April 30, 2007
The History of Swearing and Jerry
When I was still Jerry's fulltime nanny, and he was still a toddler, I would take him on errands with me. His Mom didn't mind, and it was nice for both of us to get outta the house sometimes.
On one such occassion, I was driving to Target (a place Jerry is very familiar with, thanks to me), and some jerk cut me off, causing me to swerve and my stomach to turn itself inside-out.
Also causing me to swear loudly, "Shit!"
Have I mentioned that both of Jerry's parents are pastors? Yeah. Well, guess what he picked up from Nanny? I sheepishly came clean to them, and they were very understand, but still, I was pretty embarassed.
Fast forward several years. Jerry was about eight, and I was preparing dinner. Predictably, because I was within a 100 yard radius of knives and fire, I hurt myself and said, "Crap!"
Jerry very politely said, "Could you please not talk that way around me?"
What I was thinking was Jeez, dude, lighten up. But I knew he was just responding the way he had been taught, so I smiled tightly and went to tend to my wound.
Then there was today.
I picked up Jerry from middle school at 3:00, and on the way home, I had to change lanes. An everyday occurance.
Now, I'm a good driver. Ask my Mom. I have to be because everyone else out there is a retard. Before changing lanes, I looked in my rearview mirror, noted that the car in the other lane was at a reasonable distance, and turned on my turn signal.
But as I merged into the other lane, Honky McHorn was all over my ass, scaring the shit out of me and forcing me back into my original lane. Then he had the nerve to drive up next to me and do the "What the hell were you doing?" pantomine with his hands.
So I rolled down my window and screamed, "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THAT SHIT?! YOU TOTALLY SPED UP WHEN YOU SAW ME SIGNAL! FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE! I HOPE YOU FUCKING CRASH!"
And then I realized that I had just set a very bad example for quiet, little Jerry in the back seat.
Desperately, I tried to recover.
"Oh. My. God. I am so sorry, Jerry. That guy was a total jerk, and he just made me so mad, speeding up like that and blaring his horn."
And Jerry just smiled and said, "That's okay. Sometimes I get mad, too."
God bless you, Fred Rogers, wherever you are.
Posted at 09:42 PM | Comments (0)April 27, 2007
Accessory Whore
As I type this, I am sporting so many cool accessories, I can hardly stand how fabulous I look.
From head to toes:
* Dark blue pillbox hat. With veil.
* False eyelashes worthy of a drag queen.
* Seven strands of pearls, varying lengths.
* White satin opera gloves.
* Every charm bracelet I own.
* Floor-length circle skirt.
* White Keds encrusted with faux pearls and sequins.
No, I'm not going out to mow the lawn. I only wear three strands of pearls for that, duh.
My show opens tonight!
Trust me -- you will see Mary Kate and/or Ashley sporting this look any day now. You watch!
Now, where did I leave my fox stole...?
Later...
Now that I've spent far too much time looking in the mirror, I've realized something. The look I was going for was kind of "Breakfast at Tiffany's," but I'm afraid I ended up more "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?"
Posted at 04:48 PM | Comments (5)April 26, 2007
Reaching Mecca
Almost a year ago, Garrance made the 1000th comment on my blog. That was June 12, 2006, so it has taken him ten months to claim his prize. Which, in Man Time, is near lightning speed.
Technically, he only claimed one-third of his prize because I don't think I ever did a spread of all our Christmas trees, and he never asked a grossly personal question that I was obligated to answer.
The time for Christmas trees is well past -- even in my house -- but Garrance, please feel free to pose a question that you know will make me squirm and reveal horrible truths about myself. Anytime in the next ten months. No rush.
In the meantime, I will tell you a horrible truth about Garrance -- he only pretends to be mute and deaf.
Garrance is a very quiet man. The kind of man you find it easy to believe once killed another man. He's that quiet. There's a famous story of him that goes thusly:
Garrance's son, A, had a friend over whom he had known all through school. This friend, despite spending much time in A's house over the years, had never, ever heard Garrance utter even one syllable. Not so much as a yawn or a grunt. He just kind of silently haunts the world.
A and his friend were going up the stairs to A's room, and since it's an old (and gorgeous!) house, the stairs are very steep. A's friend tripped, and Garrance uttered his only words to her ever -- "Careful, Grace."
Careful Grace is still a joke among all of A's friends, over a decade later. And no, his friend's name is not Grace.
[Wouldn't Careful Grace be a great band name?!]
Anyhoo, when I first knew of Garrance... probably 30 years ago, I was terrified of him. He's tall, he's big, he's veeeerrrrryyyyy hairy, and he's quiet as death. It wasn't until our performing group went on "tour" without his wife that I finally heard him speak. And not only is he not scary, but he's even funny!
The truth is, Garrance is so quiet because his wife and sons never let him get a word in edgewise. And when on the rare occassion they do, he is invariably wrong, wrong, wrong. Perhaps that is why he likes the comfort of my blog so much? Here, he can comment quietly, uninterrupted and somewhat anonymously.
For tipping me into the triple-digits of comments, I treated Garrance to lunch at Mecca Supper Club last week, at his request.
Now how awesome is it that they call it a "supper club!" It's a little piece of Wisconsin here at home! Also a dead giveaway that we were in a Wisconsin embassy -- all the animal corpses adorning the walls. Très chic!
I'd only been to Mecca once before, in high school, when my boyfriend's Dad took us and ordered escargot. Barf! And I remembered it being much seedier. Now it's much more upscale, what with the karaoke night and musky fishermen's club meetings.
Our waitress and all the men at the bar were WWII vets, I'm pretty sure. So we were in good company. And feeling very youthful by comparison.
The menu is very meat-and-a-starch oriented, which is just fine with me. Why muck up a good meal with veggies?
Garrance had the Friday special -- meatloaf in mushroom gravy with mashed potatoes. And I must say, it looked fabulous. But he ruined it with ketchup, being the mullet-wearing white trash that he is.
I had the Italian beef, and it was really, really lean. If it weren't for the fact that the non-smoking section smells exactly like the smoking section, I'd be going back quite often.
Oh, and Garrance and I found plenty to gossip about!
Posted at 12:53 PM | Comments (1)April 23, 2007
"The Girls Who Go Down Under"
I hate it when the episode title is a spoiler.
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Hope said:
"I'm really wondering what's up with Tyra's scarves every week. Did she have a horrific accident involving bangs? Maybe a forhead transplant and it didn't take."I'm still hating Renee, she's a beeotch with a smile. I really hope Jael goes soon because I can't listen to her talk any more, I'm getting dumber every time she opens her mouth."
Why am I the one doing this recap and not her? Enh, I probably have more time on my hands.
Previously on “America’s Next Top Model,” Draglene sucked, and Jael was “the spreader of light.” You know, if she doesn’t become a model, I’m sure she’ll enjoy much success founding her own cult.
Tyramail! And it’s read by Jael in a Russian accent, so I don’t understand a damn thing she’s saying because she doesn’t move her lips when she talks anyway.
The girls have a visitor, and it’s the very forgettable April from Cycle 2 of ANTM, so I don’t even recognize her, even when someone shrieks, “It’s April!” Like she’s anybody. She’s got some crap show on cable access that requires her to stand on a beach and pretend she's not animatronic.
April is having the girls do some interview exercise, and Draglene is all, “I wanna talk good.” Um, Draglene? I believe it’s, “I want to speak well.” But don’t worry about it, Pookie, you’ll do fine. Just smile pretty.
Gary Riotto, who is… I don’t know. April’s neighbor? Her dentist? April interviews him, and he gives examples of what not to do, like babbling or not talking at all. Duh. I love it when they treat the girls just like the retards they really are.
Natasha and Renee interview each other, and it’s very Mrrrrrreowwwwww! Ffft, ffffft!
Not to be outdone, Jael completely interrogates Dionne. Spreader of light, indeed. The blood-red light of mortal combat, maybe!
Next, Jael in naked in the pool. All the other girls have bathing suits on, but Jael chooses to share her dingleberries with all of them. How lovely. I hope the water is well chlorinated.
Renee interviews about how she and Jael weren’t friends, but now they are, and then, in true Renee style, she closes with, “But I still don’t think she has what it takes to be a model.” Like if she says it enough, it’ll come true. Clearly, Jesus was only visiting Renee’s heart and hasn’t come to stay.
Enter Tyra in a kangaroo costume. Because the girls are going to Sydney. Australia. Get it? Because kangaroos run rampant in the streets of Sydney! G’day! Throw a shrimp on the barbie! Krickey!
Tyra also announces that the winner of the interview challenge gets to be a correspondent on “The Tyra Show.” More than once! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! But they’re not gonna find out who the winner is until Judging.
Some Aussie “supermodel” shows up and intersperses two sentences with some very simple Aussie slang, leaving the girls cross-eyed and slack-jawed in confusion. It’s so sad. And it leaves no hope that any of them will be able to learn any Aussie slang, with which they will be accosting, er… I mean interviewing people on the street.
Britney interviews that memorizing is not her strong suit because she was hit by a car, got eight staples in her head, and as a result, has very poor short term memory. Bummer.
The girls annoy passersby with inane questions about “Aussie style vs. Yank style,” and must work in as much Aussie slang as possible. Dionne says, “That’s cool, that’s cool!” about 40 times. Except it sounds more like, “Daskoo, daskoo!” And I’m sure the Australians think she’s a bit challenged.
Draglene gets some guy to show us his undies, probably because she’s the first “woman” ever to ask.
Back at the house, Jael points out that she’s been in the Bottom Two twice, while Britney never has. At least, not that she can remember.
Tyramail! Something about “put up your dukes,” and the girls are all, “We’re going to be with kangaroos!” And Renee is all, “Whaaaaaaaa--?” Apparently, she’s never watched a cartoon ever in her life.
On location, Jay Manuel tell the girls they will be filming a Cover Girl commercial with an Aussie accent. The script involves a photographer who is trying to take photos of a kangaroo but is distracted by their beauty. Oh, this should be good. And by “good,” I mean that it’s time to go take a pee and maybe let the dogs out.
Renee gets her lines right and has the accent, but I swear, she looks 50 years old.
Dionne goes all ghetto and totally sucks. Plus, the make-up person did some weird shading on her nose, so now she looks like an embassador to the Enterprise.
Jael has good energy but just can’t talk worth a damn. And when they tell her she has “good energy,” it’s like they’re telling a fat girl she has a great personality or a pretty face. Good energy is the terrible model’s consolation prize.
Jay thinks Draglene looks like Janice Dickenson.
JANICE!!!
And now I’m obligated to send Jay some hate mail for that comparison. NO ONE is Janice, and especially not Cha-Cha from “Grease.”
Britney can’t give a read at all. She can’t even remember what’s on the cue card half a second after looking at it. Poor thing. I really feel bad for her. That’s gotta be so frustrating. Jay says she’s “overcome by her baggage.” Ah, back to the same sympathetic Jay. Thank God. It’s so unnerving when he’s genuinely kind.
Nat’s hair looks retarded pulled into a side ponytail. And it’s clearly hard putting the Aussie accent on top of the Russian accent, but she totally nails it.
Judging! Thank God Tyra’s got her long, straight wig on. Those head scarves were scaring me – I thought she had cancer or something. (Don’t worry – God will strike me down with leukemia for making a joke of cancer. Save your hateful emails.)
Natasha gets much kudos on her accent and inflections. And she’s so articulate! If she was black, Al Sharpton would be using Nigel’s scalp as a coaster for his Harvey Wallbanger right now.
Dionne's accent sounds Jamaican.
Draglene frowns when she thinks. Because it hurts. Thinking is hard! Let’s go shopping! Oooh, look – something shiny!
The good news is, Renee totally channeled Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. The bad news is, she channeled him all the way to his testosterone and came off very mannish.
Jael: all anarchy, no femininity.
Britney told the judges her head-staples story, and while they were compassionate, they reminded her that the modeling business isn’t. The shots where she’s not talking are seriously gorgeous. If it wasn’t for the head trauma, I’d totally bet on her for the winner. On the other hand, even with no memory, she’s still brighter than the rest of them. Oy, that Dionne.
Deliberations!
The judges disagree on whether Jael is energetic or boring.
Britney can’t take the criticism about her memory. Nice.
Natasha blew the panel away, what with overcoming her thick Russian accent to beat the pants off the other girls.
Draglene is too, well… drag.
Dionne needs more personality. And brain cells.
Renee is generally well-liked.
The girls come back in, and Nat is called first because she is the challenge winner! She’s going to be a correspondent on Tyra’s show! Don’t tell ME America isn’t the Land of Opportunities!
Renee, Draglene and Dionne are called. Leaving Jael and Brit in the Bottom Two. Britney has no memory for commercials. Jael looks like ass on film. Who will go home? Or rather, who will move to another wing of the hotel?
Tyra hands Britney her photo, and Husband literally jumps off the couch and yells, “YES! There IS a God!” Then he went and fixed himself a Cosmo before tweezing his eyebrows.
Jael thanks Tyra and gives much love to the girls, telling them, “It’s okay.” She wears a red tu-tu and blue wig to pack.
Hmm... it would seem that Renee did make it come true just by saying it...
Creepy.
And again, there are no previews for next week. Dammit! I hope that doesn't mean the next episode is as dull as this one.
Posted at 06:11 PM | Comments (1)April 18, 2007
Wanna See Somethin' Gross?
Actually this one isn't that gross... until you hear how I did it. Got it washing out the inside of a soup can before throwing it in the recycle bin. Yup, just rotated that "safety" inner edge across my hand.
You just cringed and inhaled sharply through your teeth, didn't you?
And I couldn't even swear properly because Boy Child and Girl Child were present, so I'm like, "God--! Sonuva--! Mother--!" Highly unsatisfying.
Luckily! I had onhand the pirate bandaids that Marty gave me! Actually, once my hand stopped throbbing -- three days later -- I was tickled to have an excuse to use them!
I was especially delighted to find the "treasure" contained within each box:
Yup, that's a pirate duckie. Two concepts I wouldn't have necessarily put together myself, but it's... cute. In a disturbing sort of manner.
Anyhoo, THIS is The Grossness you were warned about in the title.
No, that's not plum toenail polish. That's my toe. Just in time for sandal season.
I had borrowed a bunch of folding chairs from Spikette for Husband's 50th birthday party. So of course, they rattled around in the back of my Explorer for two weeks before I drove the grueling four minutes to Spikette's house to return them.
And one would think, after listening to them shifting around for all that time, it might occur to me that the chairs were no longer stacked neatly, as they had been when I loaded them in.
But no.
Shifting contents were the furthest thing from my mind when I opened the back and half a dozen metal chairs slid out and onto my foot.
Yeah. I caught the full brunt of a speeding folding chair square on my big toe. And again, Nephew was present, so I could utter no blue streak, despite the tears in my eyes and the ringing in my ears.
I didn't look at my toe until the next morning. I didn't want to see it. Actually, I didn't want to see it even then, but I was at Dr. Hottie's for an ankle check-up, and I had to warn him not to touch my toe, upon penalty of agonizing death.
So he did. "Does this hurt?" I hhhhhhhhhhhhate him.
He said he was checking to make sure it wasn't broken, even though everyone in the world knows there's not a damn thing that can be done for a broken toe. But he moved it around, with all the glee of a ten-year old boy poking roadkill with a stick.
Then he looked at it closely and said, "Oh, I bet your nail is gonna fall off!"
Bastard.
I mean, looking at it, he's probably right. But he doesn't have to sound so damn excited about it! Boys are weird. He'll probably keep me coming in for ankle check-ups all summer, just so he can watch the progress of my molting toe.
No cute open-toe summer shoes for me this year. My mama raised me right, and you just don't inflict this kind of thing upon your fellow man.
Posted at 08:19 AM | Comments (5)April 16, 2007
Wenchie Bueller's Day Off
Locals call it "The Bean." Other nicknames include "Huge Waste of Money" and "What the Hell Were They Thinking?"
Locals calls it "The Crashed U.F.O.," "The Exploded Beer Can" or simply "The Eyesore."
This is where I like to plant my soapbox when I stand on it. Makes me feel like I'm speaking in the Forum in Rome.
There's a gorgeous stained glass exhibit at Navy Pier.
Unfortunately, the ferris wheel wasn't working at the time. Or fortunately. I don't know. I seem to have developed a fear of heights since 9-11. Or more specifically, a fear of plummeting to my death.
And on that note...
The EndPosted at 02:39 PM | Comments (2)
April 13, 2007
"The Girl Who Impresses Pedro"
A dream come true! An ANTM/Napoleon Dynamite crossover! Think of the slash fiction!
Actually, when I wrote that, I had just read the title of the episode and not actually seen the episode. Imagine my surprise when it really WAS Pedro from "Napoleon Dynamite!" All my snarkiness for naught.
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Wenchie has a stroke, and Renee has a Come-to-Jesus moment.
Some of the girls agree that they've seen a big change in Renee since speaking directly with Jesus... through Tyra. But other girls don't trust her and think it's an act. We see Renee's apology, "I'm sorry for what I might have said..."
Wait. Might? That's not an apology. That's a non-apology. That's a politician's apology.
Renee writes an apology letter to Jael, who accepts the apology but is still wary.
Christian Marc shows up at the house to take off Brit's weave. Whitney interviews all, "Girlfriend, puh-leeze!" Cuz she's had a weave since the womb, and it doesn't hurt, and eye-rolling and head-bobbing. Whatever. Brit's weave looked like shit and was tearing her hair out, so shut-up Whit.
Tyramail! "Whatever you do, don't be yourself." Whit is excited that they'll be acting.
Hey! Natasha's baby has a name! And huge, blue eyes! Angelina!
What the fuck. Dionne named her baby Ta'kya. I don't even know how to pronounce that. Why the apostrophe? Is there a letter missing? Does one pause in the middle of the name? Now, Reverend Jackson, don't be all up in my grill because you know that apostrophes don't belong in nobody's name, okay?
I'm Wenchie from the 'hood, apparently.
The girls go to some theatre and meet Tia Mawry, who's in two shows that I've never seen, so I'm not quite as excited as Jaslene. Tia has the girls choose a hat and assume the personality of the hat.
Renee wears a bonnet and pretends to cry. Jaslene says "bitches" and then something even worse cuz it's bleeped out.
They have two hours in which to memorize a script, which they must then perform in three ways: melodramatic, diva and perky. Oh, and they must perform it with Pedro.
Dionne slips into some Jamaican accent, which is odd because she "don't speak Jamaican!"
Renee fakes sobbing. Christ, was a basket case this chick is. Jaslene forgets her lines.
Well, the only one who "fully connected" is Renee, who, as winner, gets to pick a friend. To Dionne's shock and awe, Renee picks her. Renee says it's because she "wouldn't give [her] a second chance." Kill 'em with kindness, Renee! Brilliant plan.
Oh my God. The girls get "I Voted For" t-shirts with each other's name on them. They try to act all happy, but you can tell they're thinking of Whitney's diamond bracelet and seething with envy.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Whitney isn't buying all of Renee's smiling. I don't blame her. But Jael says it's good to see her smiling. Oh, Jael will be the first to die.
But the REAL prize is that Renee and Dionne get a visit from their families! Renee's husband and son show up, and Dionne's mom, sister and daughter show up. Um, where's the baby daddy, Dionne?
The first thing Dionne says is, and I quote, "What the fuck is wrong with my baby's hair?!" HA!
Dionne's mom got shot by an old boyfriend and is now paralyzed and in a wheelchair. Damn.
Natalie sees her competitors with their babies and starts seriously freaking out. She misses her baby and sobs on the phone to her husband, and I totally feel for her. That's gotta be hard to watch.
Tyramail! Something something "spooked by a ghost from the past." As opposed to all those future ghosts floating around. The girls will be recreating past characters and ridiculous moments from past ANTM cycles. While sporting Payless shoes. Wow. They're really scraping the bottom of the barrell for concepts, aren't they?
Nat starts taking the whole baby thing personally. "I guess someone decided that I don't miss my baby enough." Okay, settle down there, cowgirl. No one decided anything. No one thinks you don't miss your baby. It was just a crappy crapshoot.
Jaslene gets to be Bre of Stolen Granola Bars fame. Jay says she's too drag-queenish. He's just noticing this? Jesus, I've been calling her Jasqueen in my head for weeks.
Nat's having a hard time getting over her sadness and doesn't want to do the shoot. Jay gives her a pep talk which is actually kind of nice, for him, but reminds her that "it doesn't get any easier."
Nat gets to be Michelle of Flesh Eating Bacteria fame. She sucks it up and shoots it like a pro. Atta girl!
Whitney is Shannon of Bible-Thumping Won't Pose Naked fame. Cuz, you know, she looks so much like a skinny, white girl.
Jael is Rebecca of Fainting During Panel fame. I think she laughs a little watching the replay. But Jay says she's too sexy and that she and Rebecca look like lovers. Jael's gay, right? I mean... right? Is anyone else getting that vibe?
Britney is Amanda and Michelle's "sistah from anothah mistah." Eek. It's clear which one of the "triplets" got the looks.
Renee is Joanie of Massive Dental Surgery fame. ACK! I didn't need to see that again. Joanie pretty much steals the show. Renee repeats what she was told at panel about being "less pretty." And Jay agrees, "Those shots are not pretty." Hee!
Dionne is Kim of Hott Lesbo Action in the Limo fame, but she's freaked. She doesn't want to kiss a girl. "I don't even kiss my own damn boyfriend!" Then where'd she get that baby?
But once in the limo, Dionna loosens up and feels comfortable, enjoys it even! Another belt notch for our favorite little transgender pixie!
Tyramail! Judging. Whitney, Jael and Jaslene are all afraid they're the one going home. And one of them is right!
Tyra, Jesus, what the hell are you wearing?! The hippie headscarf, the ultra-miniskirt? *shudder* Where are the boobilicious pirate outfits from last season?
Okay. Whitney's personality doesn't translate to film. Britney, on the other hand, jumps off the page, even when photographed with the twins, Michelle and Amanda, whom the panel still gush over.
Jaslene is weaking, as she feared. Nat, on the other hand, is stepping it up and takes direction very well.
Dionne was the photographer's favorite. But Jael looked "posey and not fainty." Direct quote. And her speech leaves the panel speechless. Seriously, she finishes talking, and they're like, "... Ho-kaaaaaaaaaaaay."
Renee looks too ugly and too old. I mean, they might have said some other stuff, but that's what I'm focusing on because we still hate Renee, right? Or are we buying her miraculous transformation? I'm still hating. It's more fun.
Deliberations. Called for their photos are Dionne, Natasha, Britney, Renee and Jaslene. Oh crap.
Jael and Whitney are in the Bottom Two, and Jael gets her photo.
Whitney leaves with a beautific smile and kind wishes for the others. I can't wait until Renee leaves, just to hear her venomous parting speech.
Next week: The girls interview each other and then get deported. Hey, is Nat allowed to cross international borders?
Posted at 07:49 AM | Comments (2)April 11, 2007
"The Girl Who Gets Thrown In the Pool" - Part II
Well, I couldn't find my notes. I don't know, I must've accidently thrown them out or something. I'm so sorry. I let you down. Well, obviously not you, Uncle Twitchy.
I don't really remember a damn thing, except Tyra's faux-Oprah session where the girls are asked some asinine question and expected to "open up," i.e. cry. And all the girls ganged up on Renee, which totally set a precident.
In past shows, The Bitch That Everyone Hates usually has one or two girls who are willing to put up with her. But not Renee, man! She is universally hated by every last girl in the house! HA!
So Tyra has Renee come sit by her and take her poison and then feebly attempt to defend herself. And her defense is one that I heard many time during my dating career: "I've been hurt so many times."
I've heard men use this as a reason they can't:
a) Be more than friends.
b) Stop having sex with other girls.
c) Return a phone call.
d) Be anything but a total douche.
e) Any combination of the above.
And it's lame. It was lame then, and it's lame now.
Know why?
EVERYONE HAS BEEN HURT.
If you have stepped out of your cave and seen another living creature in the distance, you've been hurt. Being hurt is not some rare phenomenon that separates one into a small sub-category of people. It's a Universal Human Experience.
Now, if you have a special brand of hurt brought about by, say, witnessing your entire family explode in a freak 4th of July accident, yeah, okay, you get a pass if you're a bit stand-offish.
But trying to use "being hurt" as an excuse to attack every single person you come in contact with, without provocation? No. Sorry. Wenchie has ruled, and that's not a reason. It's not an excuse. It's not a logical cause and effect.
My first husband was a raging drunk who spent us into foreclosure and whom I eventually had to go bail out of county jail. But you don't see me...
Okay, wait. Yes, I am making Husband's life a living hell, but that's not a direct correllation of the Ex. It's just who I am. Part of my charm, if you will.
Anyhoo, I have a different theory. I think Renee got it backwards. I don't think she's a bitch because everyone but her husband and son hurt her...
I think everyone but her husband and son hurt her because she's a bitch.
Her family is probably sick of her shit and has refused to even deal with her anymore, and instead of taking responsibility for the relationships, she has deemed it "their fault" and assumed the role of victim.
My point is this: If you are in a house of 13 people who are your gender, your age, and at least half of which are your race, and can't find one person who will talk to you? Then you are a bitch. Kill yourself.
Okay, I'm off my soapbox.
I don't even remember who got eliminated, I was so distracted by my own self-righteousness. Oh, well -- I'll find out tonight!
Posted at 05:56 PM | Comments (1)April 09, 2007
Moose In Control
This year, The Boy Child and The Girl Child expressed their faith in Our Risen Lord by re-enacting, for our viewing enjoyment, an excerpt from the movie "Grease."
Yes, they are six and four -- we're well aware of the inappropriateness of the material contained in "Grease." So we fast forward everything but the music. And they don't get to watch "Blue Moon."
[Interesting "Grease" Tidbit #1: Back in 1978, when "Grease" was in theatres, my Norwegian immigrant grandmother had a cousin visiting her from Norway. My Gramma was in her 70s and spoke English... amusingly. Her cousin was in his 50s and spoke no English whatsoever. They went to see "Grease" because they thought it was a documentary. About the country. Needless to say, they were surprised by the movie, but they stayed for the whole thing and actually enjoyed it. But not more than I enjoy that mental picture.]
Now, when Boy Child came out with his jacket on, started singing "You're the One that I Want" and whipped it off while singing, "I got mooooooose... in contro-hol!" I thought that was my favorite part.
But I was wrong.
[Interesting "Grease" Tidbit #2: The group called Johnny Casino and the Gamblers in the movie is actually a 50's cover band called Sha-Na-Na. Whom I saw in concert back in grade school. And dudes? They fucking ROCKED! So did Liberace.]
No, my favorite part was when he switched octaves and sang Sandy's part, "Meditaaaay... on my erection! Feeeeeel your way!"
That's what happens when you're four and have to learn the lyrics phoenetically. There wasn't a dry pair of pants in the house.
I'm not even going to talk about "Greased Lightning." We'll all be arrested.
Posted at 04:33 PM | Comments (4)April 07, 2007
"The Girl Who Gets Thrown In the Pool" - Part I
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Lolly is arranging a cage match, Elle loves me for no apparent reason, and Hope delivers the verbal smackdown on Renee for her incessant sniveling. Oh, and some stuff with Natasha and Renee blah-blah blee-blah blow.
Tyramail! Would a rose by any other name still smell as sweet?
Well, Renee still smells like a bitch, and there she is bitching about Jael talking and Sarah taking credit and Whitney not killing herself for being a size eight. Oh, and Renee? Being mad at Sarah for taking credit is sooooooooo last week, honey. Get a new gripe.
It turns out that Twiggy's real name is Leslee Hornsby, and I'm sorry, but she does kind of look like a Lesless Hornsby, so it's not The Great Reveal that I'm sure Tyra was hoping for.
Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it's Melrose. What the fuck is SHE doing here? Hopefully, she'll give Renee some bitch lessons so we're less bored. Melrose is apparently amazing because she ditched the white trash moniker of "Melissa Rose" and went with Melrose. Clearly, it's been her ticket to fame and fortune.
The girls must come up with a new name for themselves. Because, you know, if it's good enough for "Dani" -elle...
Whitney Michelle creates "Whitelle." Renee picks Nayiam for no apparent reason. Jaslene and Jael both keep their names, and I think that's totally cool. I would keep mine, too. My name is uncommon, but really pretty. I've always liked it. Thanks, Mom!
Sarah picks Moe. ...'Kay.
Dionne picks Wholahay, or some such silliness. Britney reacts by staying as close to her name as possible -- Brit -- lest she gets any of Dionne's crazy on her.
The girls are going to go to a party and introduce themselves with their new names. How is that a challenge? I do that all the time. I'm usually Octavia.
Oh, they also have to be eloquent and humorous without monopolizing the conversation. Ah, there's the challenge! Don't be dumbshits, ladies!
On their way back to the house, Renee breaks all three rules by announcing to the rest of the girls, "I can't wait to have some stimulating conversation."
Nice. Remember this later when Renee is trying to defend her behavior. Jael calls her on the implied insult.
Tyramail! Something about funky, cold medina, and while I love that song, I don't see what it has to do with the party as Tone Loc is not there.
But Benny Medina is. Oh, I get it. Hmm. I still think Tone Loc would have been cooler than Tyra's manager. One by one, Benny calls the girls into a room where he's holding court so he can put them on the spot and pass judgement on them. He's really a dick.
* * * * *
And that, my friends, is where this ends because I can't find my notes. See, I take handwritten notes during the show and convert them into witty banter afterwards. I brought them to Billi's on Thursday cuz I stupidly thought I'd be able to finish my recap there, and now I can't find my notes!
Well, if they remain lost, I can always watch the rerun on Sunday night. Oh, that's Easter, isn't it? I hope Billi doesn't mind.
I pray my notes are still in The Girl Child's room. I also thank Our Risen Savior that she can't read cursive, yet!
Posted at 05:56 PM | Comments (3)April 02, 2007
"The Girl Who Takes Credit"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Natasha sucks and Renee has a temper. Felicia's lifeless corpse got her sent home.
Opening credits, and I must contend that I prefer Brit with short hair.
It's a full moon on ANTM. That doesn't bode well.
Natasha is on the phone with her husband and baby. Now, I realize that she was a mail order bride at 18, but as far as that goes, I've heard a lot less healthy phone conversations between ANTM hopefuls and their significant others. At no point in the conversation does she say "moose and squirrel."
The rest of the girls are talking about Nat while she's on the phone, calling the whole thing "creepy" and "gross." And while they do have a valid point, I think Renee is just using the situation to deflect some of the hate from herself.
[And let me just say here that, while I, too, find Natasha's situation creepy and gross, I think those girls should be thanking their lucky stars that they don't live in a situation so hopeless and bleak that they have to sell themselves and leave everyone they love behind in order to have a chance at a decent life. There but for the grace of God go YOU, Renee, you ignorant pleb.]
Whitney really likes Diana and is glad she's there. Diana wants to loose 10 lbs. She says it's hard living in a "distorted reality" where all the other girls are 5'10" and 125 lbs. Yeah, that would beat the shit out of my self confidence, too.
Tyramail! "Looking your worst could be the best thing that's ever happened to you!" Well, I suppose it made sense to Tyra.
Cathy Gould, head muckity-muck from Elite models is meeting with the girls, along with... some model. Tall, thin, pretty -- you know the one I'm talking about.
So, the girls put on these outfits that are picked out for them and then asked to give their opinion of them. The girls all find something good to say about what their wearing, and then -- SURPRISE! They were given example of what not to wear!
Natasha interrupts that the girls all said good things because, as models, you are supposed to say that you like anything a designer gives you to wear. And she is totally right, and I was just thinking the same thing. But the girls rag on her for it anyway. Even tho' she was defending them, too. Bitches. I just hate them all this week.
Then the girls are directed to switch their clothes with other girls and stuff and -- voila! Good outfits. Whatever.
And out of nowhere, Renee is demanding of Whitney whether she really thinks there will ever be a plus-sized model on the cover of "Vogue." (By the way, Whitney is a size 8, which means I would LOVE to be plus-sized. Bitches.) Whitney is bored with Renee trying to bait her and tries to brush her off, but Renee is all, "Waitin' to see it. Waitin' to see it."
Diane finally chimes in that Renee is a bitch, even tho' they've been BFFs prior. Welcome to the Club of Everyone Else, Diane! Duh!
Oh my God. The girls are taken to a Sears warehouse. Because there was no Walmart in the area, apparently. Jesus, next they'll have Issac Mizrahi designing for the girls. Greg and Larry are two male mannequins, and I'm already bored. I think I'll make popcorn.
The girls are split into trios: Dionne is not happy about being with Sarah and Renee; Jael, Natasha and Whitney are a team; leaving Diane and... oh I forget. And chances are, you have, too.
They have 20 min. to pick out coordinating outfits and design a display with themselves as the mannequins. Garrance, were you watching? And dry-heaving? I'm thinking Thursday Supper New Year's Eve 2007!
Jael, Natasha and Whitney would have won, cuz they are the least tacky, but Whitney wasn't on the podium, so they were disqualified. Needlessly, I might add, as Natasha had told Whit to get her butt on the platform. When will people start listening to Natasha???
Dionne and group won the challenge, and Sarah won the individual challenge. And as she's totally taking credit for it, we find out that Dionne picked out her outfit, and Renee picked out her accessories. Damn.
The prize is that she'll get to do the next photo shoot twice, i.e. do the shoot, look at her pictures to see what worked and what didn't, and then reshoot. Dionne and Renee are PISSED.
Back to bitching about Natasha. Renee notes that, even tho' she's been married for three or four years, Natasha has no ring, which is "suspect." Jeez, for someone as broke as Renee, you'd think she'd be more understanding about not being able to afford a diamond.
CariDee! Awwwwwww, she looks so pretty.
Tyramail! "Dude, where's my lipstick?" Is Tyra ever not drunk?
The girls have to style themselves for a photo shoot, and predictably, they are a mess. Enter the drag queens! YAY! God, that's a great book title, isn't it? "Enter the Drag Queens." The girls are to dress as guys and pose with the guys dressed are girls.
"Jaslene commanded the set," says Jay. Jaslene is all Victor Victoria. A man pretending to be a woman pretending to be a man.
Brit is totally Brokeback as a lumberjack. And I miss Brokeback Mountain. I haven't been able to use that as a reference in forever. Feels good, like being home again.
Renee is a glam rock star. Yawn.
Jael is a bohemian hippie, so type-casted. For the shoot, she felt she was "opening myself inside out." Translated by Jay -- "coo-coo-crazy co-co puffs."
Dionne totally looks like Chris Rock.
Sarah is a rocker.
Meanwhile, Diane is back to being Renee's friend because Renee serves up good dish -- she tells Diane that she and Dionne picked Sarah's winning outfit.
Meanwhile, Whitney is "guarded and awkward" as a frat boy.
Natasha is a hip-hop guy, and seriously, she's incredible. She looks like a Backstreet Boy, it's hilarious.
Diana is in a tux.
Renee interviews that she thinks the plus-sized girls feel pressure from the skinny girls. What a bitch. I'd rather be fat than universally hated.
Jay asks Diane why she wants to be ANTM, and she's all, "Just cuz." And even Whitney's heartfelt pep-talk can't erase the world's stupidest reason.
Tyramail! Judging. And Tyra is wearing some sort of Mormon jumper. Cathy Gould is a guest judge.
Dionne comes to judging as a new person, no more mall rat, and puts out a great photo.
Jaslene is a good-looking guy.
Whitney was the worst of the day.
Jael couldn't break out of her femininity, which stupifies everyone there, I'm sure.
Sarah's extra frames definately helped to keep her in the running. Behind her, Dionne and Renee seethe.
Renee had a clenched jaw, but I can't figure out of that was good or bad.
Diane's face was dead. She rests on being merely pretty.
Brit looks hot. I'd totally do her as a man.
The panel eats Natasha with a fork over noodles. They love the way she can boast about herself and still come across as charming. Hey, that's what people love about me, too!
Deliberations.
Dammit. The two size 8s are in the Bottom Two. Neither is very photogenic. Well, I can't really argue with that. Dionne stays and tells Diane, "I love you." It's actually very sweet.
The girls all hug and cry, except for Renee, off in the corner. Hi-ho the derry-o, the cheese stands alone.
Diane says she's glad Whitney is staying, and to the girl that wins -- congratulations. Awwwwww, just this once, I can say classy and actually mean it.
Next week, the girls party with Fifty Cent, Paris and Nichole. I'll bet next week's episode is called, "The Girl Who Gets the Clap." And Jael puts Renee in her place. YAY! Y'all, you know you've fucked up when you get bitch-slapped by a hippie!
[P.S. to lolly: I'd never abandon ANTM re-caps, and I totally have a life. Not having a t.v. is fine, as long as you don't hock your jewelry to get one. Renee is possibly the most boring bitch ever. And isn't it weird that Natasha didn't call her baby by name? Does it not have a name?]
Posted at 05:41 PM | Comments (3)April 01, 2007
I Can't Escape It
Chit-chatting with Billi on the phone this evening.
Billi: Yeah, we just stayed home and -- Oh my GOD!
PW: What?!
B: The Boy Child just tooted! Boy Child, was that you?
PW: Holy crap, that was him?
B: Did you hear that?
PW: Dude, Marlee Matlin heard that!
B: Oh, my God, it reeks! Boy Child, do you have to poop? It smells like you have to poop. Go poop! Now!
PW: Like father, like son.
B: Well, go sit on the potty and try.
PW: So. You were saying?
B: What were we talking about? That toot erased my memory.
PW: I think, what you guys did this weekend.
B: Oh, yeah. Actually, we didn't do much. Brad went to... Did you flush? Do you need me to wipe you?
PW: What?
B: Boy Child.
PW: Oh. Did he poop?
B: He sure did!
PW: Excellent.
Never did find out what she did this weekend, but there was probably tooting involved. And poop.
Posted at 09:38 PM | Comments (1)