Outwit. Outplay. Outlast. Yeah Right.

We Seasiders live in one giant reality TV show. Dancing with the Stars? Not unless you consider the perp walk with Lieutenant Ham a dance.

Bachelor in Paradise? Hahaha, it’s more like Married Man in the Dark Corner at Pudgy’s.

No, it’s Survivor: Seaside.

I have never had to fend for myself for thirty nine days on an island, but I certainly have experienced waking up in the sand (“Lawdy, Officer, I was just restin’ my eyes”) rain leaking through the roof, alliances, lying (“Yes, the check is not only in the mail, but I was happy to send it’) and the personal tribal councils.

In case you don’t know it, the site of many Tribal Councils is at Holladay Drug Store coffee bar.

I haven’t had to survive on eating rats, but I have had to survive on having a rat boy friend and living on minimum wage at the coast. It’s kind of the same. Isn’t it?

The only thing that’s different is that we don’t have Jeff Probst. We have Mark Winstanley, and unless I am sorely mistaken, or unless he has a fiscal personality transplant, he is not going to be handing out a million dollars my way any time soon.

The only alliance I can see forming is with my Safeway checkout lady, who is really nice to me when I actually have fifteen items or less. (like I can afford more than fifteen items at a time).

Here’s how Survivor: Seaside goes.

There are two teams: Team Without Health Insurance and Team We Don’t Know How Lucky We Are.

Sometimes, a third team wants to compete. They are Team I don’t live here but I own a Second Home Here and I pay taxes, Dammit. This team usually implodes when they brutally argue over whether a dinner of rats go better with a good hearty ’89 Cabernet or a light Chardonnay with a hint of citrus. When they realize you cannot buy a wedge of buttery Camembert anywhere in this town, they turn against each other entirely. The Dammits never even make it to the second day.

“Survivors. Get ready. Upon waking you will look at yourself in the bathroom mirror of horror without cursing the gods or the night before, presuming you remember the night before.

“Be careful not to step on the weight scale at your feet, for if you do, you will then be forced to see how much you weigh, and your screams will wake the neighbors, and you have to go back to the start with a warrant for your arrest for disturbing the peace.”

“Then, you meet up with your fellow tribe members and search for the elusive immunity idol. It will keep you safe for one week. It’s called a paycheck. At the end of the week, the idol will disappear and you will have to run the obstacle course all over again.”

However, I never get to vote anybody out, and believe me, I have a list. You guys can e-mail me, and we can form an alliance and start emotionally votin’ people out. It’ll make me feel a whole lot better about the rat boyfriend.

The first person voted out of Survivor: Seaside? It’ll probably be me.