Star F*cking, Reality Show Style

Just like Dante's Inferno, there are several circles of Hell in Los Angeles, in which various famous types from A-D orbit the city... and then you have the reality show stars. They're fairly ubiquitous, epitomizing the "stars--they're just like us!" because, actually, they really are--they have to do their own shopping, wash their own cars, even get their own nails done at the cheapy-cheap Thai nail salon ("yu wan fak nails?"). So it's quite easy to interact with them, seeing as their 15 seconds is just about up. Have I dated any of them yet? Nope - I'm so lame the closest I've gotten is hooking up with a guy who partied with Syrus at the Real World Boston house until Montana freaked out and kicked them out. But out here, if I put in a little more effort (say, shave my legs more than once a month) I think I could swing it. Thing is, do I really want to date someone who is the topic of numerous chat rooms and cooky girls' My Space pages, and would constantly be referred to as "that has-been from Big Brother"?