First off, I'd drop forty pounds. No one wants to be flabby on national tv.

Then, I'd hide a credit card in my shoe. As soon as I was gauranteed to be on the jury thingy, I'd start sabotaging the shit of the show. "Oh, you won the contest and get to go learn how to make bread with the locals? I'm going to take everyone else you didn't pick to go with you and we're hiking to the nearest luxury resort, which, this being Survivor, is probably only 15 minutes away."

If the CBS producers tried to step in and say I'm cheating, I'd probably tell them that if they really wanted to see a group of people try to "survive," they'd of stranded us in Detroit.

Hey -- here's a better idea. For the next Survivor, they should take everyone who's in a swimsuit and head scarf and parachute their asses into Alaska. Let's see them try to beat hypothermia! How's that for an immunity challenge? Spear this boar! You need its fur for warmth! GO! GO!