Really?

 

Image

Luke, is that you?

I found this on the San Clemente Patch last week. 

“Reality Show Casting

“Award-winning production company and major cable network are casting for a new series.  

“We are looking for women who have a child and have never told the father, but are now ready to reveal.  

“If you, or someone you know have a child (any age) and for whatever reason didn’t tell the father, contact me at wmotheremail@gmail.com. Include your name, age and a brief explanation of why you are right for this show.  

“Thanks, and good luck.”

Here are three possible contestants

1. My name is Albany Oswego Louisiana. AOL for short, which I am not. I am almost seven feet tall. My mother wants me to go on your TV show to surprise my father, who does not know I exist. She says my father is a direct descendant of Franz Kafka, the author of Metamorphosis. I can see how this would be fairly simple to prove, as my relatives are part human and part fly. No need for DNA sampling, even if someone could swab my gaping proboscis.

Thank you for your consideration.

2. I am applying to be a contestant on your “Who’s Your Daddy?” show. My mother tells me that my father was the attendant at Toll Booth #3, on the Golden Gate Bridge. When I asked her how my conception was possible, she informed me that one Friday commute the fog had stuck like silly putty to the Sunday comics. There was gridlock for five minutes, more than enough for the deed to be done. It would be nice to confirm that this man is my daddy, as he recently won the $650 million Powerball Lottery.

Thank you for your time.

 

3. I have a problem that you might be able to solve. I’m looking for the mother who would identify me as a father. It is a matter of national importance.

This is an election year. I have never married, so I need to debunk those who accuse me of playing for the “other team.” Right now, four Teapublicans are stopping at nothing to unseat me from the United States Senate. I need a woman to reveal that the son she bore nine months after the 2003 South Carolina election night frivolity is indeed mine. I don’t care who he is, even grows up to be the prima ballarina in Ballet Risque do Monte Carlo. Enough said.

In case you’re curious, there are other reality shows in casting mode. So, if you don’t want to find your papa, you could answer the casting call for 

  • I’m Dating My Best Friend’s Ex
  • Extreme Cheapskates Bosses
  • Kids Won’t Let You Date

What say we throw all of them together and create
My kids Won’t Let Me Date My Best Friend’s Ex Cheapskate Boss Who Might Be Their Daddy

 

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