Filling the Void

It has come to my attention that Tyra Banks, the arbiter of all that is acceptable and important in my life, is ending her daily talk show in 2010.

It doesn't matter that I have never, technically, watched her show.  I do watch The Soup, and without Tyra, Joel has roughly 15 of his 22 minutes to fill.  What are we to do?  Where will the American public go for self-promotion and congratulation masquerading as altruism?

Me.

That's right, my friends, I'm announcing that I, Deb, will be hosting the Folksy Deb Show, starting in 2010, or whenever Tyra retires.  I will step forward to lead you through the frightening void caused by Tyra's absence.

I pledge I will:

1. Make every show, regardless of topic, about me.  Example:

Guest:  ...and that's when I found out I have fourteen extra toes inside my intestine.

Deb:  Wow.  That's just like the time I found out Cool Whip wasn't real whipped cream.  I was        DEVASTATED.  (Audience nods and makes sympathetic noises.)

Guest: I had to have most of my lower intestine removed.  I can't eat solid food anymore.

Deb: Exactly.  Life just loses all meaning when you know that dollop of whipped cream on Mom's pumpkin pie is really just a pile of synthetic goo.  (Audience members now wailing into Kleenex.)

Guest: But-

Deb: No, it's okay.  I understand.  We all go through it.  Here.  (Forcibly holds guest to bosom, patting her hard enough to dislodge her glasses.)  There, there.

Guest: Ow.

2. Become increasingly shrill and defensive over every flaw.

Deb: Okay, it has come to my attention that several magazines have published pictures of me consuming an entire bucket of ice cream.  Also, there was a picture of me with no makeup and several tabloids are now calling me "Folksy Zit."  Also, there was the whole mustache thing.

Audience: (Murmuring in distress)

Deb: Today, I'm sending a message.  We're all flawed.  We all eat enough dessert product in one sitting to feed an East Asian village for a month.  (murmurs of support)  We all have pimples so large we count them as dependents on our tax returns.  (shouts of "You go, girl!")  We all have facial hair so dark and coarse it makes us frankly question our identity.  So what?

Audience: (Now shouting in support)

Deb: Well, it stops today!  You know what I say to all of you?

Audience: Say it!  Say it!

Deb: I just said it.  Stop it.

Audience:  Oh.

Deb: I'm sorry I was so harsh.

Audience: (silence)

3. Synergize.

Deb: Today on the Folksy Deb show, we have the contestants from this season of America's Next Great Novelist, the reality show that I host in which I convince beautiful and talented young women that the secret to success is looking constipated but sexy at the same time.

Audience: Yay!

Deb: And we're using the footage of this show for that show, and this is actually a challenge for them!

Audience: Yay, yay!

Deb: And this whole thing is being used for a scene in an independent film my production company is funding!

Audience: Yay, yay, wow!

Deb: And then I'm going to cut an album!

Audience: Wow, really?  You think you can sing?  Just because you have a TV show?

Deb: All right, no album.

Audience: Yay!

4. Become emotional and practice "tough love" when necessary

Guest: Deb, I know you can help me with my severe phobia of dust mites.

Deb: Listen to me.  Stop it.  You have no idea how hard my life has been.  I got a hangnail today right before taping, and did I quit?  Did I stop?  No, I'm here.  Yes, the taping was delayed for two hours while I sat in a dark room with a cold cloth over my eyes to distract me from the intense pain, but I'm here.  We're all here!  How dare you think that your fear is greater than your responsibility to this planet?  HOW DARE YOU?

Guest: Sorry.

Deb: That's okay.  Come here.  (Attempts to clutch guest to bosom)

Guest: No thanks.

Deb: You're afraid I have dust mites in my bosom, aren't you?

Guest: No, it's not that-

Deb: COME HERE!  (Chases guests off the stage)

We'll be right back...