I know. I know! I'm the worst. I'm a sheep. I'm part of what's wrong with modern American culture. But at least in Kim's realm I'm an A-list celebrity with 50 million fans—after nearly $500 worth of in-app purchases, of course.
You guys, I literally think I have a problem. What a lame, embarrassing addiction to have. What would I even say if I tried to get help for this at AA or something?
"Hello, my name is Tracie and I'm a basic bitch."
So with that acknowledgment, I'd like to say that Kim Kardashian: Hollywood is so fucking fun. Sure, in a really terrible, anxiety-ridden, OCD-triggering kind of way, but fun nonetheless.
The game is free to download and available for iPad, iPhone and some of those none-Apple devices that celebrities pretend they actually use for the sake of their paid endorsements.
You don't play as Kim. You play yourself with a "kustomized" avatar (skin color, hair, face and clothes can all change, but there's only one body type) and Kim serves as your mentor as you try to become a star. It mostly involves doing photo shoots, buying clothes and dating black guys.
Neither talent nor intelligence are needed to succeed in Kim's app universe. There are no puzzles or hidden object searches or anything like that. There isn't even any strategizing. You mindlessly tap on the screen to earn and spend money.
This is me.
My journey from E-list to A-list celebrity started when I met Kim while I was working as a salesgirl at a store called So Chic in Downtown LA. She took a shine to me because I gave her a dress for free. She said I'm hot and could be spokesmodel. Or something?
She hooked me up with an agent named Simon who gets me jobs.
Doing a job—like a photo shoot or promotional appearance—takes energy, which is measured in little lightning bolts. Once I've spent my lightning bolts I have to wait for them to replenish over time after taking a rest. Or I can make like a real celeb and buy my
Energy can be purchased with K stars. They are incredibly hard to earn, typically through leveling up or "Achievements," which is when you perform especially well in categories like "Vanity" (when you check your makeup), "Spotlight" (when you check your lighting), or "Glam" (when you shop). K stars are also the only currency accepted for certain items like signature haircuts or luxury vehicles.
I typically earned one K star for every hour I played. That's nothing! Especially considering the fact that the signature haircut I wanted is 100 K stars. And that stupid kitten I adopted was 30 K stars.
So you can use real-life money and your iTunes account to purchase K stars. And this is how I fell into the K star K-hole. (Ha! I just typed K-hole as Khloe by accident.)
Look at how druggy that is, in the Louis brief case! I took my first K-star binge with a $19.99 pack. I stayed up playing until 2:30 am.
You see, I had to do some damage control on my image on the advice of my publicist Maria. This bitch Willow Page (who is very clearly based on Paris Hilton) planted nasty stories about me in the press and talking shit on Twitter.
So Maria suggested I go on a date and get photographed by the paparazzi to get people talking about me in a different capacity.
Kim set me up with a guy but I wasn't that into him, so she accused me of being a lezebel.
She wasn't really that far off the mark, to be honest. I don't care whether it's a man or a woman. I just date the most famous option—like Amber Heard.
I also followed the career advice that Kim shares on the loading page whenever you launch the app:
Dating famous people will get you more fans too.
Dating costs money, but it's a quick way to level up!
Changing your look and buying nice clothes can get you noticed by the media.
You can get friends or game contacts to help you with projects by hiring them as co-stars.
It took me two and half hours and $40 USD to become a D-list celebrity.
It wasn't too long before I was asked to compromise my values.
The good news is that I value fame and notoriety above all things, so I had no problem doing a nude shoot.
I eventually got famous enough to use my birthday as an excuse to book a paid appearance at a club in Vegas. Kim suggested it. She even bought me a dress, which I'm sure was expensive, but it was totally dumpy.
That's not appropriate for a Vegas nightclub. It is appropriate, however, that Kim compulsively dresses her friends like bridesmaids.
Anyway, I wore the dress because I didn't want to be rude and she'd done so much for me already. But check out what she wore to my party:
Leggings and a cardigan. What a fucking bitch. This was a big moment for me!
P.S. WTF is a hand hug?
Within the first 18 hours of playing this game I spent over $130 and had rocketed from E to A-list celebrity. I was finally able to afford the $4500 leather jacket I'd been eyeing and I got my lips made fuller for a dramatic makeover.
And then the fucking game crashed! I was gripped with panic—not only had I lost all my progress, but I'd lost all the real world money I'd invested (albeit unwisely) in this piece of shit app that I simply needed to continue playing.
Fit to be tied, I called iTunes' customer service.
Me: "Hi, I downloaded the Kim Kardashian game on my iPad and I spent over $130 on in-app purchases and played for like 18 hours to become an A-list celebrity and now something happened, the game crashed or something and now I'm back to being an E-list celebrity! I mean, it's fine, I'll get back up there. Whatever. I'm not worried about that as much as I am about the money I lost! Because I can't get back to where I was without the money!"
iTunes lady: [Silence]
iTunes lady: "Yes ma'am. I'm sorry about that. Can I put you on hold for just a minute?"
After putting me on hold so she could undoubtedly make fun of me to her co-workers, the iTunes lady returned to tell me that her supervisor had approved a refund for me. Thank God!
She had to just type some stuff up and allow for some other stuff to happen on her computer screen on her end. As we waited, we chatted.
iTunes lady: "The game is Kim Kardashian: Hollywood? Is it fun?"
Me: "Yeah, really fun!"
iTunes lady: "I'd heard about it and was wondering."
Me: "Did you see her wedding?"
iTunes lady: "Which one?"
[Laughter all around]
So yeah, I had to start all over. This time I wasn't fucking around. I went right for the $99.99 pack of K stars and went to town.
Oh speaking of going to town, in Kim's world it only costs $15 to fly to Miami.
But it costs $20 to take a bus to Calabasas.
And there's actually a whole section of Calabasas I can't access yet because I'm not rich or famous enough.
In Kim's world, The Valley is the most exclusive place in the world.
Some other interesting things to notice:
Why is Kim's chain of boutiques called Kardash and not Dash? Did her sisters not sign off on that?
Also, bloggers are E-list.
Now here's where things get creepy. In order for me to land a role in a TV commercial, I needed to meet with a director in his room at a hotel next to LAX. And despite everything that Tyra Banks has ever said about shady casting situations, I went. Because who cares if I have to suck fake dick to get fake famous?
I actually didn't take a screen grab of the interaction in the airport hotel room, which is my biggest regret so far (even bigger than that second $99.99 pack I bought when I was real-life drunk). However, it turned out to be completely innocent. Nothing sexual happened and I booked the gig! The moral of the story is that questionable decisions rarely come with negative consequences when you are a celebrity.
In fact, only good things happened. I finally got to work with the notriously mean but very important Elizabeth Korkov (an Anna Wintour knockoff).
She put me on the cover of Muse, her high-end fashion magazine.
Finally, I was back on top. (And in Balmain!) But I was still humble enough to heed Kim's sage career advice.
Eventually, I wasn't just a big deal celebrity, I was the big deal celebrity. I was #1!
What's not explained is that if I'm #1 then what's Kim's rank? She doesn't seem to be on here at all. Maybe because she's like God so she's so powerful that she's beyond a ranking? I don't know. I don't care. I'm famous!
But I'm still not rich.
I bought a loft in TriBeCa but couldn't afford to furnish it.
And whenever I go out to LA, I still have to take the bus because cars are way too expensive and the most affordable one is gross and says "KIMKIM" with a pink heart on the grill.
And I still had to do unthinkable things in the name of my career, like date an asshole in a fedora.
And get a terrible makeover just to grab some attention.
And then have to hear shit about it from the Tom of Finland illustration I'm a beard for. (He's a high-ranking producer.)
And get harassed by wing nuts on Twitter.
But things are pretty good right now. Sure, I don't have any legitimate goals to work toward and I've ignored my real-life husband and child for five days in a row, but at least I finally have a boyfriend that might not be gay.
And I think I've come to terms with the fact that I simply do not have enough money—real or virtual—to keep up with the Kardashians, no matter how much those marketing geniuses try to drain every penny out of my wallet.
That being said, I will continue to nurture my avatar's stupid career—slowly and constantly—as though it were a Tamagotchi.
And not that any of this was in any way educational, but somehow I managed to learn something from falling down the Kardashian K-hole: Conforming to the vacuity of modern American culture can actually offer a sense of relief and make you feel all nice and warm, if only for a minute. But you can achieve the same results by peeing your pants—which is way cheaper and less embarrassing than Kim Kardashian: Hollywood.