Love ya, Samantha Harris, but if I hosted Dancing With the Stars, you could join Tom Bergeron on some deserted island snuffing torches. My cohost will be Carrie Ann Inaba. She’s sexy, she’s lippy, and I think we’d make a good tag team. Judges…you’re gone too. Sorry, but it’s just too damn hard to understand you through all the accents. The new ”judges” will be the audience. I’ll have a giant hook, and if the audience doesn’t like ya, they boo and you’re gone. The last couple left faces off against me and Carrie Ann. I grew up in Kansas. I can dance. Bring it.
If I hosted Survivor, first I’d make sure that I Q-tipped my dimples, because you don’t want stuff collecting in there. Then I’d ask for less direct sunlight and much more spray tanning. Here’s the thing, though…I don’t like camping. I don’t like having sand in my shorts. So my version of Survivor wouldn’t actually go to any place difficult. It would be at one of those Canyon Ranch Spas. Challenges would be like ”How long can you stay off caffeine?” Or ”We’re gonna withhold salt for eight hours! So go plot or something!” Meanwhile, I’d be getting my second steam for the day and a Swedish massage.