October 31, 2006
Rockin' the Frocks
Well, the girls threw a hissy when I told them it was time to change out of their summer frocks. I think they just like saying frock. They were making frock jokes even as they were kicking their shoes off.
You don't see a lot of women wearing hats nowadays.
I made them change into their Halloween costumes.
Yes, that's a riding crop she's holding. She wanted to be a pirate, but I told her that everyone is going to be a pirate this year.
The one in the middle is a French Maid Who Wears Her Mistress' Jewelry While Her Employers Are Away At Another Charity Ball.
The blonde is a... Madam at a Chinese Brothel. I guess. I don't know -- she just really wanted to wear that dress.
Me? I'm gonna put on real clothes, maybe a little make-up, and be a Normal, Healthy Person for Halloween. Not a very creative costume, but it's about all I can muster after the week I've had.
Happy 'Ween, my little treats!
Posted at 01:56 PM | Comments (1)October 30, 2006
(CR)Happy Birthday to Me!
Well, it's Day Six of The Birthday Illness, and I'm getting better... slowly. I have to give major props to Husband, who bent over backwards to keep my birthday from sucking completely.
He baked me a birthday cake! After I showed him where the electric mixer was, and the round cake pans. And the eggs. And he now knows how to tell if a cake is done baking using only a toothpick and a well-trained eye!
He did a lovely job frosting the cake -- chocolate, natch -- and once the cake was completely covered, he was like, "What do I do with the leftover frosting?"
"Leftover frosting?" What the hell is leftover frosting?
I'm like, "Dude! There's no such thing as leftover frosting! You just keep frosting the cake until the frosting is all gone! Frosting is NEVER leftover! Were you raised by wolves?!" And so forth.
He even got me Barbie glitter candles and insisted upon lighting them and singing for me. Awwwwwwwwwwww.
He also went and got my favorite dish from my favorite restaurant -- bowtie pasta with vodka sauce from Graziano's. And as a gift, he got me...
AN IPOD!!!!
It's pink! And it's sooooooooo kewl! Thank God I'm home sick so I can figure out how to work the dang thing!
Now I need a Coach iPod carrying case.
Anyhoo, being stuck at home with barely enough energy to properly dispose of all my snot-laden kleenex, it's been the perfect time to sit in front of the t.v. and change clothes on all the Barbies. And it's about time, too, because it's October, for Pete's sake, and some of them are still in tank tops and hootchie skirts!
First, I dressed Jenny (Japan's version of Barbie) and her similarly-proportioned friends:
It's a wonder I'm not in prison, isn't it?
Then I did all fifteen Fashion Avenue Barbies:
Or as I call them, Fashion Victim Barbies.
Aren't they an ethnicly diverse group? But I couldn't fit all fifteen of them in the photo, so Miss J made them walk a catwalk made of Jello, and the winner got to pick three friends to be in my photoshoot.
The other eleven are pissed. Drew poured a beer in Christie's weave.
Posted at 01:09 PM | Comments (0)October 27, 2006
"The Girl Who Graduates"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Michelle came out of the closet, Janice flustered the girls, Melrose shone, and A.J.'s indifference got her sent home.
"You wanna be on top?" Why, yes, Tyra, I do. Thanks for asking.
Two seconds into this episode, Eugena emerges as the new Black Chick Who Everyone Hates. She's in the confessional talking about how sick and tired she is of all the other girls. And honestly, I feel her pain because I, too, am tired of Jaeda whiiiiiining about her hair and Anchal whiiiiiiiining about her weight. But that doesn't stop me from hating Eugena.
Brooke gets a package from home! A "theme package" filled with graduation decorations and a copy of her diploma. She says that the walk across the stage to get one's diploma is a milestone in everyone's life, but she'd still rather be where she is. Oh, Brooke, c'mere and lemme pinch your cheeks!
Melrose happens to wander outside and find the yard set up for an impromptu photoshoot. And she's surprised? Really? They don't have windows in that house?
And did anyone not guess that Tyra is the surprise photographer? Her black and white photoshoots, always with tons of black eyeliner, have become a staple. She wants, "Black and white and edgy, angry and evil, but still pretty."
To help them fill that tall order, the girls will have weird, white contact lenses, buttloads of smudgey black eyeliner, and backcombed hair. Eek, indeed.
Before her shoot, Brooke asks, "Is it okay if I growl?" Oh, honey. You go ahead and do whatever you want -- Wenchie and Mama Tyra agree.
Eugena's cat eyes look pretty creepy.
Jaeda stops complaining about her hair for two seconds to complain about the shoot, "Ow. I feel so icky. This is not my thing -- I'm used to being pretty."
You know how peoples' personalities can affect how good-looking they are? Or aren't? I'm now finding Carnie Wilson hotter than Jaeda.
Anchal was "overwhelmed" by Tyra. I guess it's a celebrity thing? I don't know. Perhaps that's her nice way of saying that Tyra scares the shit outta her?
Caridee had fun, and I continue to like the vivacious blonde in spite of myself.
Tyra Mail! "Are you ready to flaunt your assets?" Please tell me they are posing naked on a big pile of money!
The girls are taken to some hall where the Kiwanis had just had their weekly breakfast meeting an hour beforehand. Some drag queen shows up, and the girls are excited to see Sutan's alter-ego, Raja. Did I fall asleep? They're acting like I'm supposed to know who this is. And isn't Raja the name of Princess Jasmin's tiger?
Well, Raja is only there to introduce Dida von Tesse, who is a famous burlesque dancer, apparently, and married to Marilyn Manson. Huh. I am really out-of-touch with pop culture because all of this is news to me.
She teaches the girls burlesque dancing, emphasizing subtlety and the use of props. And I'm surprised that she strikes me as a fairly nice, normal person. She's not wacky or over-the-top. She's very matter-of-fact and classy. Not at all what you'd expect of a burlesque dancer married to a gender-bending circus freak.
I was going to make some jokes about Dida and Marilyn sharing clothes, but she's in a fabulous 40s-esque fitted dress, and I'll bet Marilyn gets his ass kicked if he even goes near her closet.
Anyhoo, Dida is trying to teach the girls the difference between naughty and sleezy. Caridee and Melrose just don't get it. They whore it up, and Caridee beavs Brooke. Hee!
Jaeda complains that -- all together now -- she can't work with her short hair. "I don't feel like a woman!" Dudes, my cousin Egrau has a buzz cut, and she is one of the most strikingly beautiful women I know. Jaeda is a retard, and she's going to whine her way right out of the competition. But not soon enough.
Brooke and Anchal are very nervous and not in touch with the sexuality. Does Tyra has a specialist to come in and teach them that?
I'm still basking in the knowledge that Melrose really sucked at this activity. Because she's a whore. And I really have no basis for saying that, cuz it's not like she screwed some Italian male model in a jacuzzi, SHANDI. But still, I like the sound of it.
Tyra Mail! "Your mama taught you to keep your elbows off the table, but she didn't say anything about your feet." Oh, tell me the girls are going to be doing tabledances. Awesome.
The girls meet with Kathy Gould of Elite Modeling Agency, and Kylie Bax, who is apparently some big supermodel, but I've never heard of her, and she looks like she's forty years old. I don't even know why she's there. She doesn't do a damn thing.
Kathy Gould has a private party, at which the girls walk the DINING ROOM TABLE like a runway, and have to be sexy. Oh, Jesus, Kathy and Tyra are just setting these girls up for failure.
And it works! They're all either boring, trashy or clumsy. Except for Melrose, who is praised for looking "natural." And you gotta wonder about someone who looks "natural" walking on a dining room table in sleezy clothes. Did she practice every year at Thanksgiving?
She, of course, wins the challenge and says, with no real remorse, "All the other girls are gonna hate on me now." And that's new... how? She chooses Brooke and the twins to accompany her on a photoshoot for Seventeen.
HA! And then Melrose does my job for me, pointing out that it's ironic that she's gonna be in Seventeen, since she's the oldest girl there! Haaaaaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
The theme of the photo shoot is "taking a cute outfit and making it a little sexy." Because that's what I want my teenager to be learning. Thanks so much, Seventeen!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Anchal is bending Caridee's extremely patient ear about her weight, and Caridee promises to support her and help her. Man, Caridee is WAY nicer than I am.
Tyra Mail! It's full of terrible bodice-ripper prose. This doesn't bode well for the girls.
The day's photoshoot will be in the style of romance novel covers! Yay! Hee hee!
And the person they will all be working with that day?
Fucking FABIO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my God! This may even be more tacky fun than Janice!
Isn't he, like, old enough to be the girls' grandfather? Frankly, it's kinda creepy, but whatever. He seems nice and very professional during the shoot, after which he says, "I can't believe I get paid for this!"
Neither can we, sweetheart. Anyhoo...
Jaeda is Dracula's very willing victim. Jay calls her "limp."
Eugena is Fabio's secret lover. Seems to be "running on 3/4 of a tank of gas."
Michelle has a secret love child. Uh, is this a common theme in romance novels? Because, big nursing boobs aside, this doesn't sound very enticing to me. And Michelle ain't feelin' it, either. She's very uncomfortable snuggling in bed with Fabio.
Caridee is a peasant in love with a rich man. Jay calls all her film "beyond orgasmic." ... Okay then.
Melrose is a madam in a brothel. Seriously? The shoot is hot, bordering on hootchie, but what do you expect?
Amanda is leaving her husband... for another woman!!! C'mon, people. She's gay -- we get it. We don't need to beaten over the head with it at every opportunity. Wait a minute... isn't Michelle the gay one? I'm so confused.
Anchal is Cleopatra and looks fabulous. She completely lets herself go, everyone agrees.
Brooke is desparate for her man to stay, but in real life, she has no experience from which to draw, so her photo looks empty and fake.
Tyra Mail! Judging.
Judging happens to fall on the same night as Brooke's graduation ceremony. I predict Brooke and Anchal to be the Bottom Two, but really, Jaeda is the one who should go home.
At judging, Miss J is wearing a mohawk and a green headband. I don't know where he gets off telling anyone they don't look like a model.
Twiggy, on the other hand, is scrumptious in braids and a narrow tie. Cute!
The girls will be judged on both of their photos -- the B&W one that Tyra took, and the one they had with Fabio.
Anchal's B&W is pretty, which wasn't really the point. She looks totally in control of Fabio in the other photo, but her bootie grinding into his groin is a little hootchie. Ew.
Amanda's B&W is very creepy and "high fashion." Her innocence really comes out with Fabio, which the judges find sexy.
Caridee blew Tyra away in their B&W photoshoot. Tyra says that her ability to commit to a pose is insane, like she's never seen in a model before. Which, I guess, is a compliment. On the other hand, the photo with Fabio really shows her soft side, and the judges find it "stunning."
Brooke is very young and looks very young, but is very different on set and in her B&W photo. Her body language with Fabio is great, but her close-up shows no expression. The judges "aren't feelin' it." And in her defense, if I was 18, I wouldn't want to be "feelin'" Fabio's trouser snake, either.
Michelle "took a chance" in her B&W photo and stuck out her tongue, which Tyra loves. Michelle cops to being uncomfortable with Fabio because she's never been in bed with a man. Tyra calls bullshit on that. She's never done in real life ANY of the things they've been called on to do in photoshoots. "That's no excuse."
Eugena, ironically, showed the strongest eyes in her B&W photo than she has shown all along. Because they're not her eyes! And then Tyra reems her out for it being a good photo because she really is evil, but she's not likable, and she doesn't really seem to want to be there. And you know Tyra -- there's no greater sin than not wanting to be on her show with all your heart! Her photo with Fabio is "great body, no eyes." Dance, ten; looks, three. Get yourself some eye implants or something, Eugene.
Melrose's B&W isn't evil enough. Oh, so many jokes, so little energy to make them because I'm still deathly ill. Mel's photo with Fabio is "obvious." The judges say she does sexy well and needs to work on the other stuff.
Jaeda is scary and scared. I must say, her B&W photo looks like she's gonna go completely psycho-ninja-alien on someone's ass. But in her Fabio photo, her fear shows in her face, and she admits to her discomfort with having him that close. "I felt his breath on my neck." *shudder*
Deliberations: Brooke is too "pagaent," Anchal is too pretty but lacks confidence, Amada is "most improved," Jaeda is "weak and strong," Caridee is too eager, Eugena...
At this point, someone called me, and I stupidly answered the phone, so I missed the rest of the deliberations. But they rarely have anything to do with the actual elimination, anyway.
As Tyra is handing out photos, I notice that Jaeda has really broad shoulders. This gives me hope that, were I not almost-37 and a "plus-sized model," I'd be able to compete on ANTM. In fact, I had a dream to that effect last night. I was a contestant named Kennedy. I guess my Gen-X mom named me after her favorite MTV V.J.
Anyhoo, Brooke and Eugena are in the Bottom Two. Eugena has dead eyes and needs to learn humility and respect, but it's hilarious, gorgeous Brooke they send home.
KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!!!!!!
What the fuck was that?! Brooke was their Golden Child last week! Why the big change? Did Tyra catch her stealing from her on-set fridge?
Brooke is as shocked as the rest of us, and cries about missing "my friggin' high school graduation." Well! Miss Tyra takes GREAT offense at this, so Brooke quickly backpedals and assures her that "this is where I'd rather be." Tyra can be so self-centered sometimes.
Next week: the girls are flying and attacking, and I'm hoping the stress of the physical shoots makes someone cry. Also, Anchal and Melrose are at each other's throats. You know, they keep building it up like there's gonna be a cat fight, but it's never more than empty threats and schoolyard insults. I'm not getting my hopes up anymore.
Posted at 12:00 PM | Comments (0)October 25, 2006
I'm Hot-Blooded, Check It 'n' See
I just took a four-hour nap. Which means I'm really sick, and that this sore throat isn't just from laughing with Vicki 'n' Nicki last night.
(We saw "Marie Antoinette," and I must say, there are far too few shoe 'n' pastry montages in my life. If you go see this movie, get really stoned first. You won't regret it.)
If I weren't sick, I would have taken a one-and-a-half hour nap. That is the nap of a normal person (not the 20 minute naps Husband takes and then has the gall to feel completely refreshed afterwards).
But a four hour nap means my body is fighting something. And for once, it's not the urge to punch someone.
Posted at 03:26 PM | Comments (2)October 23, 2006
Hey, Sarge, Can You Help Me With My Boot?
This is what my dad considers appropriate dinner conversation. At someone else's house. The hostess and I were discussing manicures.
"In the army, our sergeant had a finger where the tip had been cut off right at the base of the nail. The nail grew out of the end like a talon. He was really good at untying knots."
Mm-hm.
Lemonade from lemons, you see.
Posted at 01:23 PM | Comments (0)October 20, 2006
"The Girl Who Punk'd Ashton"
I think this episode's title is misleading. I had to think for a few seconds about what the hell it meant, and that's not good. Was Ashton on this show...?
I know I told "America's Next Top Model" to be more creative with their titles, but this is just too obscure. It should've been called, "The Girl Who Loved Her Hat" because, well, if you've seen the episode, you've seen A.J.'s hat. I'm not convinced that A.J. didn't find a pair of Monique's discarded panties and put them on her head.
So. Previously, rocker girl left, taking another little piece of our hearts now, baby.
As an homage to Megg, Caridee plays the guitar and sings. Quite well. Weird.
A.J. misses Megg and has lost some of her spirit or something. Which is gay, yes, but Melrose mocks her for having a soul. I think Mel is just jealous and hopes to one day see her own reflection in a mirror.
Jaeda is upset about being in the bottom two twice. I... can't seem to muster up any empathy.
The girls sit around and talk about how the twins, even though they look alike, are really, like, different. It's pretty heavy stuff, this theory. I wonder if they're stoned? Wouldn't that be awesome if the camera crew was giving them weed?
Michelle agrees that, indeed, she is different from Amanda, and drives home her point by stating, "I think I might be gay."
Amanda kinda wigs a little and doesn't want to talk about it, to Michelle, to the other girls or to the interview camera. She's probably wondering, If she's gay, and we're twins, am I gay, too?
Tyra Mail! Something about there are no stupid questions, but sometimes people ask stupid questions, so... wow. They just blew my mind again. More weed, please!
The girls meet talking head Mark Steiner from Entertainment Tonight, who is going to teach them how to get a good interview. Which is different from other seasons, when the girls has to give a good interview. Maybe they thought this would be easier for them?
Caridee jokes around, Jaeda keeps spitting. It's weird and off-putting. And gross.
Michelle is kinda cute, but Amanda is boring as hell. See? Different!
A.J. gets stage fright. Melrose does -- I hate to admit it -- pretty good. But then she bitches that she gets no support from the girls. Is she kidding?! Like telling Anchal that she needs to loose weight is "support?" Bitch.
Amanda is still upset about Michelle being bi or gay.
Tyra Mail! She bites, so beware... something that starts with an S... I can't read my notes here.
Oh! JANICE!!! Someone named Geoffrey Thomas is having some show for his jewelry, and the girls are going to be interviewing Janice on the red carpet! Oh, man, I don't envy them. I mean, I love Janice, but you know she's going to fuck with them.
We are then treated to a Janice montage made up of all her craziest moments, all the reasons why we love her, in a neat little package set to music. I want that for my screensaver. Can one of you flying monkeys get on that?
Caridee calls Janice "over-pungent" because she can't think of the word she's looking for. So what word rhymes with pungent that could desribe Janice?
Brooke's all, "So what makes you so bitchy?" Oh no, she DIH-IN'T! Yes, she did, people. Yes, she did. She'll be dead by dawn.
Michelle sucks. Amanda... I don't know. She's probably wondering if Janice is gay.
Janice just can't get past A.J.'s bad hat, which Janice says it looks like she used it to wash the car.
Melrose is, again, kinda good. God, it's so painful to type that!
Jaeda spits some more.
To the surprise of no one, Melrose wins by Mark and Janice's unanimous decision. Well, it takes one to know one, doesn't it, Janice? Don't worry, honey, I still love ya.
Tyra comes in early the next morning and wakes the girls up. Dude, that would totally freak me out, seeing Tyra on my bed, watching me while I sleep. *shudder* Even worse, she has descended like the Angel of Healing to bestow help and guidance. See, THIS is the portion of the show that Janice should be handling.
Tyra sees a picture of herself on the fridge that A.J. drew. And how cute that the other girls hung it on the fridge like childrens' art. Tyra praises A.J.'s drawing abilities, saying that the likeness is good and most people make her look like an alien. Uh... I'm gonna leave that one alone. It's too obvious.
A.J. interviews that she feels alone, and that Mel is very abraisive.
Mel interviews that she can be over-confident, which pushes people away. And we all know what "over-confident" is code for, don't we?
Eugena cries and says that she can be cold, and that comes out in her photos, so she has to work on it.
Caridee says that, until three months ago, she had really bad psoriasis and never showed her skin, and now she's modeling with bare legs and can't believe it. Meh. I can see how psoriasis would be horrible, but compared to Lupis, it only gets a 4 on my Disease Meter.
Michelle says that while she feels like she's opening up, she feels like Amanda isn't being herself anymore.
Amanda tells Tyra that she's scared for her sister, coming out on national television like that, and America doesn't have a right to know. You know what I think? I think Amanda's hurt that her TWIN SISTER told her biggest secret to a bunch of strangers and the whole country before telling Amanda. And you know what else? I'm totally with Amanda here. I'd feel totally betrayed, too. But Tyra isn't about the empathizing, she's about the preaching. So she tells Amanda that Michelle really needs support and needs her to be her rock now.
After commercials, we see that Amanda has taken Tyra's words to heart and is with Michelle in the phone both as Michelle breaks the news to their mom.
The mom is like, "Okay. We love you no matter what!"
And then Michelle says, "I love you, too. Happy Mother's Day."
Oh my God. That's what she gave her mom for Mother's Day?!
Then we see Mel interviewing "stars" on the red carpet. She dances with... some guy. And then the flirts with the tall one from "Supernatural," the one who is not Jensen Ackles. She also gets Tyra to take off her uncomfortable shoes.
All in all, I have to admit,... oh, I can't. I just can't! I hate her too much!
Tyra Mail! You're going to pose with the person who knows you best. The girls think they are going to see their families, and I must confess to a morbid curiosity on this particular topic.
But no. Jay dashes my hopes. They're going to pose with themselves, as both halves of famous couples. Heh. I knew the J's would work a little tranny-fest in here somewhere.
Caridee is Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Hee! They even bring in a couple of kids and a fake baby for them to pose with! The pose is typical Brangelina -- her walking ahead, him trailing behind with the kids. And Caridee pulls off a really good Angelina here.
Brooke is Britney and K-Fed. Oh, the poor dear. I'm scared to watch her taint her fabulous self with re-enactments of K-Fed's ass-hattery. She poses with a yellow python as Britney and is really cool about it, much to the chagrin of the producers, I'm sure, who were hoping for some tears.
Eugena is Beyonce and Jay-Z. Jayzee? I don't even know. I don't know enough about either of these people to know if she does a good job, but Jay seems to love it.
A.J. is J Lo and Marc Anthony. Hmm. Weird choice for her, but okay. You can tell she feels retarded because she doesn't get into it at all.
Michelle is Ellen DeGeneres and Portia DeRossi. Cute! She does really, really well and nails both personalities perfectly. So to speak.
Amanda is Demi Moore and Ashton Kuscher. Vomit. She's totally into it, and everyone loves her, but I just hate those two too much.
Jaeda is Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston. Wow. They really hate Jaeda. But she gets an A for effort from Jay.
Anchal is Oprah and Stedman. They don't even need last names. She rocks as Oprah (nice fat joke, Tyra), but the Stedman make-up is pathetic.
Melrose is Donald Trump and Melania. She nails them both on the first shot. Seriously. Jay is so impressed, he jokes, "You make me sick. Just leave."
Tyra Mail! Judging!
Tyra is wearing yet another pirate-inspired corset. Am I playing hard-to-get, Tyra? Cuz I don't mean to. You know you can Gmail me, baby! And if you're too shy, just have Janice do it. We'll all go shopping, and you and I can bet on how many times she falls down -- winner buys lunch!
Eugena has dead eyes. Brooke is hilarious and raps for the judges. Jaeda and A.J. suck. Mel is brilliant. So, no surprises there.
The judges eat donuts during deliberations because Tyra is so upset that the only thing Anchal knows about her HERO Oprah is that she takes her plane to go get donuts, so she drowns her sorrows in donuts. Is it just me, or are the judges trying too hard to be zany, now that Janice is gone?
Jaeda and A.J. are in the bottom two, and I know in my bones that Jaeda is going home. But my bones are wrong, and Jaeda stays.
A.J. gives the most comprehensive loser speech ever, something to the effect of:
"Melrose, you have it. You should be nice to the other girls. I believe Tyra eliminated me for the right reasons. I feel like I gave up my spot for someone who wanted it more, and that's okay. Maybe I even sabotaged myself a little?"
Ironically, A.J. is also the viewer's choice Cover Girl of the Week.
Next week, scary drag queens and Battle of the Bitches! Bring it!
Posted at 01:21 PM | Comments (1)October 19, 2006
Mea Culpa
Headache. Cramps. No blog. ANTM tomorrow, I promise.
Posted at 01:56 PM | Comments (2)October 18, 2006
Crackers
Up north with PJ, there is a certain restaurant that we frequent, particularly for breakfast. Which they serve all day long because breakfast is the yummiest meal of the day and comes with a side of bacon.
We went there so often, the staff started to recognize us... and then probably got sick of us. One evening, we went to a different restaurant for dinner because they have beer cheese soup, and then drove across the street for pumpkin pie at our Usual Restaurant.
Yes, we drove across the street. What? You can't just leave your car in the parking lot and go to another restaurant! That's totally rude!
Our waiter was probably our age but had a California surfer thing going on, which isn't really my type and is definately out-of-place in Wisconsin. But PJ thought he was cute, so we chatted him up. It was late, and we were almost the only people in there, so he had time.
I asked where he was from, but I didn't get the answer I expected:
"I'm from St. Paul, and so is my girlfriend. Her friend is from around here and used to have a restaurant around St. Paul. But then she closed it and moved back here and opened this place.
"She kept asking us to come down and work for just the fall because that's the time when the kids go back to school, but the businesses have one more busy month to get through before things drop off for the winter.
"So we came down in September. But we had, like, a million things to do on the day we were supposed to leave, so we didn't get on the road until 11:00 at night. By the time we got here, it was 5:00 in the morning, and my girlfriend was supposed to be at work at 6:00. I didn't have to be in until 7:00, so at least I got an hour of sleep.
"But I got here, and I'm totally exhausted, and I haven't eaten, and I can't focus. And we work a fifteen-hour day! So I go to our friend, Dude, I haven't eaten or slept or anything. Can I just grab something to eat real quick?
"And she's like, We eat after the lunch rush. Grab some crackers. You know, I really like her as a friend, but I don't think I like working for her."
When I finally stopped laughing and could speak, I said, "So how long have you been here?"
"Four years and one month."
When I looked around to see who we were bothering with our cackling, I noticed we had long cleared out the place. D'oh!
Posted at 02:26 PM | Comments (0)October 17, 2006
An Interesting Place To Keep One's Keys
Oh. My. Sweet. Lord.
I saw another man's penis this weekend, ladies and gentlemen. And it was weird.
But it totally doesn't count as adultery because it's owner is gay, and I didn't even touch it! In fact, I shrieked embarassingly like a virgin, then pointed and laughed.
...
Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
Remember my friend Big, Gay Joe, of Barbie-enabling fame? Well, he, a grown man, throws himself a big birthday party every year. With champagne and meatballs and presents and singing and everything. I think it's awesome, but then again, you know how I feel about presents!
I don't think I've missed many of his parties in the... twelve? years that I've known him. Sometimes I bring a girl friend (safety in numbers). Sometimes I brave it alone, and the only people there I know are Joe and his nephew Ken, the token straight guy.
Since I've been to so many of Joe's parties, it's to the point now where I know a few more people. Charlie, the model/dancer. Lawrence, the theatre nerd. Monica, the biker lesbian.
I know what you're thinking. Wenchie HATES people! And small talk! I can't believe she'd willingly walk into a party like that ALONE!
Actually, it's much easier than a non-gay party. At non-gay parties, all the guys are staring at my boobs, and all the chicks are staring at my boobs and hating me for them. At non-gay parties, I'm a freak for being 36, for not having reproduced and for having teenaged step daughters. At non-gay parties, you have to talk about where you work, where you grew up and where you live now.
At Joe's party, we talked about how long it would take Arlene to recognize Craig, since he wasn't dressed as "Gina," and how were the lesbians going to get the cake to the party on their motorcycle? And, for some reason, it's not as annoying when women stare at my chest -- probably the novelty factor.
I love Joe's parties. I'm completely white bread, and oh, how the gay men love to take me under their wings and talk trash with me! They think they're educating me, and I am a rapt pupil because gay men are Thee Most Hilarious People On Earth!!! Especially black gay men. Is that racist?
Anyhoo, this year, Husband came with me. Willingly and of his own accord! And with little or no trepidation. See, he works in a field where, if he were a homo-phobe, he wouldn't be the successful, filthy-rich man that he is.
We sat on the couch with Charlie and "Gina" and made fun of all the other guests. Then we moved on to the guests who weren't there but had been in past years.
Gina kept calling me into the kitchen to do shots with him and tell me how cute Husband is. He actually used the words "puppy dog eyes." Yeah, Husband will be hearing that every, single day for quite some time.
Charlie called me into the kitchen and whipped out his wang.
See, Charlie recently got a Prince Albert and, despite Joe's admonishments to "quit pulling down your damn pants," was very excited to show it off. And really -- if you're going to go through the trouble of getting your penis pierced, why wouldn't you show it to people?
My first reaction was, "Oh my God! It's huge!"
And I suppose Charlie thought I was talking about Charlie Jr., but really, I was talking about the ring. I mean, seriously, it was no delicate earring or something. It was like a Tiffany key ring! HUGE!
But I let him think I was talking about his johnson.
And no, I don't have a photo. I really do need to upgrade to a camera phone for events like this. I'm sure Mom has never seen a Prince Albert, and that's what my blog is all about -- education.
Posted at 01:01 PM | Comments (0)October 16, 2006
The Curse of the Brown Pants
If you want to retain your sanity -- and your friends -- never, ever utter these words:
"I just have to go to one store, and I know exactly what I need. I don't even have to try it on, so it'll take, like, 30 seconds, I swear. Then we can go eat lunch."
Apparently, these words are actually a secret spell that unleashes an ancient, time-sucking curse.
I unwittingly chanted these words on the way to Forth & Towne today with New Girl, who was starving and wasting away to nothing (because she's 22 and didn't have her oatmeal that morning, so most of her ribs were showing because she actually has a working metabolism).
They had every damn size but 12, so I asked the saleslady if she had any in the back because these particular Vocabulary pants are not a seasonal item. They are a staple. They are there ALWAYS. This particular style, this particular brand. So wouldn't you think they'd had tons in stock? Nope -- no 12.
So can you order them for me?
Well, I can see if they have them at another store, and they can send them to you?
Great!
For five dollars.
Whatever.
Why don't you try on a pair of 12s in a different color, just to make sure they fit?
Good idea.
Okay,... hmmm,... not in the black,... okay, and the grey,... hmmm,... we seem to be all out of 12s!
That's weird.
Let me see if we have any of the 12s in any other color in the back.
Alrighty then.
...Nope, no 12s in back, either.
Well, if I get them and they don't fit, can I return them here?
Sure!
Okay, let's do that then.
I'll call our store in Algonquin.
Soon after she got some schmoe in Algonquin on the phone, another woman came up to the register, and saleslady started helping her! Mind you, at the time, employees out-numbered shoppers in the store and, indeed, the entire mall.
So she was describing the pants while trying to entice the other shopper into their frequent buyer program or whatever. Finally, chick on the phone came back and had the pants in stock, so saleslady, naturally, PUT HER ON HOLD to help the woman who showed up well after I did.
Well, my pissy incredulity must have showed on my face, so she went back to giving my information to the woman on the phone while collecting the other woman's information for their points program. I'm probably going to start getting her mail now.
I have two beefs with this saleslady. One, I was there first. Finish helping me before you start helping someone else. It's simple -- we all learned it in kindergarten. And it's especially important for this particular saleslady because of my second beef, and that is that she was completely incapable of any decent multi-tasking.
Doing two things half-assedly is not multi-tasking. Doing two things well is. It's called What Normal Women Do Every Minute Of Every Day. Bitch multi-tasks like a guy!
Then she asked me how I wanted to pay, and I handed her a big wad of cash I had gotten from the ATM specifically for the purchase of these pants.
And she's like, "Oh, I can't do cash over the phone. I need a credit card."
THEN WHY DID YOU ASK ME FOR MY CREDIT CARD INSTEAD OF IMPLYING I HAD ANY OPTIONS?!?!
*pant* *pant* *pant*
For the love of all things pure and rainbow-colored, I just wanted some goddamn brown pants; New Girl was losing her battle with scurvy under a display of cableknit sweaters; and the saleswoman couldn't pay attention to ANY of the seventeen pieces of information she was supposed to be dealing with.
And the really funny part is? I now know who the other woman at the counter is because she gave her email address, and she clearly has her own website. So I looked it up and, sure enough, it's her.
But I'm not giving it to you because it's not her fault the saleslady was a retard.
Did I mention that the saleslady finished with the other woman before she finished with me? Yeah. Stupid bitch. It was the most ridiculous bit of customer service I've ever seen. Abbot and Costello are confused and weeping in their graves right now.
I'd better get my damn pants, soon. 'Cuz I spilled nail polish on my other pair.
Posted at 03:06 PM | Comments (2)October 13, 2006
"The Girl Who Joined the Circus"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Monique was a bitch, was struck down by God with the plague, and got eliminated. Watch and learn, kiddies. It's a little thing called karma.
Amanada interviews that "justice is served." And Melrose expresses "relief." I hope Monique's mother watched this episode. In fact, I hope she watched all of them. I wonder what she thinks of her princess on the throne wiping her skeevy undies all over the place?
Okay, enough obsessing on her. We will never understand her, and I refuse to give her any more blog space. She is dead to me.
The girls are playing that old womens' prison movie favorite -- How Many Girls Can We Fit In the Shower? Oh. My. God. I just can't say enough good things about this.
Also? Who's idea was it to put a group shower stall in the house? Tyra's? Nigel's? Those cheeky monkeys!
Too bad we don't get to see them washing each other's hair.
Of course, they all feel so naughty, so there's much shrieking and cackling echoing off the tile walls. Mel comes in and asks them to be quiet so she can get three hours of sleep -- what the hell? They are group-showering at three o'clock in the morning?!
Okay, I totally see Mel's point here, as much as I hate to admit it. But Megg calls her a bitch, and Brooke calls her Little Miss Know It All. Hee!
To be fair, Mel is completely in the right here. Three a.m. is for sleeping, and it's not unreasonable to expect people to keep their voices down. However, I think the girls would be much more likely to cooperate were Mel not such an intolerable bitch at every other hour of the day, so she really dug her own grave here.
Jaeda interviews that she feels like a boy and that people on the street don't know if she's a boyish girl or a girlish boy. Well, then, throw some make-up on, idiot!
Anchal interviews that she is "the voluptuous girl in the house," and she's used to "having to live with it." Yeah, girl has got a rack. Then she says she's "used to hearing crap about me." Ooh! Spoiler!
Tyra Mail! "Don't get it twisted!" Oh, geez, who was that crazy, stupid broad who said that? Was it Furonda? I can't believe Tyra quoted her, whoever she was. Anyway, something about "bend over backwards," which I guess is better than the usual bend over and grab your ankles.
And we meet Stacey McKenzie, some fugly model who is a judge on "Canada's Next Top Model." There's a "Canada's Next Top Model?!" Holy shit! What channel is that on? Is Tyra on it? Must Google...
Awesome! It looks like they're in between seasons now, but I plan to keep my eye on this, see if Canadian bitches are any crazier than American bitches.
Anyhoo, some guy who is made of rubber and clearly not human shows them the basics of "extreme editorial poses." Just when I think I know all there is about modeling, that Tyra opens up a whole new aspect for me. God bless that woman.
Mel does yoga -- oh, of course, she does -- so she's all confident that she'll be the best and blah blah blah. But Anchal surprises -- and grosses out -- all of us by walking on the top of her own head. Weird.
Mel, the new Black Chick Who Everyone Hates But Isn't Black, is quite put out by this and retaliates by, basically, calling Anchal fat, to her face, in front of everyone. Oh, sure, she thinly veils it as concern for Anchal's lack of exercise, but I doubt Anchal's resting heart rate is keeping Mel up at night. To her credit, Anchal shuts her down and walks away.
Then comes the drama we've all been waiting for!
Not content with merely calling Anchal fat, Mel has to sit in the jacuzzi with Jaeda and the twins and rag on her. Mel's problem with Anchal is that Anchal says she doesn't think of herself as pretty, but Mel thinks that's a total act, and Anchal knows she's pretty.
I'm sure no one gives a crap what Anchal really thinks of herself because at least she doesn't run her damn mouth 24/7. The twins are silent and kind of look uncomfortable, like, You know, all we wanted was a nice soak. Jaeda sort of defends Anchal by saying she's incredibly beautiful, but I guess this could also back-up Mel's argument, so I'm not sure what to think.
Except to think that they're retarded to talk smack about ANYONE in front of a dozen cameras. Haven't they seen any of the past shows? Do they think they're gonna come out smelling like roses? Don't they know how the writers love to assign and exploit a House Bitch?
And for the record, when someone spends their formative years ugly, then grows up to be beautiful, it's a well-known fact that they often have a very difficult time accepting their beauty. It's called the Ugly Duckling Syndrome.
Anchal and the others overhear all of this, and Anchal starts bawling.
A.J. immediately starts to comfort her and hug her, "They're the fake ones. They don't matter. We got your back." We being her and Megg, I guess, who is there, too. And is anyone surprised that the emo chick is all over the drama?
The girls are whisked away to dinner at the Oasis with special guest, Twiggy. Who... wears sunglasses all through dinner. Huh. I wouldn't have pegged Twiggy for that level of pretentiousness, but whatever. I still like her.
She talks to the girls about how the styles of poses have changed over the years. Which, really, can that be more than a 30 second conversation? Sheesh.
Caridee and Michelle interview that all the girls thought Melrose was totally sucking up to Twiggy, and that she sucks up to everyone (who isn't competing against her).
Tyra Mail! Tyra calls them "catty bitches," and some of the girls laugh nervously. But then she says something about "knocking her off her pedestal," and I start to wonder if she's watching the dailies.
But no, the girls have to do extreme editorial poses on pedestals for some fashion show. Speaking of pretentious! Someone named Bao describes her collection as "decadent." And Erica Courtney brings out 10 pieces of jewelry totalling $32,000. The girls have to pair a piece of jewelry with an outfit blah blah blah.
Bao wants them to look like fairy divas or diva fairies or something. Picture Elton John.
The poses are weird. I honestly can't tell who's good and who's not. But Eugena is the winner and will be taking home the $32,000 worth of jewelry. DAMN! Good prize! And she doesn't even have to share it!
Oh, Christ, will Mel ever shut up? She blah blah blahs with excuses and lectures and OHMYGODSHUTUPALREADY! Can she not read the body language of the other girls? They couldn't be more obviously done with her if they were holding up signs!
Thank God it's time for the girls to have a heart-to-heart with Tyra because she's sure to straighten all this out.
Anchal confesses that she heard Mel talking smack about her, and Mel doesn't even have the good sense to look remorseful. Bitch. I mean, when I get caught talking smack, at least I have the decency to feel like crap.
Jaeda stupidly backs Mel up and says that Anchal is fake and knows she's pretty. And again -- WHAT THE HELL DOES ANYONE CARE?!
Mel is flippant through the whole thing, and Tyra encourages Anchal to stand up for herself. God, I wish Janice had been there. She would have tackled Mel to the ground, bitched her out for ragging on her "sister," and then spit on her prone body and walked away. Tyra sucks.
Mel interviews that feels like she's "singled out as the mean one." Well, duh.
Tyra Mail! Something about "freaks of nature." She's got them pegged.
The shoot is in the middle of the desert, two hours away from their house at a circus. Awe. Some. The girls will be dressed up like freak show attractions for a dark and moody shoot. (Please let Mel be the fat lady.)
Now, I admit, it's been a long time since I've been to the circus or seen a good freak show (besides Thanksgiving), but these freak show "stereotypes" aren't really ringing a bell. As cool as the premise is, I think they fell short with the freakiness.
Here's the breakdown...
Megg: bearded lady
Jaeda: strong woman (which I'm sure did nothing for her tranny insecurities)
A.J.: cannibal
Caridee: elephant woman (she's not an animal!)
Brooke: rubber girl
Melrose: old lady face with hot body
Michelle & Amanda: Siamese twins, joined at the forehead (and they actually say Siamese twins, not conjoined twins, like Tyra wouldn't jump all over my ass for saying black instead of African-American)
Eugena: bird lady
Anchal: giant lady
Everyone confused now? Good. Because the editor of Seventeen magazine is there, too. To watch.
Anchal, Mel and A.J. all do awesome, which is really going to piss Mel off some more.
Afterwards, Megg and A.J. both cry and talk about how worried they are about their performances. Jaeda feels like she's going home.
There's a photo of Tyra as a ring leader (and really -- could there be a more apt metaphor?), and we're into judging. The Seventeen editor is there as the guest judge.
A.J. is strong with good energy and intensity.
Eugena looks best when she makes eye contact.
Brooke's lovely body language made for a haunting photo.
Michelle and Amanda have to practice not having the light hit their chin in a weird way, but the judges love their legs.
Anchal took a beautiful photo, but she doesn't look like a giant.
Jaeda's face is snarly, she needed too much coaching, and her poses look like bad acting.
Melrose looks wrinkled but hot, disturbing but good.
Megg looks like she's waiting to start. She cries and says that she's worried, and it comes out in her face. She's disappointed in herself. Tyra loves a good cry and self-realization, so she and Nigel offer comforting but hollow words.
Caridee wasn't inhibited by her nose.
In deliberations, the judges are down on Jaeda but up on Caridee. Twiggy thinks that Jaeda's airbrushed abs are real. Oh, Twiggy.
Jaeda and Megg are the final two. They look pissed and scared, respectively. ...or maybe that's just how they normally look?
What it comes down to is that Megg has the personality but looks like ass in photos, and Jaeda is gorgeous but retarded. So we all know how this is going to end. Jaeda stays, Megg goes home.
WOOOOOOOOOOO! ROCK 'N' ROOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!
That was for you, Megg. We'll miss you. You were just beginning to not annoy me with your mere presence on screen, and we'll always remember your Blossom-y smile.
A.J. is visibly bummed. Megg thanks Tyra for the opportunity and hugs her. Very sweet and classy. There's lots of crying and hugging among the girls, and I'm thinking that Megg was more well-liked than we were shown. Well, well-liked doesn't boost the ratings as much as bitchery.
Next week -- oh my God! Michelle confesses that she "might be gay," and really, where better to come out of the closet than in a house of straight girls on national television? God, I love this show. Also...
JANICE!!!
Oh, sweet mother of all that is good and righteous, Janice is back, looking impeccably groomed and pissed!
Posted at 12:54 PM | Comments (0)October 12, 2006
Princess Charming
There had better be some tiny goddamn packages waiting for me when I get home today.
Yes, I've been eBaying again, my friends. I currently have 620 individual Feedbacks. I'm so eGay.
Lucky for me, The Girl Child has always been quite the little fashion plate, so her outgrown clothes are selling very well. And my 20% commission of very well is nothing to sneeze at!
(Yes, I'm charging my own sister commission. Dude, she gave me SIXTEEN BOXES of clothes to sell! Do you know how many articles of clothing can fit into one box when they're size 3T ???)
Recently, I have become obsessed with charm bracelets. And not just any charm bracelets -- those vintage, silver charm bracelets with the travel charms and such that were so popular in the 40's through the 70's.
I think it's the tininess that fixates me, much like my fondness for little chairs. The tiny windmills and bicycles and trolley cars -- DYYYYY-ing of the cuteness!
And I would love to blame Heather's Mom's vintage charm bracelet for it all because, really, I enjoy blaming Heather's family for anything. Childproof medicine bottles? Heather's brother. Hate crime laws? Heather's Dad.
But, although Heather's Mom's bracelet is really cool, I think it was a conversation with Older Sister that planted the charm seed. I was ragging at her for not wearing the Tiffany bracelet I gave her for standing up in my wedding because -- IT'S A TIFFANY BRACELET! It's needs air and love and sunshine and attention!
And she's like, "Oh, yeah! I have to wear that sometime! I just... it's in my jewelry box, which is really packed, and if I don't see it, then I forget I have it."
And as much as I'd love to mock her for that, I can't because I, too, was born with The Ditzy Gene. (Thanks, Mom.) My maternal grandmother will forever be remembered by the phrase, "Now where did I put my purse...?"
For whatever reason, talking about her jewelry box sparked a really, really old memory for me. Older Sister has an old, silver charm bracelet that I used to LOVE looking at and playing with. I just remember it has a little bulldog charm, which is weird because I don't even know if she's ever even seen a bulldog in person.
I am obsessed with charm bracelets, and it's all her fault. I am giving her full credit on this one because it doesn't happen very often that she influences my life. She leads a life of virtue and charity and serving others and... well, you see my problem.
So I sold a ton of Girl Child's clothes and made a truckload of money, and I started searching eBay for vintage bracelets and charms. Seriously, I probably spent twenty hours a day for two weeks on eBay.
What? There are a lot of silver charms out there! And I'm very particular.
After much searching (and wringing of the hands, since most of the really good sellers are in England, and shipping costs are a bitch!), I found a charm I couldn't live without and bought a bracelet from the same seller (to save on shipping).
I introduce to you, the only damn charm of it's kind ever to be found on eBay...
Wenchie's Viking Longboat Charm
Isn't it beautiful?! I love it so, so very much. Every five minutes, I dangle it in front of my eyes and coo and fawn and sigh, so enamored am I with my viking longboat charm.
And now, I will be Completely Insufferable. I will wear my charm bracelets everywhere and jangle them incessantly, and everyone in a 50 yard radius will be required to inspect them and remark upon them. Each and every time I see you.
Consider yourself warned.
TINY HOUSES! Oh, gawd, little, tiny houses! That open and have things inside them! Things!!!
Posted at 12:52 PM | Comments (3)October 11, 2006
The Princess and the Pea
It's fairly common knowledge that, in order to get Husband to marry me, I brewed a special potion in my pewter cauldron and slipped it into his guinness. Soon after the wedding, reality set in, and he started waking up to a cranky zombie each morning.
Not wishing to have his brains devoured for breakfast, we bought a Select Comfort Sleep Number Bed. Yes, he's a bit jealous that my love for my side of the bed is deeper than my love for him, but it's a small price to pay for keeping one's cranium intact, and he understands that.
My sleep number is 70. I like a fairly firm mattress. I have become so in tune with my mattress that I can tell when it has slipped down to 65. And it just won't do.
Over the weekend, PJ and I went up to the Pumpkin Patch Fest in Wisconsin. Unfortunately, so did half of the population of Chicago, and I didn't call for reservations until two weeks before. My regular hotel (I walk in, and they go, "Norm!") was booked solid. As was every other hotel in the area. Stupid tourists!
(See, I can say that because I'm not a stupid tourist. I own property in Wisconsin. I pay taxes. Yeah, I'm the worst kind of F.I.B. -- I'm a F.I.B.W.A.C.*)
In a panic, I started calling every hotel in the county, in alphabetical order. I finally got us in a room, in the R's.
I'll give you a full description of the room tomorrow. For now, let's concentrate on the slab of concrete upon which they had thrown a (filthy) comforter. It was like sleeping on the floor, and I am not in any way exaggerating for comedic effect. (Obviously, because that sentence wasn't funny.)
On our list of Things To Do the next day was Local Farmers Market, Apple Orchard, Pottery Store and Fudge. But first, we drove half an hour to the nearest Target and bought an air mattress and an electric air pump. I shit you not. There was no way I was going to risk permanant spinal damage -- not even for fresh Cherry Rum Fudge.
We finally got back to our room, after twelve hours of shopping and gorging ourselves, at 9:30 p.m. You know how loud an electric air pump is at 9:30 at night? I thought we were going to get kicked out. But sleeping in the car would have been preferrable to sleeping on that damn bed, so we forged bravely ahead. Neighbors be damned!
It took some time to tweak it until it was finally the right firmness. It would be fine for me, but then too hard once PJ got on it, too.
There was no way we were going to put it on the floor because we were afraid something would scurry over us during the night, so we put it on top of the bed. So we were, like, five feet off the ground. There was no graceful way to get in and out of it. The act took much rolling and leg-flailing for momentum. There's a mental picture for ya.
So, hey, if anyone wants to come visit me, you now have three choices of where to sleep -- Step Daughter's bed, the futon in the basement, or the air mattress in the Barbie room!
* A F.I.B. is a Fucking Illinois Bastard -- a cute, little nickname the Cheeseheads made up for us, in retaliation for the name Cheesehead. Which is kind of like stabbing someone in the kidney after they kick you in the shin, but whatever. A F.I.B.W.A.C. is a F.I.B. with a cabin.
Posted at 02:52 PM | Comments (3)October 10, 2006
Middle Earth Spam Generator
I receive a lot of spam comments on this blog, despite MoveableType's most valiant efforts. Sometimes the sender's intent is stated clearly in the name, i.e. "ambien," "free hotel" and "no prescription viagra."
But the latest generation of spam emails have names made up of completely random letters, obviously to make it more difficult for the filters to catch them. And in skimming them during every morning's little deletion-fest, I've come to the conclusion that they're getting their made-up names from a Tolkien's Middle Earth Name Generator.
For instance...
Uraeseelmi: I believe this elf is Arwen's tailor, the one who made her all those fabulous gowns and that smart jacket she rescued Frodo in.
Fchiwth: Smeagol and Deagol's oft-forgotten second cousin twice-removed, on their mother's side. He was the first to find Deagol's body, but since his cousins had ditched him after promising to take him fishing that day, he simply spat on the corpse and went to look for worms.
Eucbaad: An orc. I'm not sure which one. They all look kinda the same to me. Does that make me racist?
Opias Mimre: A wandering gypsy friend of Grima Wormtongue. Eowyn got hooked on drugs, trying to find a relief for her depression. Needless to say, it worked, which explains all the laughing while leading her people away from their homes and towards certain death, but it did make her very pale. Opias was her supplier.
Helio Tymim: A dwarf. Gimli didn't want to go to the stupid meeting in Rivendell. Helio flipped him for it, and Gimli lost.
Backdoor Creampie: Um... probably a hobbit?
October 06, 2006
"The Girls Who Go To Texas"
This episode should really be entitled, "The Girl Who Made My Husband Leap Off the Couch with Joyous Glee," as we shall see.
Previously... makeover drama, telephone-induced confrontation, blah blah blah.
We start out with some of the girls playing Mattress Stair Slide, and I'm just struck with the awesomeness of it. I mean, you're in this billion dollar house, away from adult supervision (camera men don't count) for probably the first time in your life -- what do you do? MATTRESS STAIR SLIDE!!! It's so adorable, and very Princess Diaries.
Jaeda is still moaning about her hair. Someone voiceovers that Monique or Eugene should have gone home because they're evil bitches and photograph like poop on toast.
Melrose interviews about her seething hatred for Monique, which is pretty much Mel's only redeeming quality, quite frankly. Pot? Kettle? She says Monique better "watch her step" because it's her "butt on the line," or some such nonsense that she's too much of a puss to ever really back up.
The girls go to some... place, and Miss J is there in a tu-tu. Brooke says, "Miss J is a royal mess," but with genuine affection. Tiny girl is growing on me.
The girls are there to learn posture and balance by walking a tightrope, specifically a half-inch-thick cable. There to help are a couple of circus performers. Well. There's something you don't see every day.
Okay, people, Monique is making me miss Jade from last season. I mean, at least when Jade was mad, she tried to be poetic about it and made up new words and was really quite hilarious. Whereas Monique is getting her material from the playground.
"Melrose thinks she's so perfect, and she's not."
*sigh*
Of course, this is because Mel does quite well on the tightrope, as do many other girls, while Monique does not. Fancy a snack, Monique? I have some sour grapes here!
Later, Mel is on the phone with her Mom and -- to the shock of no one -- Monique barges in and starts talking smack. Can't we get a clever bitch in this show? One whose insults go over the other girls' heads? Like -- who was that bulimic, medical student chick with the really short, dark hair? I really don't like that this show is already making me pine for The Ghost of Bitches Past.
Anyhoo, Mel reaches over and gently pushes the door more closed so that it touches Monique's shoulder. It's unsubtle, as hints go, but Monique acts like she CAN'T BELIEVE that someone is sick of her phone room antics.
And then she has to go incredulously tell all the other girls that Mel slammed the door on her. But the other girls aren't having it because they are not wearing helmets and drooling.
If I may weigh in on this issue, I don't hate bitches. In fact, I like a good bitch. A good bitch, mind you. Someone who embraces their bitchhood, executes a bitchy attack with aplomb and takes full credit for it afterwards. None of this passive-aggressive bullshit that you deny wide-eyed five minutes later.
Monique repeats her passive-aggressive bullshit later, when all the girls are asleep, and she's curling her hair in the bathroom with Eugene. (You know the only reason Monique and Eugene "like" each other is because all the other girls hate them both, so they have no choice.)
Monique takes the panties she had been wearing that day and rubs them on the bed Mel is sleeping in. Take my word for it -- this is not as hot as it sounds. Monique is not so much a princess on a throne as she is an animal in a den. God is so embarassed that he's her child.
Then Mon is back in the bathroom, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, what else can I do to disgust them all." Or something to that effect. Meanwhile, Mel and Jaeda wake up and stare at each other in disbelief.
As news spreads of Monique's Worst Panty Raid Ever, the rest of the girls all interview that they are scared of Mon and scared of what she'll do next. Several of the girls are afraid she's going to physically hurt someone. Oh, if only.
Next morning, of course, Mon is trying to play it down like it was no big thing and who hasn't rubbed their used butt-floss on someone else's bed? We've all done it! Right?
Tyra Mail! Something about "your own line." This doesn't bode well. I hope, if they're going to be making clothes, Tyra at least has the presence of mind to supply them with safety scissors.
Wow. Miss J enters through a stone arch wearing what appears to be an oversized lampshade as a dress. Strapless, lots of petticoats. How is it that he manages to keep freaking me out? It's not like I'm a newbie to this show!
Also there? BRE! From a previous season! If you'll remember, she was the one who gained a lot of weight, and was kinda bitchy, but also damn funny, so I kind of liked her. Anyhoo, Miss J introduces her as one of the best walkers from previous shows. I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure she was the only alumni available at a moment's notice.
The girls have five minutes to get into gowns, heels and Mardi Gras masks, then walk a straight line on cobblestones. Lots o' bitches are gonna have sore ankles tomorrow, but not A.J., who wins.
The prize is a photo shoot in Texas, which seems random. Brooke desperately wants to be chose because they'll be in Austin, which is her hometown. But A.J. chooses Megg and Caridee instead, proving that she is, indeed, "different" because who the hell would rather spend all day with poser Megg instead of hilarious Brooke?
The three chosen ones are going to walk in some celebrity charity fashion show bullshit, hosted by Dennis Quaid, and I have to admit, I missed the next several minutes because my jaw was on the floor with the random appearance of Dennis Quaid. I'll explain.
I don't sleep well, so I've been known to occassionally abuse sleeping pills, Benedryl and Nyquil. And when I do, I always have sex dreams about guys I would never, ever in a million years share a taxi with, let alone a passionate, intimate act. For example -- Ashton Kusher, or whateverthefuck his name is.
Tuesday night, I'd had such a dream about Dennis Quaid. VERY DISTURBING! Why, oh why is it never Bruce? Or Christian? Or Joaquin? Why does my subconscious hate me so much? I just thank God it wasn't Randy Quaid because I'd had "Independence Day" on in the background before I went to bed.
So when Dennis Quaid, whom I haven't seen in a movie since... ever, suddenly showed up on my television less than 24 hours after dreaming about him, you can imagine how betrayed I felt by the entire universe.
But the universe made it up to me by smoting down Monique with some terrible illness, including fever and puking. We're even now, universe.
Ah! And I see in my notes that it's called "Dennis Quaid's Celebrity Fashion Weekend." And for the occassion, Dennis has chosen to sport Harrison Ford's wattle. Nice choice, Dennis.
Oh for the love of God. All the other models? Are from past seasons of "America's Next Top Model." There's... the ugly Asian chick and... wow, it doesn't say much about me that I was once so emotionally involved with the lives all so many very, very forgettable girls...
Hey, look! Something shiney!
Tyra Mail! Something about "walk the plank."
Now, Tyra, c'mon, you know these little shout-outs and hints are necessary. I love ya, baby! Just call me! Don't be intimidated! I'm really very humble and down-to-earth, once you get to know me.
Brooke disappoints me by being a good Christian and trying to give Monique what comfort she can. Monique finally goes to the hospital. Jesus, it's the stomach flu, princess. Suck it up and drink some ginger ale. Brooke might even move the t.v. into your bedroom for you.
At the hospital, they just give her some fluids via i.v. and send her home. So they can have the bed for someone who really needs it. Monique goes straight to the photo shoot, as do the girls who were in Texas, right from the airport.
But Mon doesn't last long. She whines to Jay that she's sick, and you can just imagine how very weary this makes Jay. He gives her the option of doing the shoot or having him call a car to take her home. She opts to go home and sleep, proving that her stupidity does not end with her assault on other peoples' beds.
The "plank" that the girls have to walk is a runway floating in a swimming pool. Tension is heightened by the designer himself warning the girls that the dresses are very fragile and would ruin very easily. Say, by being submerged in chlorinated water, perhaps?
But we are disappointed, and the only major falling done is by Caridee's boob, out of her blouse. Eugena slips and falls, too, but remains dry, and the sight of the little bit of blood on her leg isn't nearly as interesting as Caridee's pixilated titty. Someone voiceovers that it's "So Paris," and I pee laughing.
Photos are taken, models are coached on their walking, blah blah yawn. More boobies!
Tyra Mail! Judging.
We then get a glimpse of Monique reading her bible. I don't even recall what the point of this scene was because I'm so offended by her holding a holy book. I'm surprised her fingers aren't smoking. And that her lips aren't moving as she reads.
Has anyone else noticed that the biggest bitches on this show are usually the ones who profess to be the most religious/spiritual? Someone is missing the point. What would Jesus do, Monique? He wouldn't have wiped his crown of thorns on Peter's bedroll, that's for damn sure.
At judging, Tyra is again showing her solidarity with the pirate sistahs by wearing a smokin' grey suede bodice thingy. Hot! I don't know why she doesn't just call me.
The challenge is to walk with a bowl of fruit on your head.
The fruit fell off Brooke's head almost immediately, but she continued walking and smiles, "You make it work!" The judges whip out their spoons and eat her up.
As the judges tell Caridee everything that's wrong with her, she nods in agreement and mutters, "Yeah, I smell what you're steppin' in." The judges exchange bewildered looks, as do Daisy and I.
Monique goes before the judges with her excuse of missing the photo shoot because of illness and is read a lesson from the Book of Danielle, who was on her death bed, but went on to ride an elephant, rock a photo shoot and, ultimately, win the competition. SO THERE!
Deliberations: I don't remember anything except Miss J breaking into some sort of negro spiritual regarding one of the girls, and Tyra joining in, and the rest of them clapping and chanting. I can't even describe it -- it was so surreal.
Monique and Eugena are in the final two, and really, that's a win-win because even if Monique doesn't go home, her only friend does, so she's left alone, and karma wins again.
Husband, who had been watching on the small t.v. in his office, joined me in front of the big t.v. for the judging, saying, "I can't believe you got me hooked on another season." Oh, who are you kidding, honey? You love this shit.
Tyra hands Eugena her photo, and Husband and I literally jump off the couch, hands in the air, yelling, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, thank you, Jesus!" It's a beautiful moment.
Packing up her shit in the apartment, she bitterly interviews that it was all "a waste." And we didn't really expect anything else from her, did we? Well, I do expect some of the girls to find some of the belongings missing when they return to the house...
So, now that Monique is gone, who will rise to take her place as BCWEH? For as you know, Bitches are like Slayers -- when one dies, another must take her place. So sayeth the Lord.
Next week: Melrose tries to keep control in the house, and Anchal cries when she hears the other talking about her. And Wenchie is at the various Wisconsin Pumpkin Festivals until Tuesday.
Posted at 12:42 PM | Comments (2)October 04, 2006
"The Girl Who Hates Her Hair"
Ohhhhhhhhhh, YEAH! Tyra's BACK, bay-bee! And her weave is bigger than ever!
I guess it's about damn time I review the second episode of "America's Next Top Model," considering the third one is on tonight. And I've entirely abandoned the idea of reviewing the first one -- a two-hour extravaganza! -- because I watched it on Billi's TiVo while wrangling The Boy Child & The Girl Child and cleaning her house, so I retain almost nothing, except for the fact that I really think Tyra has outdone herself with this season's Black Chick Who Everyone Hates (BCWEH).
(This just in: Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Frapuccino is the new heroin!)
I really think Ms. Banks could have come up with a better name for this episode. I mean, it was nice to be able to look forward to a dramatic sob-fest, as the makeover episodes always are, but serioulsy. "The Girl Who Hates Her Hair"? She's not even trying. What about "The Girl Who Made Jay Roll His Eyes So Hard He Fainted" or "The Black Chick Who Everyone Hates So Much You Know She'll Be Around For So Long That You'll Start To Secretly Love Her A Little Bit"?
Previously: In the hot tub, a few girls pronounce Melrose's tears "fake." (She was in the final two last week and narrowly avoided being sent home.) Monique is the Black Chick Who Everyone Hates, by a unanimous vote. (She was slow and failed to claim a bed for herself, so she poured water on one of the girls' bed and told her she peed on it so it's hers, forcing the other girl to sleep on a beanbag chair. Then, when the girls were pow-wowing about the take-a-quick-shower rule, Monique was all, "I can't do that. I need a certain amount of time. It's just who I am, and I'm not changing." I predict hair-pulling.)
The girls meet Jay and Miss J. for breakfast. Jay talks about bringing vulnerability to their work, and we're reminded that the Kim-look-alike token androgenous chick was in a plane crash in which her mother died. You know how Tyra loves a good sob story (i.e. last season's Hurricane Katrina victim who didn't know where her family was but decided to audition for a modeling competition in lieu of finding them).
Tyra shows up to usher the girls back to the house living room turned salon (so she could go back and finish the girls' breakfasts Helen-Keller-style).
Melrose is losing the mousey brown to go platinum blonde.
Brooke is going chocolate brown from bleach blonde -- a HUGE improvement and one that makes me want to dye my own hair brunette.
Eugena, who has already assured us that she's prettier than everyone else, is getting extentions ('cuz you know how Tyra loves a mini-me).
Megan, the plane-crash closet-lesbian, is getting a blonde pixie-cut.
Anchal, who has the typical middle-eastern hair-down-to-her-butt, is getting some length cut off, layers put in and... wait for it... hairline threading so she actually has a forehead. Ouch. And HA!
Monique the BCWEH is going honey brown, which proves that the atheists are right because, if there was a God, Monique would have gotten her head shaved.
Megg, the poser "rocker" chick, is getting a weave, too, and more curl for better head-banging and mosh-pitting and roadie-blowing. House Rule #7: If you have to keep telling everyone how Hardcore/Wild/Smart/Humble/Insert Appropriate Adjective Here you are, then YOU AREN'T.
A.J., the I-am-so-different girl (see above), is getting a Linda Evangelista cut. Oh, A.J., real goths don't want to be on the cover of Vogue. Now go cut yourself and write some shitty poetry, and be sure to include the following words: pain, death, suicide, rose, society and blood. You have fifteen minutes, starting.... now!
Michelle is becoming a redhead.
And her twin, Amanda, is becoming... a different shade of redhead. So you can tell them apart, I guess. Because they are individuals. No really!
Caridee... is so bland I don't even remember her. I think she went from blonde to blonder. Which means she's probably the next to go because they didn't invest a lot of time.
Jaeda is going Halle-Berry short, which may force me to recant my whole atheists-are-right stance because, at breakfast, she was bragging that she didn't care what they did with her hair. They could cut it all off, and she'd just work it! Well, who's the sniveling baby they named the episode after now, Eugena? Okay, I know it's a shock to loose a foot of hair, but she looks fantastic. Also? I think it's funny that she has a tranny name and they gave her a boy-cut because this "broad" has a jawbone so large you could scrape whale blubber with it.
(And since switching networks, ANTM has also changed their website, and I'm having trouble linking to individual photos, so you can just click through the before and after shots your damn self. For extra awesomeness, go here and click on Extra Footage: Makeover to see Jaeda burst into tears when Jay sheers her like a sheep.)
[And if I may interject my own two cents here -- and why wouldn't I? It's my blog! -- although I think ALL the makeovers are vast improvements, my step daughters are both prettier than half-to-most of these girls. Between Tyra and Janice, I think the wanna-be models out there are pretty much picked over.]
As a matter of fact, most of the girls are crying over their new looks. And I have to say -- Have they never seen the show? Are they all Amish and were discovered on their annual trip into the big city? Because they should know what they're in for, and they should know that blubbering over it is only going to piss off The Js. And you don't want to piss off The Js because they will sigh and roll their eyes and throw up their hands in disgust, and then you'll be sorry!
Jay read the girls the riot act, saying it's ultimately "insulting to Tyra," and then claims to be over it. Which you know he's not, and he and Miss J went out for apple-tinis after work and picked the girls apart like chickens pecking a bloody spot.
Tyra Mail: Something about "no make-up." Again -- not even trying. When is Tyra going to hire me?
(This review is getting long, and I'm only halfway done. Now would be a good time for a potty break.)
The girls have to choose clothes and make-up that best express them as a "Queen." *sigh* There are so many jokes begging to me made here, but I just don't have the time.
They're at some... place, and on different floors are different departments -- make-up, gowns, shoes. They have five minutes on each floor. If they miss the elevator, they're out.
Poser Megg doesn't even get off the first floor. Monique (BCWEH) gets stuck on the shoes floor. Boo-hoo. Melrose interviews that Monique is going to beat them all up when they get back to the house. Because Monique's failures, like the failures of all BCWEHs, are everyone else's fault.
On the top floor is Queen Latifah! Oh, you guys, I really love her. She's just so awesome. And I can't help but wonder what she really thinks of these stupid bitches, but she's so nice and encouraging to all of them.
Eugene wins the "Queen" competition for her "use of color" and chooses Caridee and Jaeda to share her prize with. The prize is a photo shoot for the Cover Girl website.
Monique, as predicted, is pissed about losing the competition which should have been hers by birthright. Apparently. But instead of beating up the other girls, she takes her anger out on them passive-aggressively, by being on the only house phone for three and a half hours.
Half the time, she's talking to her Mom, who tells her that the other girls better not mess with a "child of God" and that she is a "princess on the throne." Giving us a small glimpse of exactly why Monique is the way she is.
The rest of the time, she is literally on the phone with no one. She's just holding the phone up to her ear so the other girls can't use it. People, if she's this insane on the second episode, I think we can expect great, psychotic happenings from our little sociopath. I'm so excited!
And why was she on the phone with no one? Because Anchal, bless her little heart, went in and hung up on Monique's mom. Oh YES she did!!! But the other girls failed to back up Anchal, so the coup fell flat before accomplishing anything.
At this point in the program, Jerry's Dad came to pick him up, so I missed a few minutes. Yes, I made an eleven year old boy watch ANTM. So what? He's old enough now; he needs to learn to start judging people.
Anyway, it must involve Monique because everyone interviewed that they want her to go home. Can someone please tell me what went on with Monique at this point?
And then it's something about a wig fashion show or wig contest with these over-the-top, butt-fugly wigs that I guess they wear in the hood or something. So they all have a fashion shoot in ridiculous wigs, and the challenge is -- Can they still give good face with so much going on around them?
But they don't have a gallery where you can go through and see all the wig photos. You have to look at every model's portfolio individually. I hate this new website.
At judging, Tyra is dressed like a pirate wench. I shit you not. She's all in blue, with matching blue suede corset and boots. It's very clearly a shout-out to Yours Truly. Hey, Tyra girl! You are fierce! Call me! We'll go to Outback Steakhouse!
Miss J is dressed as sort of a... Nurse Peter Pan. I don't know who that's a shout-out to.
Tyra calls both Jaeda and Eugena on the carpet for their diva-like behavior. Monique is still taking bad photos (because vampires don't show up on film, duh!). Caridee says "Uff da" and immediately becomes my favorite.
Megan and Monique are in the final two, and to the dismay of the planet, it's Megan who goes home. Because we all know how Tyra hates a pig-nose. Except when it's attached to Eva Pigford. Or something.
Megan goes home gracefully and without tears, probably because she won't have to deal with Monique anymore.
Next week: The girls walk a tightrope (please, let there be someone who is afraid of heights!), and Melrose and Monique square off. YAY! Seriously, people, if you're not watching this show, WATCH IT. Or better yet, come over to my house and watch it. Cattiness is always better when shared!
Posted at 01:48 PM | Comments (3)October 03, 2006
The D Man
Just let me be That Person for one day, okay?
I have to think of a name for my latest, adorable, perfect newphew. I can't tell you his real name, but I will tell you that the obvious nickname is Double D. However, Billi won't let me use that one.
I was also thinking of Back-up. I mean, they have one boy and one girl, and now one boy in reserve. In case they have to sell The Boy Child to the gypsies. For his own good.
(It's a well-known fact that, as a child, my father sold me to the gypsies, but the gypsies brought me back.)
Then I was toying with the idea of making the new one The Boy Child, and changing the current Boy Child to The Unholy, or simply Spawn. But that would just get too confusing, I think.
Any good name ideas floating around in your brain cavities?
Some possibly helpful factoids:
* He was 8 lbs. 9 oz. at birth.
* His hair forms a natural mohawk.
* Dude has a sucking instinct that impressed even the longtime nurses who thought they've seen everything.
Yeah, he's a big boy. Size being relative, I'm always terrified of newborn infants. I have purses bigger than he is! On the other hand, I look at this big chunk and think, That came out of my sister! Oh my God! And then I buy her presents.
Posted at 02:29 PM | Comments (5)