Thank $deity for fluffy news stories like this: Joe Millionaire star enjoys his fleeting fame.
Evan Marriott knows his time is running out.
In the 15-minutes-of-fame universe, he’s at about 14:50.
Which is why the star of the Fox Television hit Joe Millionaire is sitting inside a limo outside a Galleria nightclub, signing hundreds of fliers promoting his appearance at the Miss Hawaiian Tropic Model Search, waiting for hordes of fans to surround the car.
Only they don’t.
Evan who?
Joe what?
“I know I probably won’t be a major star or anything,” Marriott says before entering the Roxy. “I doubt if people will line up at movie theaters or anything to see me, so that’s why I’m doing this.”
Um, Evan, are you saying that you need a reason to be a judge at a Miss Hawaiian Tropic contest? Because, like, I don’t. I mean, I’d need a dispensation from Tiffany and all, but I think the job itself is reason enough. But hey, I was never a reality TV star, so what do I know?
Keep ’em coming, folks. I’m gonna need a lot of distraction over the next few days.
Given what has occurred in the past 24 hours, I find myself questioning the defintion of reality TV. Not to mention the definition of reality.