I'd drink too if I was Janet

I live in the Aryan nation, a.k.a. California. Everyone is blond. No, let me correct that: every chick is blond. When you step off the plane at LAX they hand you Loreal Luminous Lusty Lemon Meringue, plastic gloves, and quickly hustle you to the nearest bathroom.

Go ahead, try to find that new girl you met online at that trendy hot spot (BTW, every fucking hot dog stand out here is a trendy hot spot). She's 5'4", slim, and--blond, right? Good luck. No chance taking her by surprise, because she'll see you chatting up 55 other Brittany Spears and decide she's got better dudes to do. My advice? Stick to angry goth chicks with purple hair and lots of eyeliner who live in Seattle.

I think one particular episode of "Three's Company" beautifully illustrates my point. Three's Company is the quintessential So Cal sitcom--flaky, meandering, no conceivable plot line except Jack uses homosexuality to get heterosexual sex. It's Jack, never-heard-of-a-bra Chrissy, and Janet. Janet--the brunette, ergo the ugly one. And the episode I'm referring to? When Janet buys a nasty, scary blond wig and suddenly--she's hot! She's getting laid, she's getting promoted, she's winning the Nobel Peace Prize, etc.etc.etc. Something vaguely bad happens, I can't quite remember, like the wig falls off, and Janet learns a valuable life lesson: it's better just being yourself. Bullshit, honey. Time to dye those locks for real and hit the streets. Hey, I heard they're hiring at Surreal Life.