Putting more ‘real’ in reality TV

I don’t watch reality TV shows for the obvious reasons:

Watching people eat bugs makes me gag.

Watching bosses make insane demands reminds me of work.

Watching Donald Trump gets me to obsessing about his hair.

Look up in the sky:

It’s a bird.

It’s a plane.

It’s SuperMane.

The other problem I have with reality shows is that they aren’t real enough to hold my interest.

Tell me “Survivor” wouldn’t be a zillion times more compelling if the winner were the only one who actually lived?

Or that “Trading Spouses” wouldn’t be much more fun if the swap were permanent?

And does anyone really believe a bunch of Ivy League overachievers could be so driven by ambition that they would let a potential employer pepper them with a paint-ball gun?

OK, so maybe that one rings true.

But you get my point, which, in case you don’t, is this:

If the television industry wants to attract viewers to its reality fare, it not only has to get real, it has to get surreal. What does that mean exactly? Here are a few new reality-show concepts guaranteed to send the ratings skyrocketing.

Childbirth Racing: Five expectant mothers, all with the same due date, check into the maternity ward. The first one to give birth wins $1 million in cash and prizes. But here’s the twist that gives the show its entertainment value -- no pain medication. Test audiences say it’s a scream.

Who’s Your Daddy? In this ongoing relationship saga, several middle-age professional types are incarcerated in a maximum-security prison, where they must learn to live among a cast of characters that include murderers, serial killers, armed robbers, all-around psychopaths -- and some really lonely guys.

The Ugly Duckling: Already beautiful women volunteer to undergo plastic surgery in the belief it is going to make them even more gorgeous. But when the bandages come off, viewers will be howling with laughter and singing “Who Let the Dogs Out.”

Big Mother: Several plus-size males and females are forced to share a very small house, and the contents of an even tinier refrigerator. Think “Lord of the Flies” a la mode.

Pimp My Pet: Unsuspecting owners drop off their pets for what they believe will be routine grooming. But after a team of doggy-hair stylists, manicurists, tattoo artists, body-piercers and makeup experts get through, it’s impossible to tell Fido’s cold nose from his business end.

Nunny 911: Parents, no longer able to deal with their spoiled-rotten offspring, call for help. Enter the Nunny (Sister Mary Yardstick), who solves the discipline problems using a combination of tough love and grammar drills.

Jim Shea is a columnist for the Hartford Courant, a Tribune company.