I’ve been watching TV programs to prepare for my consumerism class. After
viewing the first few episodes of “The Simple Life,” I thought, what
if we invited Paris and Nicole to stay with us in our Brooklyn apt.?
And call it “The Complex Life.” We could take them to the BPC — can
you imagine, like, introducing them to Ange Mlinko? How funny that
would be! And the camera operators would have a ball filming their
reactions to the cockroach colony that lives around our kitchen sink:

I really loved the scene in The Simple Life where Nicole had to check
a cow for pregnancy, so she puts on this long plastic glove and…
essentially… fists the cow. Then, when she pulls her arm out, she
chases Paris around the dairy farm threatening to smear her with
bovine vagina juice! O My God!

Also when the “girls” (as everyone calls them in the show, though they
are in their twenties) put these words up on the fast-food franchise
marquee: “1/2 price anal salty weiner bugers” — we should maybe
invite them to be on the flarf list.

TV sure has changed since I was a young lass.

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