Posted by: nastypen | September 7, 2008

But Will It Be Amazing?

It was almost one in the morning when I got the text from Blas.  The message goes “I hope you will be interested to be my partner at the Amazing Race.”  You see, Blas sent his video and it was played at the first episode of the latest season of Amazing Race Asia.  To quote a friend of mine about my value on these things, “Chong, you are built for reality TV.  You will make it must-see TV.” 

Blas didn’t make it.  So, now, he invites me.  I am sure as hell that I am not qualified to do all those tasks.  So, why bring me?  I’d bring on the rage….with glitter.

I have been invited by friends to be their partners at the Amazing Race Asia.

Years ago, Poocums and I toyed with the idea of joining.  We’d have luggages of outfits and wigs.  It would be great television event to see us dragging our faux Louis Vuitton luggages in dayglo violet Marge Simpson wigs with chandelier earrings and of course fabulous cerulean espadrilles.  Once we reach the pit stop, we’d break out in Christina Aguilera dance moves circa her Dirrty days.  We’d be banned in most South East Asian countries.

So, Blas invites me.  now, Blas is a gym bunny.  He and I are polar in several respect.  He watches what he eats, I watch the food gloriously nearing my face and smile wide.  Blas can be on the treadmill for an hour.  Thank God, I can still be on a treadmill.  He’s Pesco-Vegan (Vegetarian who eats fish).  I am Piscean.   Blas budgets.  I spend.

But both of us are gay with tremulous emotions. So, we’d be perfect for reality TV.  But Asia is just not ready for scenes of me bitching about carrying bricks and I’d rather hurl the bricks at our opponents.  I’d be debating with the Malaysian team to relinquish Sabah back to the Philippines as we figure out a puzzle.   I’d be screaming “Just because I grew up in the third world, that does not make me third world” as they force me to eat Balut.  The sound that comes out on the TV whenever I am on is a tsunami of bleeps.

Blas would lecture me on the merits of eating right.  I’d just tell him to shove celery sticks up his nether regions.  If I can’t finish a marathon, I am sure as hell that I can sustain my complaining for days.  I will always demand for mineral water with four ice cubes.  I’d hit the camera crew if they don’t get my good side.  And I don’t want my T-zone reflecting the sun like the goddamn moon.  So retouches are necessary.

I’d be saying stuff like, “Blas, you do this because Jesus loves you.  K thanks Bye.”

Although it would be great to see the both of us do the shimmy shakes as we sing Kylie Minogue‘s Can’t Get You Out of My Head… deep baritone as we sashay towards that stupid box with the instructions.  Hell, Blas and I can do a dance interpretation of Radiohead‘s Creep just to stun our opponents.

I know I will never win the race, but I will go down in a fashion so extreme that you will not remember who won.

Even I have an idea for a video.  I’d be narrating my few positive qualities as I pose like a drugged up catwalk model.  This video is my inspiration for my audition tape. You can’t go wrong with balloons with plastic plants and windswept hair.

I tell my friends if there is one Reality TV show I will enjoy and shine, it’s be America’s Next Top Model.  Hahahahah.  I can turn on the Ditz button and ask things like “If I pout, should I be sad?”  And if there will be the token screaming match, and I can wag my finger like any fabulous African Goddess Diva.   You know I can smack a bitch down as I pat my weave!  I’d propose a photoshoot in a wrestling ring that’s filled with gummi bears.

Of course, I am just fantasizing.  So, Blas, to answer your question, it’s a No.  I’d brought enough shame to the family as it is.




  2. omg. ituloy mo jose!! ituloy mo.

  3. hahaha! You should join! It’d be the most amazing show ever! =)

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