2008 Woodie Awards
Bad Apples
Reality Channel Surfing
Corey Kempf
Issue date: 4/22/04 Section: Fun House
- Page 1 of 1
Man, what a bummer! Who would've ever expected them to figure out that I fabricated those stories? Hold on! Did I just refer to myself as "them?" Holy crap, I've gone clinically insane.
It's been a long two weeks, and I had a lot of time on my hands over Easter Break, so I took it upon myself to celebrate my insanity by hitting up primetime television. I am so back with a vengeance.
On Monday, I ate some zebra testicles on the set of "Fear Factor" until Joe Rogan saw me and started yelling something like, "Hey, those are for the show, how did you get in here, yadda yadda yadda." From there I wound up being chased by three very large men, but luckily I'm rather quick on my feet and in my mind, which helps me duck into dark alleys when police sirens sound.
On Tuesday, I visited "American Idol" and was thwarted in my assassination attempt on that blasphemer Ryan Seacrest for stealing Casey Kasem's Top 40 job by numerous menacing, syndicated cast members of "Law & Order."
I can't remember what happened for the next two days because I was too hopped up on morphine from my psychotic, alcohol-induced, Frankestein-esque voyage onto MTV in order to become Al Pacino I think. Of course, I'm not sure if it was for the better, but if people call me Scarface then I guess it's worth it. Hooyah!
I awoke Friday with a desire to get back to business and make up for lost time, but since it was Friday, I took some more morphine to get me past the countless hours of news talk, weekly "Real World" marathon, and daily Top 100 celebrity list on VH1.
Saturday night I was surprised to find myself being chased through residential areas by the police on FOX because I swore that show with the theme song that also is a movie starring Will Smith and Martin Lawrence was cancelled five years ago. After all, if you've seen one domestic violence offense topped off with a chase through city streets and a side order of police brutality, you've seen them all.
On Sunday, I witnessed first hand the birth of the "Nick and Jessica Variety Hour" and realized that Nick Lachey only got famous because of her and was reminded that his former band, 98 Degrees, was the bastard child of the boy band craze.
So here I sit, back at home in my padded room, surfing through the memories with my remote control, and questioning what I learned from the experience. My conclusion is that I'm far better off in my padded room, torturing the people I've met in a newspaper they'll never read. Have a good summer, but don't go outside; you'll probably just be fired by Donald Trump.
It's been a long two weeks, and I had a lot of time on my hands over Easter Break, so I took it upon myself to celebrate my insanity by hitting up primetime television. I am so back with a vengeance.
On Monday, I ate some zebra testicles on the set of "Fear Factor" until Joe Rogan saw me and started yelling something like, "Hey, those are for the show, how did you get in here, yadda yadda yadda." From there I wound up being chased by three very large men, but luckily I'm rather quick on my feet and in my mind, which helps me duck into dark alleys when police sirens sound.
On Tuesday, I visited "American Idol" and was thwarted in my assassination attempt on that blasphemer Ryan Seacrest for stealing Casey Kasem's Top 40 job by numerous menacing, syndicated cast members of "Law & Order."
I can't remember what happened for the next two days because I was too hopped up on morphine from my psychotic, alcohol-induced, Frankestein-esque voyage onto MTV in order to become Al Pacino I think. Of course, I'm not sure if it was for the better, but if people call me Scarface then I guess it's worth it. Hooyah!
I awoke Friday with a desire to get back to business and make up for lost time, but since it was Friday, I took some more morphine to get me past the countless hours of news talk, weekly "Real World" marathon, and daily Top 100 celebrity list on VH1.
Saturday night I was surprised to find myself being chased through residential areas by the police on FOX because I swore that show with the theme song that also is a movie starring Will Smith and Martin Lawrence was cancelled five years ago. After all, if you've seen one domestic violence offense topped off with a chase through city streets and a side order of police brutality, you've seen them all.
On Sunday, I witnessed first hand the birth of the "Nick and Jessica Variety Hour" and realized that Nick Lachey only got famous because of her and was reminded that his former band, 98 Degrees, was the bastard child of the boy band craze.
So here I sit, back at home in my padded room, surfing through the memories with my remote control, and questioning what I learned from the experience. My conclusion is that I'm far better off in my padded room, torturing the people I've met in a newspaper they'll never read. Have a good summer, but don't go outside; you'll probably just be fired by Donald Trump.