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January 3, 2013

Lately I’ve been watching a lot of  HGTV.

Like. A LOT.

I don’t discriminate between shows. I will watch EVERYTHING on HGTV for days on end. Seriously. All of it, including those crazy-ass Extreme Homes shows in which people who have too much money build stupid stuff. (Okay, there was an episode about a deaf couple who have hearing children and they created a home in which they could all effectively communicate and that was pretty cool.)

Don’t even get me started on Million Dollar Rooms.

The show in which people who have enough money to build a ROOM that costs a million dollars go on TV and then pray they don’t get robbed.

But, because I’ve been watching a lot of HGTV, I’ve kind of decided that I should get my real estate license and then become ridiculously successful by selling a penthouse to Jay-Z and Beyonce (obvs.), which would then land me my own HGTV show.

Because working with Jay-Z + Beyonce = getting a television show. This makes sense in my brain.

On this show I would take adorable couples to their potential homes. I would have perfect hair and a hipster-chic wardrobe and designer glasses. Because. Hello, I’m on TV.  I would definitely be the perky-yet-quirky host, sort of like if Zooey Deschanel showed people houses and looked like me.

I don’t have Photoshop, so I can’t put my face over her face. Just pretend, okay?

But! Being the perky-yet-quirky host who somehow doesn’t make you want to rip your eyes out wouldn’t be my hook.

My hook would be that anytime someone said, “Oh God, I hate the color of these walls,” I would turn into a Rage Monster and be all, “BITCH, YOU CAN PAINT THE DAMN WALLS.” Or when people complained about light fixtures/kitchen hardware/carpet I would yell, “OMG SERIOUSLY. YOU CAN BUY NEW FUCKING DRAWER PULLS. THIS ISN’T HARD.” And then when people were all like, “Well, this has everything on my wishlist, but I just. It isn’t quite right.” I would straight up punch them in the face, rip off my microphone, and storm out of the perfect house that I found for those picky, fickle, no-good sons of bitches.

My show would probably only last for, like, a quarter of a season. Then my reputation for having a ragey attitude and bad mouth would ruin my real estate career, but I’m sure that the ten people who watched the show would think I’m brilliant.

Maybe I’d get syndicated to the U.K., where people tend to like ladies who cuss at and embarrass people. I wouldn’t be upset about that.

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