I'm gonna be on TV !!!!

Oh my God, guys, you wouldn’t believe what just happened to me! I guess good things really do happen to good people, because guess what: I’m going to be on TV!!!! It all started last week when I was sitting and eating a sandwich outside the Citicorp Building in Midtown.

Well, it was a beautiful day, with cotton candy clouds just brushing across the skyscrapers, so I took my camera out to take some pictures. The light was dancing against the glass, so before I knew it, I snapped like a whole roll. And right as I was putting the camera away, an officer of the law (and believe me, his costume looked official!) approached me and said, “Sir, can I see some identification?”

Well, I’m no stranger to reality television, and I’m certainly not interested in looking surly in front of an audience, so I took out my license and smiled for the hidden camera. I hate it when people are mean on TV! He inspected it real close, and brought one of his buddies along to take a look. A crowd even formed around me. “We’re gonna have to take you in.”

It looked like I was in for an extreme makeover! I’ve needed new pants for weeks now, and I didn’t even mind if they gayed me up a little; it’d be worth it.

“Sure thing, buddy,” I said, and winked so he knew that I was on to him. He grabbed my camera and smashed it under his boot. Looks like ol' Nirav is gonna get a free digital camera!!!Before I knew it, I was on a “plane,” hands cuffed behind my back and duct tape across my mouth taking off from the best sound stage I had ever seen. They had all the extras dress in camo! I sat in the back of this huge cargo plane all alone, and a voice came over the intercom.

“You are in the custody of the Special Rendition Squad. This is an extraordinary rendition.” Extraordinary indeed! “We’ll be touching down in Syria in fourteen hours. There you will be rended to Syrian officials.”

And another voice from the “cockpit”: “It’s ‘rendered,’ jackass. He’s not getting rended. We’re not tearing him in half.”

“Well, we’ll see about that.” Oooooh, I’m soooo scared.

I passed my time thinking of all the things I would tell my friends (especially my girlfriend) at my coming out. They would say things like, Look at Nirav! It’s like he’s a new man! And Girlfriend, you look hot!

After three or four hours all tied up, I grew a little uncomfortable. This prank was a bit too elaborate for my taste, and I couldn’t reach my crotch which had begun to itch furiously so I made a little noise to get the "pilot's" attention. Surely, the producers didn’t want me to experience any real pain. A man came in from the cockpit, and ripped the duct tape from my mouth. “What the fuck is it?”

“Can you get these cuffs off, I have an itch.” I asked real nicely since I want people to know that I'm really a good person at heart, even if I don't dress all that well.

“Where’s your itch?” Well, I wasn’t about to talk about my balls on national television so I told him it was my back. A good thing, too, because right then he smashed the butt of his “sub-machine gun” into my back and I doubled over in excruciating pain. I’m telling you, guys, this was method acting at its finest.

I fell asleep a little later, bruised and still itchy, and when I woke, there was a swarthy Arab-looking man in front of me. "This must be Syria," I presumed aloud and gave a wink to the Arab for good measure. It even smelled like another country. They were sparing no expense on good ol’ Nirav.

I looked down and—can you believe it?—saw that the makeover was just getting started! They had me stripped naked and had two “electrodes” attached to my testicles. “I should tell you, I can’t wear anything in pink,” said I. “Aside from that, you can do what you want.”

“What is these pictures you was taking?” asked the swarthy gentleman. The producers had given him a bushy mustache and a kaffiyeh and they had strapped him with an Uzi! I hate it how TV shows are always making Middle Easterners look like terrorists, and I said so to him. To be honest, his accent wasn’t even that good.

“Okay. Power on!” he shouted and right then it felt as though my testicles had been replaced with sharks that were eating my intestines from the inside. So this was going to be more like Distraction. No worries; I love that show too!

We did the “extremely painful electrocution” thing for a while, and boy was I tired when we moved to the spa portion of the makeover. First they filled the room with water up to the top and made me stand on my tiptoes to breathe, and then they put me in a tiny room that was half-filled with water and made me bend over. I almost “drowned to death” that time, but soon enough they moved me to the last room, which was the first room, except it had water on the floor and a live wire hanging above the water.

I felt just like Goldilocks! “This room is just right!” I said and smiled for the camera. Right then, the “Arab” came in and asked that same silly question again, “What is these pictures you was taking?”

“I don’t know!” said I. “Why are the walls dying?” I tried to keep my cool for the audience until then, but—and this is SOOO embarrassing—at this point I started hallucinating and seeing ghosts and monsters and spouting gibberish. Before I knew it I had passed out into the electrified tank of water! Well, guys, I don’t remember so much after that but I’m willing to bet that hilarity ensued. They flew me back at some point, and I spent a few days in a “hospital” on an “I-V” which was nice after all that electrocution, and I even signed a waiver to not sue the “government.” That’s how I knew for sure it was a TV show. TV shows are always trying to get you to sign waivers.

Well, they didn’t tell me what time the show would be on, but keep your eyes open. And next time you see me, be sure to tell me how good I look. I haven’t been able to have an erection in three days and I have these weird bruises everywhere, but aside from that I feel like a new man! That Ashton Kutcher is incorrigible!!!