Let’s be real: you won’t become a Hollywood star. You’ll become the person that strangers recognise at the supermarket and say, “Oi! You’re the one who hates Gino D’Acampo!” You’ll get a modest fee per episode—last we heard, around £150 per show. Not bad for lying on a sofa, but you won’t retire.
The weirdest part? You’ll become a cultural barometer. People will quote your offhand remarks. You’ll get free stuff from PR companies. And every single person you meet will assume they can do your job better than you. (Spoiler: they can’t. It’s a weird, specific talent.)
But there’s a dark side. Once you’re on, you’re locked in. You cannot discuss what you watch before it airs. You become a vault of secrets. And if you accidentally spoil a show on Twitter? The producers will send a very stern email. I’ve heard they can drop you faster than a dropped remote.
