Given that I provided the history behind poster dicksukha#1’s handle yesterday, today is probably a good day to give some props to another poster, Tdiddy. Beyond providing sexual favors to my mother for months (according to him, at least) he also provided maybe the funniest content this site has ever seen. It may have been overlooked a bit since it was in the comments, so I have provided below, for your viewing pleasure.
Submitted by Tdiddy on 2009/05/15 at 9:24am
I think you’d be great at running your own Reality TV production company. Lets call it C17. Here is my first suggestion for a new show:
Hot Chicks and Homeless Rick (A cross between The Bachelor, Average Joe, and Rock of Love)
20 women compete for the love of a man named Richard who they think is super wealthy. In actuality, Rick is a homeless dude (probably named Smitty). The setting is a mansion in California and the women are all hot, young, aspiring actresses.
1) The women must not use sex to win the competition. They all sign agreements to not sleep with Rick.
2) Rick wins money ($10,000) for each girl he sleeps with.
3) Rick sends one women home each week. At each elimination session he berates the women for not being physical enough or sexy enough (adding to the pressure to sleep with him).
4) Rick has one “save” where he can allow a one night only “extra chance” to win his love to a recently eliminated contestant.
5) The contests for immunity each week are all centered on sex and debauchery. Stripper pole contests, jello wrestling, lap dance competition, etc.
In the end, Rick selects the final girl as the winner and reveals that he is in fact, homeless.
Brilliant. I love it. It’s basically a raunchier Joe Millionaire (although that Evan Marriott looked like he could use an extra shower or two). This did get me thinking about reality shows though; I was envisioning a pay-per-view show FingerFork (described below) a decade before Survivor was more than a gleam in Mark Burnett’s eye. Given the enormous amount of television I watch and/or am subjected to, I’m pretty confident that none of my show ideas are currently on air. But it could happen any day. TV producers – call me if interested!
My Top Three Reality Show Ideas
Close friends can vouch that I had this brainstorm in either 1992 or 1993. While I was thinking pay-per-view, I can easily adapt this concept to an eight week summer program. The competition is simple – eight people are placed at two tables, four on each side, facing one another. Each person has one fork. A starter says go. The first person to successfully remove one of his own fingers (below the knuckle) with said fork wins $3 million. Everyone else gets nothing. No medical care. Nada.
Who wouldn’t watch this show? To make it an eight week event, you have an audition process, whereby you go to several different cities and have people explain why they NEED this $3 million. Bonding through human interest. Empathy via “I need this money to pay off my credit card bills, buy some new rims for the Prius, and implement the forex trading program that I learned about on daytime television.” All culminating in the event itself. And the strategy involved! What’s the best approach? Stabbing? Sawing? The ultimate battle: pain threshold vs. greed! I repeat: who wouldn’t watch this show? It’s possible that it’s already in production over at Spike TV.
So You Think You Can Drink
Competitive eating has become a quasi-legitimate sport. Why not drinking? Everyone can eat, right? But drinking, that’s a skill unto itself; not every jackass knows how to balance his port wine and his warm Goldschläger. This actually pisses me off, because if we lived in a world where competitive drinkers were celebrated, it’s entirely likely that I’m Michael Jordan. But no, we live in a puritanical society where drinkers are shunned and forced to conduct their business in poorly lit drinking “establishments” that generally never have sufficient ginger beer or jello shots on hand.
My show would be similar to So You Think You Can Dance (which is why I so cleverly chose a similar name) – drinkers of all types would audition for a chance to be on the show. As with FingerFork, auditions would be held at all the major drinking cities in the U.S. to pick out 200 potential “America’s Favorite Drinker” candidates. So you’d have to hit New York, Chicago, Annapolis, Oklahoma City, Tallahasee, Chico State University, every city in Wisconsin and a handful of others. Prospective drinkers would audition with their beverage of choice in an attempt to wow the judges and get the ticket to Vegas. One might shotgun a fifth of Jack Daniels, while another might do a three minute red wine bong. Anything to earn the coveted ticket to Vegas, where the 200 semifinalists would be whittled down to a top twenty.
In Vegas, the 200 selected contestants would be put through a series of rigorous drinking tests such as Method Method Shot (“method” is the street name for taking all the ice out of a Long Island Iced Tea and drinking it like a shot – Method Method shot is doing this 2x and then chasing with a tequila shot), Sweaty Lumberjack races, Gorilla Fart quarters and Nonsensical Three Wise Men Challenges (tequila+gin+Jägermeister – repeat, repeat, repeat). For safety, all contestants’ blood alcohol content would be closely monitored, and anyone scoring over a 0.40% would be given a bagel and cream cheese.
Once the Top 20 had been selected, we would pour on lots of back stories (“my momma was drinking straight through the third trimester – I was literally a born drinker”) as the viewing audience would decide each drinker’s fate by weekly voting. Each week would be a different drinking challenge in a variety of genres – gin pong, Everclear tastings, rum kegstands. The bottom three drinkers (by viewer vote) would have to “drink for their lives” to remain on the show. “Drinking for your life” would be a five minute period where you attempt to put your best imbibing foot forward to impress the judges and spare your life for another week. The people of America would decide the ultimate champion by text message voting once the field is narrowed to the final two.
Who would the judges be? Drinking luminaries, of course. One would definitely need to be female. So, how about, Chelsea Handler, my cousin Jethro, and Dennis Rodman? That would be phenomenal. We would probably need subtitles for the judges’ comments, though. If this show gets made, I will likely be the only executive producer/series champion in the history of reality television.
We have all these shows now where some pretty unsung occupations are in the spotlight: chefs, dancers, fertility drug abusers, masseuses, okra farmers, etc. How about a once-relatively-anonymous occupation that now causes shivers of revulsion amongst even the most out of touch Americans? Investment banker – just seeing the letters arranged in that undesirable sequence likely made you dry heave. Yes, this once-noble field has taken one to the gonads due to the whole subprime/easy credit era. As a former banker, I’ve gotta be honest – I never approved a migrant worker making $15k/year for an $800,000 mortgage. (Did I ever help put incomprehensibly overleveraged corporations in largely the same financial dire straits? No comment.)
So this show would have a different level of banker every three weeks or so – there is a definite need to crown the top analyst, associate, vice president, director and managing director individually. Whole different skill sets. For instance, one of the analyst challenges would be to spend 3-5 hours discussing, ordering, eating and digesting a Seamlessweb feast, to be followed by one hour of “work” (checking fantasy football stats, shooting the shit with college buddies on the phone, etc) culminating with pulling off a plausible explanation for being three hours late the next morning. (Contestants must claim to have “pulled an all-nighter” during this explanation)
For a vice president, one of the challenges would be a demonstration of the ability to say “yes” (or substitute affirmative of your choice) when asked for fact-checking backup by a managing director during a client meeting:
Managing Director (to client): “Your competitor Startech went public at, I believe, 7.3x EBITDA – Stanley is that right?”
VP Stanley (who is solemnly look into distance, as if recalling an afternoon fishing with his late grandfather): “Yes, 7.32x EBITDA, that’s right.”
(For the record, I would fucking rule this part of the competition – I had several variations of agreeing response: the momentary puzzled look followed a split second later by a confident “yes,” the casual “yes” with head nod, the quick look down at some papers (that probably had nothing to do with the question asked) and then a “yes, that’s correct” – I could go on for an hour or two, but I may eventually have to work again so can’t spill all my secrets on this public board. But lending credibility to your boss’s potentially made-up-on-the-spot facts by agreeing with them is one of the most important jobs for a banking VP. (That sentence might be a bit of a grammatical abortion, but I don’t really know how to reword it, so hopefully you can sound it out))
For MDs (and to an extent, Directors) the challenges would involve seeing how much bullshit they could take from middle management nitwits at some megacap company while trying to “maintain share of wallet.” Another would be trying to calculate M&A fees in their heads as various deal parameters are discussed over dinner, without access to either an associate or the spreadsheet that breaks down the complex-assed incentive fee structure they negotiated.
After fifteen weeks we could crown the winners of each category at once, and have a fucking sweet-ass deal team that would then put together a pitch on how the producers of Top Banker should totally lever up and buy Hollywood Squares. That would be awesome.
Anyway, I’ve gotta call my hookup in H-Wood, Joe Che, and see if any of this is actionable.
Chilly17, wasting potentially significant potential