Easy money?
There is a simple formula, which goes thus:

1) Convince yourself that it's your right to be famous, by doing absolutely fuck all to deserve it.

2) Once you have achieved this, wander around vacantly for a bit until you stumble upon auditions for a well known, but frankly tired, reality TV show.

3) Convince the programme makers you are just what they are looking for in the next series by inventing a serious personality disorder that marks you out as being 'a bit wacky', and therefore likely to entertain.

4) Once you've got yourself into the house, either (a) get your knob / tits out as often as possible, or, (b) pick fights with your housemates at every opportunity, thus ensuring maximum exposure in the tabloids and 'lifestyle' magazines. For added effect, you could try innocently calling one of them a nigger, although these days that's likely to get you kicked out and damage your chances of making any serious money on the outside. Plus it's not big or clever, kids!

5) For added effect, find a housemate you quite fancy, and throw yourself into a full on romance with them. If you're particulary brave, indulge in repeated acts of shagging under the covers in front of the cameras (again, see 4 above).

6) Got to week 6? Congratulations, you're half way there! Try amusing the nation with your complete cluelessness as to current affairs, how many weeks are in a year, the location of Wales, and general cuntfuckery, but remember to say that you like teh kittums - this should guarantee you the b3ta vote!

7) Repeat steps 4 and 5 as necessary, especially if the object of your desire is evicted - mope for a couple of days, then attach yourself to the next available housemate (this is optional).

8) In the event that you do get evicted before the final, sell your story for untold thousands to the first available tabloid and 'celebrity' magazine. The Daily Star is a good bet, as is OK! magazine. Fuck it, you've got your pick really. Maintain your exposure by going on 'celebrity' editions of the Weakest Link, reinforcing to the British public what a clueless fuckwit you are, but never mind, it's quite endearing isn't it? If you're of the lady persuasion, the lads mags will be falling over themselves to offer you serious wads of cash for getting your norks out (if you're shy, they'll probably let you keep your hands over your nipples. But they'll keep coming back with bigger offers until you go all the way. This could be a good strategy - keep your public on tenterhooks for a bit, then whip 'em out as the pound signs flash in your eyes like a demented fruit machine). This only works if you're not a complete boiler, though.

9) If you actually win, collect the £100,000 and also see step 8 above.

10) Should you have managed to keep your romance intact, get engaged and then married in record time, thus ensuring a further cash cow as the glossies scramble over each other to offer you both a multi-thousand pound 'exclusive' deal (which, lets face it, will be picked up by everyone else afterwards anyway - another result).

11) Following step 10, you could always try divorce some 9 months later, thus ensuring more 'exclusive' deals where you can give your account of the marriage and how she never swallowed / he always tried to get you to swallow (delete as appropriate).

12) An added option is to find yourself a satellite TV station that's watched by about 12 people, and get a presenting job.

13) Congratulations! You have achieved fleeting fame and notoriety, before plunging into general obscurity again, safe in the knowledge that you have managed to fleece several thousands of pounds from the gullible media industry (helped by the general public).

14) Finally, if you are a complete mong, you may be lucky enough to snare yourself a protracted but inexplicable stay in the limelight - maybe try going on the 'celebrity' version of the show, and racially abusing a housemate or demonstrating homophobic tendencies. Then cry about it afterwards on breakfast TV, insisting it was all a mistake. To back this up, you could point out that some of your best mates are black. Or gay. Then write your autobiography, even though you're only 22. I say write - why waste time on that shit? Christ, you can't even spell. Get some other fucker to do it for you, and reap the rewards for 6 months, before finding yourself in the bargain bin at Asda.

15) Sorted!
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:11, 12 replies)

This!
For the win!
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:37, closed)

the only
and I mean ONLY reality tv / celebrities do stuff programme I watch is Strictly come dancing.

Am not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

edit:how rude, this got a Phone 0871 9090011111 to give Davros Grandad an "I like this"

terms and conditions apply, your vote may not get counted/ be lost in the post / eaten by attila the nun, call lengths may vary, £1.50 per minute, calls last no longer than an evolutionary stage.
(Halfy By light alone, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:38, closed)

I always thought
It would be kind of fun to go on Big Brother, just for the hell of it and quietly wind up/drive round the bend all the nutters they put in there until they kill themselves out of sheer frustration.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:43, closed)

Class!

A succinct summing up of the inane media-induced spack orgy which makes me want to jab a knitting needle into my spinal column every time I see that fatuous fucktard Jade 'bloody' Goody

So if it's alright with you...I'll just sit here quietly in the dark waiting for the next series of 'I'm A Celebrity'...cos that's ace!

oh, and 'clicks......clicks damn hard'
(Mr Twisty Cheeky The worst kept secret in B3ta..., Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:47, closed)

haha ^
"media induced spack orgy"

best phrase EVER!
( scoshi pretending to diet since, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:54, closed)

Oddly enough
I nearly got sucked into an audition for series 3. I was staying at a hotel in Bristol for a course I was attending. I was waiting in the foyer for my colleagues when a guy asked me "Are you here for the Big Brother auditions?" I said "No", and he asked "Do you want to audition anyway?"

I said no...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Tue 5 Aug 2008, 14:58, closed)

"Do you want to audition anyway?"
Not surprised mate, it was a bit 'old hat' even then!
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 15:06, closed)

*Clicks*
I really hope very few of them ever make enough money to justify going on there.

The thought that they actually come out of it with anything more than a lifetime of disgrace is more than I can take.
( Moey, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 15:08, closed)

We have a winner!
If this doesnt win, I'll shag Jade Goody.
(Miggyman, Tue 5 Aug 2008, 15:10, closed)

Grrr....
Joseph Bazalgette was the Victorian engineer responsible for pumping the shit out of the homes of London during the 1860s.

Peter Bazalgette (his great great grandson) is an executive at Endemol Television.

Anyone else sense some irony there?
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Tue 5 Aug 2008, 15:11, closed)

Clicks
Also PJM wasn't that joke used on QI a while ago
(mon bison powered by magnets, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 10:31, closed)

If it was
I'm not aware of it, however I'll happiliy wave rights to the joke
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 6 Aug 2008, 20:31, closed)