Here's a "candid" picture of Mom getting ready for a dumbass real estate TV show. The hat and sunglasses indoors look pretty stupid. She forced me to smile for some Roblochon cheese. I'll do just about anything for some Roblochon cheese.
Mom's career must be making its final death rattle because she's agreed to do an episode of HGTV's House Hunters. The show is coming to Nice, France, Europe to film a bunch of expats here in their new hundred year old houses.
The idea of a film crew coming in here and rearranging all my furniture to make it look like we don't live here yet is so fake. Then they'll put it all back and Mom and Dad will talk about how fabulous everything is here in Nice, France, Europe. What the producers at House Hunters should film is all the endless complaining Mom and Dad do. Then it might actually be a real reality show.
I might have to bite somebody unless of course...they give me some Roblochon cheese.
Incredibly, Mom's agent called from Hollywood last night. It was on speaker phone, so I heard the whole boring thing.
Mom: "So I haven't missed anything earth shattering, right?"
Mom's agent: "No, it's been pri....tteeeee dead here this summer. There hasn't been anything life-changing, it's real quiet."
Mom: "Then it must be REALLY dead for me if it's dead for your teenage clients."
Mom's agent: "Oh, it's not dead for them but things should be picking up for your type as soon as you get back. Lots of good stuff coming up...lots of good stuff."
I know what "lots of good stuff" means in Hollywood. It means that Mom is going to have to spend hours memorizing pages of ridiculous lines and then leave the house all day to meet with idiot producers who then tell her agent that they loved her but wanted someone more famous than her for their crappy TV show.
I'm going to go and sit in front of the fridge, where the Roblochon cheese might fall out if Mom or Dad opens the door. I'm positive that one of them will give me some before we go to the beach today.