity (mostly because I’ve already done it on this blog for the past two years.)
Many celebrities have small little dogs.
I have a little dog.
In fact, he’s smarter than most of the celebrities out there, so if I can’t cut it as a famous person, maybe he still has a shot.
Celebrities need to quit complaining of exhaustion. I know they work a lot, but they get paid a lot. I also work a lot, but I do not get paid a lot. This means that when I’m exhausted and can barely lift my arms to get out of bed in the morning—every morning—I still have to go to work and not the hospital.
So when I become a celebrity for a yet-to-be-determined reason, I will already have this “exhaustion” thing down and buck the stereotype by taking a tropical vacation instead. This frees up medical personnel for real sick people and instead employs the services of young tanned gentlemen paid to run suntan lotion on my tired back.
I do this for you, my people.
Like many celebrities, I already duck the media and paparazzi in an effort to maintain my privacy—or just not show off the fact that I forgot I had a Velcro roller in my hair or broccoli in my teeth.
However, when given the go-ahead to ham things up, I’m all about the spotlight. If elected, I promise to continue to ramble on and wildly gesticulate when given the cue to perform and throw things at people who try and get a shot of me when I’m unprepared.
Read Between the Lines
I wrote a book that sold a few copies.
Snooki and Paris Hilton are both best-selling “authors.”
No further questions, Your Honor.
Like the blog? Buy the book.
Every campaign needs a solid running mate, so I’m currently screening applicants. What “celebrity” qualifications do you bring to the table?