4/12/2009

Fabulous Yacht of Fashion...of Love

While watching VH1, aka the “Broken People Channel,” I have often said that I would be a shoe-in on any of the dating shit shows we like watching. I think this because I’m not an idiot, I think I’m at least moderately attractive and I can make pancakes, hook up a sound stage, and hurdle floating beds, at the same time. A dream I had last night, however, tests my confidence:

I’m on a helicopter with 8 glittery-titted sluts. Seth Rogan is flying, which would be terrifying if this were real life, and the challenge is to jump from the helicopter onto a yacht, sponsored by Tresseme Professional Hair Care Products. After the jump, we swim to the yacht and get our next challenge. And remember- tonight is elimination!

So in walks our Ray J/Bret Michaels/Bachelor, Marc Jacobs, who I have never even seen a picture of, but in this dream, he is strikingly handsome and wearing a kilt (since that’s springs must-have piece for men). Seth Rogan stays on as his Brandy who will obviously hand out passes or something tonight at elimination.

In the library (as if my competition could read), we are presented our challenge: to pretend we’re schoolgirls and present our best argument to get out of detention. Of course, we all interpret ‘schoolgirl’ as if it’s Halloween. And while other girls writhe on the floor sans panties in a puddle of bisexual tequila, I try to impress Marc Jacobs by balancing a stack of books on my head and reciting the Obama inaugural address. I feel this is a better strategy than trashing my competitors because Becky “Buckwild” has already shanked two other chicks and I may be next.

We don’t find out who won the challenge yet, because there needs to be the prerequisite solo date. On our date, Marc Jacobs and I sit in a hot tub surrounded by tubs of cool whip, which Seth Rogan is somewhere salivating over. Marc told me that he thought my ass looked immaculate in my skirt, and I look at him quite plainly and say, “aren’t you gay?”

He replies, “uh, I’m an American fashion legend. Of course, I’m gay. I’m fucking fabulous.”

And then we make out, I wake up, and eat copious amounts of candy in celebration of the resurrection of Christ.

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