You asked for this: The reality of Reality TV fame.

Do you want to be famous?

Do you want 250,000 Facebook followers and a “personal brand” to kick start that small business you’ve always fancied? Do you want invites to all the parties you’ve only seen in the social pages, and first-name recognition on the Daily Mail home page? Do you want to get sent free clothes, shoes, bags that you could never afford? Do you want to get paid to spruik protein balls on Instagram?

Hells, yes. Where do you sign?

Right here, on the dotted line of this contract to join a reality TV show.

Listen to Laura Brodnik and Rosie Waterland talk about the brutality of the reality TV show fame experience on The Binge podcast, here: 

Welcome to the modern fairytale. It’s the dreamy narrative that ends with the 14 women we saw slugging it out in sumo suits last week on The Bachelor.

Well, that, and the promise of finding ever-lasting love, of course.

It’s the job of your dreams. And infinitely better than that call-centre gig you’ve been doing since uni.

So what do you need to do in return for living your dream life? Well, how about you give up your job for three months (yes, please) while we pay you a nominal sum (happy days!) And during that time you are cut-off from anyone you know and not allowed to read the news, watch TV, or interact on social media (a holiday from real life, hallelujah!)

You’ll have to brief all your friends and family not to talk when the media call. And they will call. Hopefully, your family, school friends and any ex-partners wish you well and won’t be tempted by pay cheques or past grudges into telling unflattering stories.

You'll have to accept that a lot of people are going say a lot of awful things about you - and TO YOU - and you will not be able to respond, else risk looking like an unstable, ungrateful b*tch. These things might be about your weight, the shape of your nose, your voice, definitely about that breast augmentation you had last year, what you wear, what you say, the way you looked at that other person for a split-second of your life once, and your hair. They will compare you to photos of men, farm animals and cartoon characters.

Cool?

Oh, and if you prove interesting enough, you're going to get followed. By men with cameras. They will follow you when you go to the shop to buy cigarettes. They will sit outside your gym and your house and they will yell questions at you that you don't know if you are allowed to answer and some of them might be upsetting, but you must never look upset, and if it seems a bit strange to you that a grown man is paid to follow you to your front door in the dark just don't worry about it, it's all part of the deal.

'Kay?

It's very important that whatever happens, however nasty the trolling gets, or however many shows ACA dedicates to your complicated early family life, that you do not ever appear UNGRATEFUL.

Being ungrateful is the worst. Remember: Everyone else's life is small and boring and you are living the dream, and if the dream is not quite what you expected, well, that just works out better for the people with the small and boring lives.

Watch: This is the correct way to watch reality TV. Post continues below. 

It's 2016, you knew all this was going to happen, right?

And you knew exactly how it would feel. And you knew exactly how you would cope with it.

You just knew what it would be like for the world to know your secrets, to be sold-out by your friends, to be unable to turn on your phone and to be yelled at in the street.

So, smile. And remember, YOU ASKED FOR THIS.

Do you feel sorry for reality TV show contestants? 

You can follow Holly on Facebook, here. 

For the whole episode of The Binge, including Rosie and Laura's must-watch recommendations for the week, listen here: