America's Next Top Lil Princess

The new episode of my favorite reality TV program debuted tonight. It is America's Next Top Model.

I love this show. I love the bulimia. I love the fighting. I love the cattiness. I love that monstrous half-trans half-whatever Ms. Jay, who is the blackest of the black and who wears high heels and black body suits but has a beard and walks the runway.

I love the part where all the girls get their $200,000 makeovers and then start crying because they can't wear their $18 dollar weaves that they got in some back alley barbershop that specializes in fades.

But most of all I love Top Model hostess Tyra Banks. Ooh, Tyra. I love Tyra and her feigned "caring" for each of the models. I love how she is so down to earth. I love when she gets all ghetto and waves her head back and forth and says, "Girl, you go!" It makes me so happy. I love how on her show she talked about how everyone thought she was fat and how the media is obsessed with being skinny, and how she was considered fat, so that all the little girls at home that are already obsessed with dieting decide that Tyra is considered fat and how they are all starving themselves.

Tyra is great. Now she has her own talk show where she brings prostitutes on, gets them to tell the perverse details of how they fuck and suck, and she is so interested in how these girls can possibly make a living by selling their bodies. Sorry darling, but isn't that what modeling is? A conundrum for the ages.

To dump my naked body on Tyra Banks would be my ultimate cream-dream come true. I have thought about it a whole lot, how I would do it. Fantasies of storming Tyra Banks are the only little tidbits that keep me going in this harsh world. I am currently watching the show and it fills my mind with wonderful ideas. Here is how I'd do it.

First, I'd set up a camera and get the tape rolling. I'd get Ms. Jay, Tyra, and her top models, all 12 of the ones in the beginning. I would lure them into a salon, just like the Nazis lured the Jews into death chambers with promises of a shower, and then bam, they got gassed.

All the Top Model stars would eagerly march into the salon. But the salon would all of a sudden turn into a torture/surgery room. Still, it would be highly decorated and very posh. The barber chairs would become beds with straps and restraints.

Since I don't really want the girls to be in pain, I'd have trained anesthesiologists on hand. They would put each girl under, and I would first shave all of their heads except one, but in different ways. First, I would shave some like natural bald spots in some models. Some completely bald. Some monk-style. This I could do myself, because I'm good with hair and clippers. Almost as good as Ms. Britney Spears.

But I'd need some surgeons. Here is where the anesthesiologists come in. I will put each girl under and have lots of fun with their nipples. I will cut them all off and affix them to Tyra. This will all be under anesthesia, so no pain will be felt. I will put two visible ones on her cheeks so that she will look like a little toy soldier.

A tattoo artist will imprint little pictures of bunnies and where the naked beauties’ nipples used to be. I'd also tattoo a big picture of Michael Jackson fucking JonBenet with a gun onto Tyra's back. That would make a wonderful Sports Illustrated cover!

There's this tough Bronx bitch on Top Model this season. Her weave was falling off at her audition. I would scalp another model and then sew the scalp onto the Bronx-weave-bitch's head. This way, I'd never have to hear her ugly accent complain about her fucking fake hair again.

Next, I'd put all my subjects in cheerleader costumes and put nooses around their necks. Once the dope wore off, I'd make them dance with me to Olivia Newton-John while forcing them to eat as many Arby's Big Montanas as possible. Then they'd vomit and I'd feed them more. The tough cunts would try to talk shit, but they can’t because they'd have mouths full of Arby's horsey sauce and roast beef

The climax will star Tyra, the down-to-earth supermodel with the big forehead. She will be dressed like a toy soldier, with the nipples on her cheeks. I would bring in three Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and have them skull-fuck her with big black dildos while playing Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots were Made for Walking" layered over sounds of deer and rabbits dying through subwoofers.

I would be dressed as Raphael, the red ninja turtle. But I would be dressed as Raphael dressed as Marie Antoinette and I would be all fucked up on Arby's and I would fuck the living turds out of Tyra.

We will then retire to a dining room, where we all be served a lobster dinner. With a side of Kool-Aid, Jim-Jones-style (that's with cyanide for you dolts who don't know who Jim Jones is). Everyone will drink it with the exception of me and Miss Jay. And I will be the happiest girl in the whole world.

These models would all be the stars they wanted to be. They would be in the greatest snuff film ever created. The nooses will be tightened and their limp dead bodies will all be hung for effect. In their cheerleader costumes. I would collect their weaves and make a rug out of them and sell it on eBay for seven million dollars.

I would then remove my Raphael costume and do Tyra face-to-face using a strap-on dildo. I know she likes to get it hard. Pieces of her pussy might fall off. I'll put them in little glass vials and I will sell each cunt-chunk for $300 on eBay.

Miss Jay would survive. And then we'd do a bunch of coke together.

This is my fantasy of the ultimate episode of America’s Next Top Model. I will of course make tons of money off of it and I will promise to donate 25% of it to feed all of the hungry inner-city children Church's Chicken for as long as they live. I will then retire and go into hiding somewhere, getting each model stuffed, so I can have tea parties with them.

One day I will reemerge as a star, and shave my head and get a tattoo of lips on my arm . . . oh wait Britney Spears already did that. Well then I'll drive across the country in a diaper with a meat tenderizer and try to kill an astronaut’s wife . . . oh, wait that happened too.

This world is becoming so crazy. I'll really have to think.