by Larry Lieberman
American Reporter Humor Writer
TAMPA, Fla -- Dammit, Scott!
In a recent development on the CBS series "Big Brother 4," Scott Weintraub, 33, was removed from the set after a furniture-tossing fit of rage. In an attempt to save himself from the network reaper, Weintraub apologized to fellow contestants, claiming his violent behavior was the result of a recent bout with genital warts. As a result, my Big Brother 4 Fantasy Team is in tatters.
Oh, and good luck on the dating circuit, Scotty. Nothing says "Why don't you come up to my place?" like uncontrollable anger issues, a skullcap, a hairy back and national exposure of your groin-skin disfigurement. Even Mr. Weintraub's gainful employment as a waiter at the tender age of 33 won't atone for the portfolio he has opened for all of America.
This isn't the first time sociopathic behavior was attributed to genitalia. Remember the story of the genocidal militant who allegedly died from syphilis? Or perhaps some of you remember George Brett, professional baseball player, and his struggles with 'roid rage (hemorrhoids, that is).
If this persists, STDs are going to get a bad rap.
Perhaps it was inevitable that someone would become the poster child for how disingenuous "reality" television is. Let's face it; even the winners of these competitions are paid scale. The only thing real about these productions is that everyday, uncompensated Americans are cast in lead roles - in fictitious and manipulated circumstances.
Heck, the members of "Last Comic Standing" are purported to be professional comedians and the girls of "Survivor" come Playboy-ready. Only the producers laugh their way to the bank.
This ain't reality, and nothing is as it seems.
Allow me to coin a new word for all you English aficionados - skepti-cynic. I consider myself to be a skepti-cynic. A skepti-cynic is defined as a person who shuns negativity but who considers everything he/she reads to be bullsh-t. It is how I rationalize my very existence.
I am skepti-cynical when it comes to everything. For instance, I believe that the one-eyed Cyclops of Greek mythological fame was actually a middle-aged Jewish man named Goldie with a un-brow which, viewed from a distance, appeared to be an eye.
I believe that Ron and Nicole's "real killers" are hording weapons of mass destruction beneath a golf course in South Florida under the watchful eye of Osama bin Laden and Salman Rushdie.
I believe that all dark, curly, squiggly hairs found in my creme brulee are simply the result of an African-American dessert chef with a hole in his hair net.
I believe that Eric Clapton was lying when he claimed that his girlfriends of the 1970s "don't like cocaine."
I believe that all bottles of 90-proof liquor should come with a condom stuck to the side.
I believe that the Spanish station Univision should be all-nude, all the time.
I believe all reality television shows are full of folks like me - lying, mugging and turn-to-the-good side" actor-wannabes with no qualities more redeeming than access to a computer.
I believe that Jerry Sausner and Joyce Schulman are the only reasons a person should live in California (I try to include both my readers' names when appropriate).
I believe that someone must be distributing naked pictures of me on the Internet because I keep receiving altruistic emails from well-wishers offering to help me "increase my manhood" overnight.
In closing, if you want reality, how about a live videostream of me cashing in my 401K to pay my mortgage because I am "over qualified" to do anything that generates paperwork for a hiring clerk?
Now, that's reality!