Like all reality T.V. contestants, I, too, yearn to die of acute embarrassment. In preparation for my demise, I'll get "real" by being rude. Then I'll apply for a job I don't want with people I can't stand, eat some bugs, lose 300 pounds, marry a loser, kiss a cockroach, bitch slap a roommate, swap husbands, teach my kids to swear, spit and sneer, and "secretly" videotape my opinions of others, while skating backwards, dancing the Macarena, and lip synching the Simple Life theme song. Factoring in the fear of being a survivor, it'll be an amazing race to death.