November 30, 2007
All In All It's Just Another Brick-Colored Wall
Through the magic of the photograph, I bring you Before and After images of my kitchen wall!
Why just one wall? you ask? Because the rest of the kitchen really isn't worth looking at. One wall is all stove and fridge and microwave; one is all sink and cabinets and counters; and one is just doors to the dining room, living room and hallway to the bedrooms.
Seriously, our kitchen is retarded. We have a huge Sub-Zero fridge, two ovens and a stove with industrial grade burners -- all here when we moved in. So clearly, the previous owners were serious cooks. BUT. We have about four and a half inches of counter space. The square footage of the kitchen is really big... but there's no damn counter space. I hate our kitchen.
Adding to my hatred, for quite some time, was this:
Note the outdated wallpaper and ginormous dog kennell. What you can't see is the place behind the table where the dogs ate away the wallpaper... and some of the wall. Although, if you look closely, you can see where they did the same thing by the back door.
And what the hell is with that little half-wall? Seriously! Why put up a half wall if you're not going to put in a COUNTER TOP?!?!
Thanks to the magic of unemployment, Husband transformed our once-drab wall into this!
Yes, that's red gingham wallpaper. Husband almost went blind putting it up. I love it so much, I can't even tell you.
Of course, we don't have chairs, yet. Stella has started gnawing the woodwork around her favorite window at the front of the house, so we're certainly not going to invest money into chairs just yet.
Hmmm, I wonder if I could swap Stella for the chairs? On Craiglist, perhaps?
Dog owner seeks to swap black lab for 4 kitchen chairs. Dog has all shots. No weirdos.Posted at 01:37 PM | Comments (0)
November 29, 2007
"The Girls Go On Go-See Adventures "
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Wenchie came terrifyingly close to losing her favorite, Heather, while Tyra and Husband fought a cage match over their shared favorite, Chantal.
Here's my predictions for this show. I want Heather to win, but I think it'll be Chantal, and I think Saleisha is going home this episode.
Bianca asks Heather what she was thinking when she was in the Bottom Two because she wants to keep savoring the moment from every angle possible. Chantal interviews that Heather should have gone home instead of Lisa.
Jenah's all pissy because she thinks that the competition has come down to a personality contest, and she, not having one, is at a disadvantage.
Tyra Mail! Go-sees.
The girls start at PT Models Shanghai with Susan Yung. PT is my shorthand for paper towels on my shopping lists.
Heather is worried because she knows that she doesn't make good first impressions. Jesus, does Jenah ever brush her hair?
The girls get a translator, a chauffered car and six hours to see five designers.
The first designer thinks that Sal is "so dull." Ha!
Chantal livens things up by wearing hot pink panties -- a definite modeling no-no. The designer would book her for print but not for the catwalk.
Heather wins this episode's quotable quote: "The map's in Chinese. It's all Greek to me." Two hours later, she still can't find her first go-see. When she finally gets there, she hears that she needs to work on her walk and her eye contact.
Jenah is flippant about a designer not liking her. She's all, "Oh, well, there's always the next one."
Then, it's party time. Sal is sitting outside one designer's studio as Bianca finishes up inside. Bi then asks Sal where the next designer is, and although Sal knows that it's right upstairs, she tells Bi that she doesn't know! HAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! That's called KARMA, bitch! SUCK ON IT!
Bianca interviews, "You bitch." And really, where does she get off? If their places were reversed, Bianca would have done the same damn thing.
Chantal sees Sal totally kissing ass and interviews about it rudely, and then turns around and does the same thing. Hypocrite.
Heather can't find her second go-see, so not wanting to be late, she decides to go back to the agency, but she can't find her driver. Shanghai traffic is, apparently, even more insane than New York or Chicago. But Sal makes it back with fifteen minutes to spare, and Bianca sneaks in under the wire.
Jenah is fifteen minutes late, Chantal is twenty, and Heather is forty. They are disqualified from the challenge. Susan Yang later meets the girls at a beautiful, harbor-side restaurant to announce the winner. To my surprise -- and chagrin -- it's Bianca, whose face floats by on a huge billboard barge ad for the 2008 Olympics.
Tyra Mail! But I didn't hear it because Dick and I were talking about Great Danes. Don't ask.
The girls arrive in some Chinese garden with beautiful bridges and lots of noisy bugs. Nigel is the photographer. The challenge is to stand-out amoung all the lions and dragons and crap around them.
Jenah immediately pisses off Nigel with an annoying immitation of him, to his face. Jeez, someone is always pissing off Nigel, aren't they? Maybe he's just too sensitive.
Jenah doesn't have her "usual energy" for the shoot and is upset not to receive any good feedback afterwards. In sharp contrast is Sal, who Jay has never seen this confident.
Bianca is looking mean, surprise surprise. Chantal looks too "showgirl," but she takes the critique seriously and does much better.
Heather decides that she's not going to overthink the shoot. Jay complains that she's second guessing herself. During her shoot, Nigel has to yell at the "peanut gallery" to quiet down, which probably wasn't helping Heather much.
Tyra Mail! Panel. Jenah is worried; Bianca is not. Susan Yang guest stars at panel, where Tyra informs the girls that only four of them will be going to Bejing.
Chantal was 20 minutes late for the challenge and was wearing taboo pink panties instead of beige. Faux pas! But Nigel says she was fun to shoot, and her picture is "kick-ass."
Bianca is the winner of the go-see challenge, and two of the three designers she saw booked her for work. In her photo, her body is great, but her face is asleep. Nigel says her movements aren't fluid, and she needs to relax.
Jenah was 15 minutes late for the challenge. The designers said she has a good walk but needs to be more personable and less messy in person. Her photo is great, but her sense of humor comes off as arrogant, which is off-putting. Why is this the first time we're hearing of this? She must be going home this week.
Sal has a good personality and is Nigel's favorite. The judges see a commercial girl who is finally looking high fashion.
Heather was 40 minutes late for the challenge, at which the judges all gasp in horror. Miss J says she needs a Top Model Ass-Whupping to get her walk in shape. Her photos are consistantly brilliant and sexy, but she's stiff in person.
Deliberations!
Bianca has to work too hard for a good pose. Heather looks great but can't communicate. Sal has great energy. Chantal needs more confidense. Jenah is good, but they're afraid of her personality, which is weird because Bianca is a much bigger bitch.
The girls are called back into the room, and Tyra calls Sal, Bianca and Chantal. Jenah and Heather are the Bottom Two. They approach Tyra holding hands, which is sweet.
Tyra tells them that they have the strongest photos of the five girls remaining, but they're not good communicators. Jenah gets her photo. Bianca smiles a bit, and I just want to slap that evil mouth right off her face.
Jenah is practically sobbing, and at first I think it's out of relief, but then I think it's because she feels so bad for Heather. Heather hugs all the girls, even Bianca because, unlike us, she doesn't know all the crappy stuff she's been saying about Heather behind her back. Poor Heather.
Heather interviews that she thought her autism would be too big of a problem to do well in the competition, but that she learned a lot while she was there, expecially about the kindness of others. "The experience is more than a prize," she says, which is pretty profound. All in all, Best Departing Speech Ever.
My new prediction: Sal and Chantal will be the Final Two.
Next week: Tyra is their photographer for a shoot at The Great Wall. Bianca fucks over Jenah, and I get my hopes up that the judges are FINALLY going to see what a harpie Bianca is.
Posted at 08:15 AM | Comments (1)November 28, 2007
The Psychic
Reading a friend's blog post, I remembered something kinda odd. So I dug the tape out of the depths of a box of crap and listened to it again, just to make sure I was remembering it correctly. (You know, now that I'm 38.)
For my practice bachelorette party (before I got practice-married to my practice husband), Billi got me a psychic instead of a stripper. (Which is fine by me because I already know enough hotties I'm not allowed to touch.) The psychic gave readings to all the women present and encouraged us to record them to refer to later.
At the time, I was 26, marrying a 26 year old Mexican electrician who belonged to the stagehand union and worked on movies for a living. We knew we'd probably be living in our little apartment for some time, but that was fine because we also knew we didn't want children.
What I didn't know is that King Daley's tax hikes and fees would drive the movie business out of Chicago and into Canada (of all places!), and would also drive my husband to drink. Oh, who am I kidding. That started, I found out later, when he was thirteen. But at the time, I didn't know all that, so we were happy.
Well, I knew that psychic was off her rocker when she told me I would have two children, and my husband would make lots of money. I would be veeeerrrry comfortable.
The only way I would ever have two kids is if Jerry's parents died (I'm his legal guardian) AND if my entire family died, as did everyone else Spikette ever knew. Because I'm a last resort for Nephew's legal guardian, I'm sure. And at that time, Billi's children were still several years away.
As for money, I always figured we'd have enough to live on (HA!), but I knew the Lottery was our only hope for big money. So, yeah. The psychic? Utter nonsense.
Except that it wasn't utter nonsense. She merely failed to mention -- or politely left out because I was still on my first -- which husband was going to bring me two kids and good money.
True, Younger and Older Step Daugther are not my own kids. But I've cleaned their rooms and celebrated their victories and bought their favorite foods. In short, I've done everything I've been allowed to do. And I'm sure if Husband and Ex died, as did everyone they ever knew, the girls might... come to me when they need money.
And true, we're not filthy rich. My car is six years old, and our house is smaller than either of my sisters'. But you know what? I'm richer than I ever thought I'd be. I'm so rich, I know I'll never again have to decide between getting the phone turned back on or buying groceries.
I'm so rich, I can drive my gas-guzzling, Al-Gore-enraging SUV way-the-hell up to Gurnee twice a month to see Billi & Co. I'm so rich, I can buy $23 mascara and not hide it from Husband. I'm so rich, I'll never have to decide between paying my LivingDot fees for my blog or my eBay fees.
So I guess this isn't really an oooh-ahhhh, shivers-down-your-spine kind of story. Just a curious one. Was she a lucky guesser? Probably. It's just interesting how one's prospects can change. And thank God for that because Diorshow Mascara is like butter.
Posted at 08:38 AM | Comments (3)November 27, 2007
A Shred of Dignity, a Tissue of Puffs
I have finally reached the point in my headcold where I sound worse than I feel. The mucus has officially taken over my body, but at least walking from my bed to the couch doesn't exhaust me anymore.
People, you wouldn't believe the stuff coming out of my nose today: Play Doh, raspberry Jello, artichoke hearts, ground beef. I had no idea that stuff was in there! I certainly didn't put it there!
And when I blow my nose, I can feel it traveling from, like, the back of my neck, through my sinuses and into the Puffs. It's quite a disconcerting sensation.
And don't ask me to post photos. I have one shred of dignity left, and I'm trying to ride it out through the end of the year.
Know what else is gross? After I blow my nose, I can hear little pops and squeaks inside my head as all the snot redistributes itself to restore the phlegm equilibrium. It's like there's a whole little world inside my head. Well, okay, another one.
At night, a half an hour before bed, I start The Sacred Nose-Clearing Ritual so that I can lie down without suffocating to death. (I tried sleeping standing up, and I just don't know what the horses see in it. Maybe it's easier with four legs?)
First, I down my Nyquil. Next, I blow my nose until I see stars. Then I apply two shots of Anefrin to each nostril. When I can breathe freely out of both nostrils at once, I quickly go to sleep before anything changes.
I don't need an alarm to wake me up because I just wake up when all the drugs have worn off and I can't breathe anymore. Then comes the morning fun of blowing out all the stuff that accumulated in my head during the night.
So, where does that stuff stay all night, anyway? Seriously, it's like a cup and a half of goo before I'm done. Where was it all stored for eight hours? Must be that part of my skull that should house the Math part of my brain, except that it got left empty and became a mucus storage tank by default.
I haven't been this sick in a while, but I know exactly why The Cold Fairy chose now to kick my ass. Because I have a Chorale Christmas Concert this weekend, and my church Candlelight Service next weekend. In which I have a solo. So of course I'm sick.
I don't think I've been well for any Christmas singing activity at any point in my entire life. On the up side, I'm always well by Christmas Eve!
Enjoy your meals today, my friends. And if they include any of the aforementioned foods, well... I'd apologize, but I'll be laughing too hard.
Posted at 08:05 AM | Comments (6)November 26, 2007
"The Girls Go To Shanghai"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Heather fumbled and ran outta gas, and yet it was Ambreal who went home. I'm sure Ambreal is calling Al Sharpton right this very minute.
Tyra leaves some books for the girls so they can study up on China. It's so cute how she believes they can read. The girls pack their suitcases like crazed monkeys. Lisa is all upset about being in the Bottom Two last week, especially after enjoying Tyra's favor for so long.
Heather is packing and doesn't hear Bianca ask her to move so she can get by with her big-ass suitcase (or Heather is ignoring her, in which case I say, Hooray for passive aggression!). Finally, Heather moves, and Bianca interviews, "Send her ass home!"
If there is any justice in this world -- and if ANTM has taught us anything it's that there isn't -- Bianca will get sent home before Heather. And Bianca will have to suck on some bitter, sour grapes. And then perhaps make wine from them and drink herself to death.
The girls arrive in Shanghai, and Chantal says it's "an amazing, futuristic place. I feel like I'm on The Jetsens." Whereas Heather likens Shanghai to Vegas.
Jay and Miss J greet the girls... for no apparent reason because they're not even at their hotel, they're just at some random place where Jay probably liked the lighting or something. And then the girls move into their penthouse on the 63rd floor.
There are six girls and five beds, but one of the beds is huge, obviously meant to be shared. Sal nabs the huge bed but refuses to let Heather, the only one left bedless, sleep with her. Wait -- I thought Sal was one of the nice ones?
Bianca laughs in Heather's face. Heather cries. And really, can you blame her? She just came off a 14 hour plane ride, she's had to deal with Bianca's shit for weeks, and now someone who used to be kind to her is being a total bitch. I think I'd be at my boiling point, too.
Chantal thinks that Heather gets ganged up on a lot. She calmly states that the obvious solution is for two people who don't mind sleeping together to share the bed. Bianca and Jenah volunteer. Seriously, people, was that so hard?
Bianca interviews that she hates that Heather is 21 and needs people to stand up for her. Um, did Bianca miss the part where Heather has mild autism and has difficulty relating to people and is easily overwhelmed in social situations? Jesus, cut the girl some slack.
The girls arrive at some big film studio, where their "tour guide" is suddenly "attacked" by "ninjas," or some such shit. Tyra just kills me with the way she's always staging stuff. That whacky broad.
The girls learn the basics of martial arts, and since Bianca has the retention skills of a corn flake, she gets "sour," by her own admission. I just love it when people think that admitting their crappy behavior makes it okay. It's so charming.
The girls get changed into their faux-Chinese robes and are taken to a courtyard. There, they will have to don harnesses and do the poses they just learned 30 feet off the ground, a la "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon."
Heather is totally psyched to do it, but Bianca is freaking out because she's afraid of heights. Um, what was that about "not being able to handle modeling" and "having a nervous breakdown," Bianca?
Jenah and Chantal go up first and completely blank on all the poses, striking yet another blow against blondes everywhere.
Lisa is freaking out, too, but she keeps the goal in mind and eventually pulls her act together. She's up with Sal, who does pretty well.
Heather goes up with Bianca. Bianca says to Heather, "This is the only time you'll be able to kick my ass." Heh. As if her scrawny, scurvy body had an ass.
Bianca is crying, and it's just a soothing balm to my soul. Stupidly, Heather tries to pep-talk her into calming down. Oh, honey, don't bother. That bitch ain't gonna hate you any less no matter what you do, so just let her fail, like she was born to do.
Commercial break. And I must say, I really like Jaslene's My Life as a Cover Girl commercials more than any of the other winners'. I find her much more believable.
Bianca is crying and begging to be put back down on the ground. The guy running the challenge tells her that she'll be disqualified if she quits, and I get all excited, thinking she'll be disqualified from the competition. But no, she's just disqualified from the challenge. Big whoop.
Heather thinks it's a rush being up in the air. She loves it, and it shows in how graceful her poses are. She wins, natch. She gets $500+ for a shopping spree (which isn't much because, seriously, I could burn through that in under an hour -- I guess they're going to Old Navy) and to bring a friend.
She picks Chantal, and then she interviews that she almost picked Bianca. Probably as a kind of peace offering, which is stupid because Bianca would have just told her how crappy she looked when she tried stuff on. You can't kill that girl with kindness -- you have to cut off her head and stuff it with garlic.
I checked the ANTM official website, but it doesn't say how tall Heather is. I'd guess, if she's not six foot, she's darn close. So it's no surprise that she described their adventure on the streets of Shanghai as a couple of "giants in a land of little people." Quite a lame metaphor, if you ask me.
Tyra Mail! Something "inner queen," blah blah "let your beauty reign." And they are to bring their own outfits that best describe their personalities. Hmmm, I wonder if Bianca has anything skank-colored.
Turns out Cover Girl is selling their new Queen Collection, which is supposed to bring out the queen in you, or whatever.
Predictably, Heather chokes and can't memorize the lines. Sal is so adorable that Jay nearly goes straight. Bianca's voice is like fingernails on Satan's Chalkboard of Eternal, Writhing Agony, but she pulls it off. Jesus, the only thing she could sell me is a big ol' can of Shutthefuckup.
Back to Heather, who keeps blowing her lines, to the point where Jay has to feed her each one. Bianca watches and laughs. Jenah's eyes look amazing, but she needs thirteen takes.
Chantal is gorgeous and does pretty well. Lisa is terrified and totally tears up. I guess her inner queen is a real pussy.
Afterwards, Sal starts to lecture Lisa on what she needs to do, and Lisa blows her off, making Sal mad. Like, seriously, advice after the fact is really, really annoying. Sal should know that. Guess she's gearing up to be the new bitch once Bianca gets kicked to the curb.
Then Bianca starts talking smack, "They're not gonna send me home because I won't go flying thirty feet in the air -- I won't let them!" God, wouldn't that be awesome? Bianca's in the Bottom Two, and the other chick gets called, so Bianca tackles Tyra and yanks her wig off!
Heather and Lisa are also nervous but less full of smack.
Evaluations!
Tyra calls Lisa on crying during her commercial shoot and almost crying right there at panel. Her words of wisdom? "Let it go." Brilliant. THAT'S why she gets the big bucks, ladies and gentlemen. However, Lisa does get props for pulling her shit together and getting a "charming and approachable" photo.
Chantal looks like "Rebecca from Sunnybrook Farms." Is she related to Anne of Green Gables? Cuz I love that mini-series. One Sunday, I watched every damn episode ever made, back to back. Pure awesome.
Bianca tries to make her fear of heights about "trust issues," which just makes her more of a bitch. Her shoot is "flawed but beautiful." She shows attitude but is, apparently, "still approachable." I'm so sick of her. Have I mentioned that?
Jenah looks charming and "went for it with reckless abandon."
Sal was great the way she flirted with the camera, but her smile is all squinty in the photos.
Heather's commercial is completely screwed up, but the judges take turns masturbating to her photo. It shows a "different side of her." A side where she's smiling. Awwwwwww, remember smiling, Heather? In your life before Bianca?
Deliberations!
Lisa is getting weak. Chantal is Twiggy and Tyra's favorite flavor of the week.
Heather is gorgeous, but they're not sure she could handle a major client like Cover Girl. They don't see a whole lot of progress in Sal.
Jenah is not showing any beauty from within, and they're not sure she's completely invested in the competition. Bianca's delivery was hideous, but she has a great smile.
Tyra calls Chantal, Sal, Bianca and Jenah, leaving Heather and Lisa in the Bottom Two, and leaving Wenchie hysterical that Heather might get cut.
Lisa can't handle critique, and Heather can't deliver lines. Heather gets her photo because there's "something there." Lisa thanks Tyra and leaves graciously. Wenchie breathes a sigh of relief.
Next episode -- designer go-sees. Which we all know means we're going to see some tears and/or temper.
Posted at 08:14 AM | Comments (0)November 22, 2007
Danksgibing
Things I Am Thankful For Today
1. Zicam
2. Netflix
3. Puffs with aloe
4. Microwaves (to heat up my Thanksgiving dinner when Husband brings it home to me)
5. Sweatpants
6. Fleece bathrobes
7. Four-day weekends
8. Bed
9. Couch
10. Getting this cold over with before Christmas
Posted at 09:22 AM | Comments (0)November 19, 2007
Pumpkin Pie Cake
I like to bake. More specifically, I like to lick the bowl and the beater after I bake. But I don't want tons of baked goods in my house, lest I eat nothing else. So my place of employment provieds me with the perfect outlet. I get to bake, and then I get to bring it to where I won't eat all of it myself. As an added bonus, it also endears me to co-workers.
Well, most of them.
Recently, I made pumpkin pie cake [see recipe below] and brought it to work. I have noticed over the years, that bringing baked goods to work separates everyone into three categories:
1. The people who tell me it looks wonderful and then don't have any. These people are usually thin and/or vegans and/or exercise addicts. They are quiet and don't really bother me.
2. The people who complain about me bringing food into what is apparently their own personal Diet Zone. I hate these people. I am not trying to ruin anyone's life, so don't rag at me. One guy was like, "Oh, man, I'm on a diet, I can't eat that. Why you got to bring that in here? You should bring cottage cheese or something!" Dude? Buy your own fucking cottage cheese. It's not my responsibility to keep fattening food out of your mouth -- it's yours.
3. The people who help themselves to a piece and tell me how nice I am, and then come back later and tell me how wonderful it was. These people are typically overweight to varying degrees, and I love them. They're not giving me shit; they're not making me listen to them bitch about their size. They like food, and they're okay with that, and they're okay with people knowing that.
I'm not anti-thin, and God knows I'm not anti-diet. I'm just anti-make-everyone-else-suffer-because-you're-on-a-diet. Just save your energy for your will power because you're going to need it. The holidays are approaching!
Today, I brought in chocolate chip cookies.
Cottage Cheese Guy saw me watching him take a handful, and he said, "I'm not on a diet anymore."
I said, "Good! Because you were boring the shit out of me."
* * * * *
Pumpkin Pie Cake
Ridiculously simple, decadantly yummy.
1 29-oz. can pure pumpkin
1 12-oz. can evaporated milk
4 eggs
1-1/2 cups sugar
2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1 box yellow cake mix
1 cup butter
Preheat over to 350. Mix pumpkin, evaporated milk, eggs, sugar and spices. Pour into ungreased 9x13 pan. Sprinkle box of cake mix evenly over top. Drizzle with melted butter. Bake 65-75 min., until lightly browned on top. Cool. Refridgerate several hours before serving. [Wenchie tip: When you serve it, if you flip it so it's upside down, it's easier to get your fork into without squashing it all over the place.]
Posted at 01:20 PM | Comments (1)November 16, 2007
Belch, Clocks, Heather
Husband: Stella's belch sounds different than Daisy's.
PW: Um... I think you've been spending too much time with the dogs.
* * * * *
PW: [picks up her ringing phone] Hello?
Irene: Hi, this is Irene, calling from Dr. Angel's office. We have you down for a 9:30 appointment.
PW: Yep!
Irene: Well... are you coming in?
PW: It's only 10 to 9:00.
Irene: [*cricket* *cricket*]
PW: Did you forget to turn your clocks back?
Irene: Nooooo, that's tomorrow.
PW: Oh... Shit... I'll be there in 10 minutes.
* * * * *
Husband: You gonna be home for dinner?
PW: Well, yeah. I was gonna go out with Heather, but I have a headache. I think I'm gonna bow out.
H: You can't go out anyway -- it's Wednesday.
PW: Aaaaaaaand...?
H: "America's Next Top Model" is on!!!
PW: ... Why, yes, honey, I am disappointed that I won't be seeing Heather because I have a splitting headache. Thank you for your concern.
H: I'm just sayin'.
Posted at 01:35 PM | Comments (0)November 15, 2007
"The Girl Who Starts To Lose Her Cool"
Previously, on "America's Next Top Model," Tyra wore a wig, and Miss J's afro got even bigger.
Lisa has been riding her crest of number-one-ness and feels pressure to stay there. God, I know how she feels! Heather is so sad about Sarah leaving and doesn't want anyone else to go. (Of course, the unspoken clause is, "Except Bianca.")
Bianca, in turn, tries to psych Heather into failing by spouting her "nervous breakdown" shit some more. Whatever happened to the Bianca that was actually a decent human being for an episode or two? Did the exorcism not take?
Tyra Mail! Schooled and a-mused.
Oh God. Benny Ninja lives up to his name and is wearing a... shirt reminiscent of... ancient Japanese armor? And a kilt. In the name of all that is holy, Benny Ninja has no business wearing The Pinnacle of Hottness that is The Kilt. People, even HE is not gay enough to pull off the combined Samuri/Braveheart look.
Anyhoo, they're at some school of fashion called F.I.D.M., where each girl is going to be paired with a designer. It's the girls' job to inspire their designer to create a dress specifically for her. So really, it's much more about the designers than the models, and they should be judged on if they were able to discern a shred of personality in their assigned model.
Bianca "ain't feelin'" her designers idea of Cleopatra. And neither am I. Think Ghetto-patra. Lisa likes to show her legs, which inspires her designer to put her in a short skirt. Voila! A match made in heaven!
Heather's designer just flat out doesn't get her. She should wear a shirt that says, "I'm not a bitch, I'm just autistic." And how tired am I of hearing Bianca bitch about how Heather doesn't have to do anything or try. Jesus Q. Christ, whine, whine, whine.
The winner gets to do a holiday jewelry spread in Seventeen.
Upon seeing their dresses, Bianca and Heather both think that their's is "not me." But Benny Ninja Samuri Braveheart ain't havin' it and orders the girls to "own it!"
Bianca does her "Cleopatra with an attitude" schtick. Okay, can she do anything without attitude? Because I'm not seeing the versatility that Tyra demands. I know Tyra hates to cut a sistah, but seriously, when is this bitch going home?
Heather gets stage fright and completely flubs her lines, which I might do, too, if forced to say something as retarded as "spirit of the ocean." I'm not worried -- Tyra loves her too much to send her home over one bad day.
Ambreak skipped and was darling. Jenah was an awesome "rock star ballerina." Lisa sucked and cried. Hee! She has shitty hair. Chantal was a "goddess Barbie," which makes me like her by default. Sal was a girly treat in her pixie ensemble. Her little wink made Chantal barf, which makes me love her pixie-ness even more.
(Okay, I think I'm giving Tyra a run for her money in the Fickle Bitch of the Year contest.)
In the critiques, Ambreal is accused of rushing and overselling her dress. Jerks. Bianca was more attitude than dress. Lisa's flubs completely derailed her.
Heather was blah and couldn't deliver her lines (which makes Bianca squeeeeeeeeeee with delight). And then Heather gives the Best Excuse Ever for not "owning" her spirit of the ocean dress -- "I'm not a water sign; I'm a fire sign."
BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Sal wins and picks two friends -- Bianca and Lisa -- a crime I can't forgive. She is dead to me.
Heather is really upset about how bad she sucked, and the other girls console her, except Bianca's consoling sounds like, "You need to get tougher skin."
Tyra Mail! Burnt out, the heat is on.
I have to ask -- when the hell are they going to do the Naughty Catholic School Girl shoot? I'm just sayin'.
Lisa and Sal race into the GROUP SHOWER, but Heather is mad because she called it first. Unfortunately, the shots of three naked girls in the steamy shower yelling at each other doesn't even have any hair-pulling or pixelated nipples. Heather snaps and Sal runs scared, making Bianca laugh her ass off.
In all fairness, I'm surprised that MORE girls don't lose their shit after spending EVERY SINGLE SECOND with a bunch of strangers, without even t.v. or anything. Sweet Jesus, I'd stab them in the jugular with my mascara brush.
The girls have their earliest wake-up call ever. They road trip it to the middle of the desert, where Jay describes a photo shoot with a burning car. He talks about "model wasteland" and "desperation." Oh, that Jay, such a painter of pictures.
Bianca goes first, and Jay tells her she is "wearing me out with how fabulous you are." I vomit into Dick's slipper. Heather looks lost and awkward, but not in her usual good way.
Sal uses her anger at Jay's criticism to make the shoot work for her. Ambreal frustrates Jay with her posing. Because models... aren't supposed to pose. Apparently.
Jenah is an amazing amazer who amazes. Lisa doesn't work the garment.
Bianca is dying to hear from Heather what Jay said to make her cry. Because she's a vampire and feeds off the pain of others. Ambreal feels that Heather is babied by the other girls. Heather admits to having a hard time. Hmm. Me thinks she is losing her House Pet Status.
Tyra Mail! Judging. Heather is really worried. But I'm not.
Wait, now I am. A Chinese dragon just showed up. And Tyra is... talking to it. Eek. I love Tyra's flair for the theatrical, and how it always falls short.
Oh, it's a lion, and six of the seven girls standing in front of Tyra are going to China. Is that what lions look like in China? What a strange and beautiful country!
Jenah's photo is fab. She's broken down, in a good way. She was all over the place in her film, in a good way.
Heather is brilliant, but this was her weakest shoot. She admits to having "one of those weeks," and Tyra counsels her to compartmentalize.
Sal is good but not striking. She took chances on her film, but not often enough.
Chantal's photo is her best ever. Tyra gives her a tongue-bath and says her legs look as long as the desert.
Ambreal looks good facially, but her garment is hidden.
Bianca looks like she just set the car on fire. Why isn't anyone calling her on the fact that ANGRY is her only emotion?
Lisa looks short, and that's weird because girl is talllllllllllllll.
Deliberations.
Okay, this commercial is just wrong. You know the one with the panty liner riding the mechanical bull? Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Jenah has all the goods.
Tyra still loves Heather's mystery and thinks she's hott.
Sal is drop-dead gorgeous but also someone you'd want to hang out with.
Chantal is finally not looking sugary-sweet. Tyra thinks she looks like Cheryl Tiegs, which causes Husband to go to his happy place and recall "looking at" Tiegs' famous bathing suit photos.
Ambreal is just not special enough and doesn't know how to pose. See, Heather? You're not going home!
Bianca blah blah kick butt blah blah strong blah blah BORING! When will they learn???
Lisa is going downhill and doesn't photograph "fresh enough," i.e. she looks old.
Called in order of love: Bianca, Jenah, Sal, Chantal and Heather. (Cut to Bianca's sullen face.)
Lisa and Ambreal are in the Bottom Two, and no one is surprised when Lisa gets her photo, least of all Ambreal.
Next episode, the girls are in Shanghai, and a Cover Girl shoot totally fucks with their heads. Awesome.
Posted at 04:03 PM | Comments (0)November 14, 2007
I've Got Yoooouuu Under My Skin
So if my 100% eBay feedback rating (from 816 unique users) isn't enough proof that I'm a socially-inept poindexter, perhaps this will help tip it in:
I have R.T.S. Repetitive Task Syndrome, which basically means I'm doing the same thing over and over, too much. The R.T.S. is in my forearm. My right forearm. That's right, I have... Mouser's Arm.
I have a computer-related injury, people. I shouldn't be surprised, really. Think of all the other injuries I've gotten by doing nothing particularly strenuous: hurt my leg jogging across the street; sprained my ankle taking the garbage out; kinked my neck while sleeping. It only makes sense that I pulled a muscle sitting on my ass looking at lip glosses.
Dr. Angel: If the inflamation reaches the tendons, it's gonna be tennis elbow.
PW: You do realize the full irony of that statement, don't you?
I hate him so much sometimes. He thinks he's so smart, with his degrees on the wall and his books on the shelves. If he's not careful, I'm going to stop thinking about him every time I shower.
I was so excited when he suggested acupuncture! I let him stick ten needles into my arm, and honestly, it didn't even hurt.
PW: Cool! I look like that guy from "Hellraiser!"
Dr. A: Neat, huh?
PW: Oh, man, I wish I had my camera so you could take a picture for my blog.
Dr. A: I'll take one with my phone and email it to you! [leaves and comes back with phone] Now, I've never actually done this before...
PW: Is there a thirteen year old in the waiting room who could help you?
Dr. A: No. [takes the photo] Got it! Now what's your email address?
PW: S... L...
Dr. A: Wait, slow down!
PW: [gives him whole email address] ...at Yahoo dot com.
Dr. A: T-Y?
PW: No, C-O-M.
Dr. A: Shut up. Now lemme see if I can figure this out...
PW: Know what I love? You've got people in your waiting room, and you're in here emailing me a photo of my perforated arm.
Dr. A: Meh. They're fine.
Of course, the photo didn't go through the first two times he tried to send it. I had to call him at work and have him resend it, but here's the fruit of his labor:
Irrefutable proof that I finally got poked by Dr. Angel.
Posted at 07:52 AM | Comments (4)November 09, 2007
The Back Bone's Connected to the... Poop Bone!
As has been established, I don't poop while on vacation.
Have we covered Sleeping In Any Bed But Her Own Gives Wenchie a Lower Back Ache? Well, it does.
PMS also gives me a lower back ache and keeps me from my regular pooping schedule.
Calamity ensued when PMS and vacation happened at the same time last month. I went up to Door County with Billi and Terri, while riding the cotton pony.
Like many people, we ate extra-much while away from home. By the third day of not pooping, I had to wonder just how backed up my system was and if perhaps I should stop eating altogether. I pictured my intestines like a queue, velvet ropes holding people in their place in the snaking line. The line getting longer and longer as the weekend wore on. Every bite I took, I could just see the queue getting fuller and fuller, like the line for Disney's Haunted Mansion (the ride, not the movie).
By the time I got home, I was in an awful state. My lower back was crippled, partly from constipation pain, partly from PMS-inflamed strange-bed syndrome.
(It has occurred to me that this post really wins the prize for Too Much Information. And knowing this blog, that's really saying something!)
Luckily, I had an appointment with my chiropractor for Monday, for my RTS (repeated task syndrome, i.e. I spend too much time at my computer mousing, and thus my forearm and elbow burns with every movement -- I have a blog-related injury).
PW: Dr. Angel, I have a stupid question.
Dr. A: Those are my favorite kind!
PW: Can a messed up back affect your insides?
Dr. A: Sure. What hurts?
PW: My lower back is KILLING me.
Dr. A: Oh, so you're constipated!
PW: Wha-- NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Dr. A: You're not constipated?
PW: No, I just... There's a rule! You're not supposed to talk about constipation with a hot guy!
Dr. A: I'm not! I'm talking about it with you!
PW: Well, I'm not at liberty to discuss my inner-workings. Let's just say I'm having issues. Now fix my damn back.
So he did. I burped twice in the car and farted four times in the Post Office. The machinery was coming back to life.
I pooped within an hour of getting home, and then twice more before going to bed.
Now THAT'S a chiropractor!
Posted at 03:11 PM | Comments (2)November 08, 2007
"The Girls Who Crawl"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Wenchie ate pudding and did her nails while watching the episode, and still managed to write a recap that was way too long.
Okay, before I start -- did anyone see the episode of the Tyra Banks Show where she talked about What's Up Down There? Tyra Banks and vaginas! I can't believe I missed it! If you have it TiVo-ed, lemme know because I'm coming over. I'll bring cookies and wine!
So, the girls are talking about Ebony's decision to go and how it was the right thing for her to do. Ambreal is very aware that she's "not supposed to be here," so she has to prove that she belongs in the competition.
Sarah is scared about her weight, since she now no longer fits in any modeling category. She's not super-thin, and she's not big enough. So basically, there's no room for NORMAL in modeling. There's so much wrong with that, I can't even go into it.
Chantal talks about how the "other girls are lacking," but that she's "got it all." A sure sign that she's going home.
The ever-charming Bianca is talking smack about Heather right in front of her, right to her face. She says that Heather doesn't do anything and doesn't work at anything. The other girls start to defend her, and Bianca wonders why they all stick up for her.
Um, maybe because it's human nature? Maybe because you're forcing them to defend her by always harping on her? Maybe because it's human instinct to want to protect anyone being treated badly or unfairly? It's not a mystery, bitch!
Bianca hates that they treat her differently. Frankly, I don't see any coddling going on. I just see the girls aware that Heather has some challenges, and they are trying to make her comfortable.
Then Bianca adds that they shouldn't be making the competition easier for Heather because "she's kicking your asses."
Tyra Mail! "This is why I'm hot, and this is why you're not." ... Wigs?
The girls have to put on skin colored leotards, which are not flattering on ANYONE. Then Tyra comes in a la Debbie Allen and gives them the dance teacher's lecture from "Fame."
The girls need to learn how to move sexily for film. I think Tyra really has her work cut out for her. As pretty as these girls are, frankly, they're too young and gangly to be very sexy. And Sarah is the only one with any butt to speak of.
The girls learn a sexier runway walk, "eye penetration" (ew), coyness, sliding down a wall (legs together) and crawling. And when doing all these things, the emphasis is on classy sexy, not hootchie. And I don't think that really classy women crawl or slide down walls, but what do I know.
Tyra voice-overs that Chantal is "running on half a tank of gas" and "not pushing." Yup, she's going home.
Bianca "holds back" and "becomes insecure" when Tyra coaches her. And when Tyra gushes all over Heather, Bianca interviews that "Heather can do no wrong."
Tyra says that Heather has a "Tim Burton-esque sexuality." Oh my God. Is that a good thing?
Feeling discouraged that she hasn't broken Heather's will to live, yet, Bianca finds a new victim. As she and Sarah stand at the mirror in the bathroom, Bianca tactlessly says, "I weigh the most of all the girls in the house."
Sarah just gives her a tired, are-you-fucking-kidding-me look and says, "Do you really wanna play that game?" And then walks away.
Tyra Mail! Something about musicians and the spotlight. I guess I would be as excited as the girls, if I didn't already know that it's Enrique Iglesias, and he's about as believable as a heterosexual dreamboat as I am as a nun.
Jessie Terrero is there, and he's apparently some big-time video director. But he's not on Wikipedia, so how famous could he be? (Okay, I just checked to see if I'm on Wikipedia. I'm not.)
Oh my God. The costumes are totally Caberet-Drag-Queen. They're all black pleather and strappy and buckles and netting. Terrero says he's going for a "vampire-esque, goth look," but this ain't it. Don't vampires wear, like, head-to-toe velvet and capes and such?
One of the girls is to have a "featured role," but they cut to commercial before it's announced. Of course.
Oh Lord. Drew Barrymore is touting Cover Girl now. Is she hard up for money or something? I'm just saying, a big Hollywood name like Drew is not going to Walmart and buying Cover Girl. She's getting free shit from NARS and Laura Mercier and such. I'm just sayin'.
And the featured girl is Lisa. Blech. She's definitely not one of my favorites. Terrero says she has "the right vibe." Thin hair is a vibe now? And in a surprise move, he also picks Heather for a featured role. (And judging from the video, "featured role" means you get to touch Enrique.)
Bianca is all, "Are you kidding me?!"
Chantal brags that, "I have this natural talent" and blah, blah, blah. On film, Terrero says she's "stiff" and "didn't own it." HA! She's soooooooo going home.
Ambreal got to do a wall slide. Hootchie-mama. Lisa really "got into" her featured part, which was all of 3 seconds.
Then Heather is hunched over in the corner, having not eaten for 12 hours, and it being incredibly hot on the set. Yeah, um, I'm pretty sure it's illegal not to feed your extras for 12 hours, so what the hell is up with that? She barfs, can't walk, can't breathe, and yet the only ones who seemed concerned are the other girls. Nice.
They give her oxygen and a banana. Hey, how about a meatball sub or something, huh? Heather interviews that it warmed her heart to see how concerned the other girls were.
Bianca starts her two cents with, "I hate to be a bitch, but..." She says that the modeling life is too much for Heather, who won't be able to take it and will have a "nervous breakdown." Way to blow it out of proportion, Bianca. That's quite a case of wishful thinking you have there.
[By the way, here's the video on YouTube, and there's not one ANTM chick in it. Here's the one on the ANTM website.]
Tyra Mail! Judging.
Chantal is all, "I'm not nervous. This is what I was born to do. I'll still be here next week." Oh, she is so getting eliminated.
Everyone takes a look at the girls' takes. Lisa's is good acting. Saliesha surprises everyone by looking devilish. Sarah looks wicked but uncomfortable with her body. Heather looks evil and demonic, which is a good thing. Jenah looks too cute. Chantal is holding back. Bianca is sexy but not fluid and does too much kissy stuff.
Deliberations.
Lisa is very strong on film. Ambreal has no magic. Jenah is not in control of her sexiness. Well, neither am I, for that matter. It just spills all over the place -- I can't help it!
Heather is a little off but stepped it up. She's awkward but takes direction well. Saliesha is good. Sarah is "no plus-size," but the camera loves her. Chantal fell flat. Bianca has a bad-ass confidence that was right for the role.
Tyra calls, in the order of her fickle affection: Lisa, Heather, Sal, Bianca, Ambreal (who is surprised not to be in the Bottom Two) and Jenah.
Sarah and Chantal are in the Bottom Two. Sarah is very good, but her place in the industry is confusing, i.e. she's not fat enough or thin enough. Chantal is just coasting, and her shoot was a waste of film.
Chantal gets her pic--WHAT?! Chantal gets to stay?! What the hell??? Sarah is sobbing her eyes out, as is Husband. He loves Sarah. I just can't believe that boring-ass Chantal gets to stay. There is no justice.
Next episode: Heather finally loses it with Bianca. In the shower. Sweet.
Posted at 05:57 PM | Comments (1)November 07, 2007
I Need Rich Friends
There is nothing in the world I want more than...
Not world peace. Not a long and healthy life. Not true and lasting love. Just this barbie.
And I'm sorry I had to put a link instead of a photo, but Mattel says that usage of her image is punishable by death. Which is completely understandable because, well, LOOK AT HER!!!
She is the embodiment of all things perfect and sunshiney and bisexual! I need her in my life!
She is rainbows and ponies and wind in your hair! She is dark chocolate and live music and always having the perfect witty retort!
And none of you cheap bastards are going to buy her for me, so I'd better step-up the eBaying. I need some rich friends.
You know what Vicki got for her birthday? From a friend? Not a sister, not a sugar daddy, not someone whose life she saved. Just a friend.
She got a $300 Dooney & Bourke purse.
People, I think you know what I'm getting at here. Vicki is not special. She is not more deserving of extravagance than I am. True, she's not shallow and spoiled and selfish like me, but that doesn't make her a better person!
Oh, wait. That's pretty much the definition of Better Person, isn't it? Okay, switch tactics.
I will totally have sex with whomever buys me Pirate Barbie. Male, female, cyborg, undead zombie alien -- I don't care.
[And Husband, since you're already entitled to sex with me by default, I will totally let you tie me up and do horrible, nasty things to me that you've only read about in books... that you found in my nightstand.]
All right. Pony up.
[And in related news, Coach is now making a skull and crossbones key fob.]
November 06, 2007
The Pretzel Incident
Egrau is a flight attendant. Or "sky goddess," as she prefers. I won't mention what airline she works for, lest you stalk the friendly skies looking for her; suffice to say that, at this point, she's almost used to bending over and grabbing her ankles.
This high threshhold for pain comes in very handy when handling difficult customers, as she does on a regular basis. These men -- they're almost always men -- range from those who can't keep their hands off her butt, to those who can't handle their little, tiny bottles of booze and must be physically restrained.
Egrau has the best stories.
Recently, she encountered a passenger made quite surly by the hour delay, during which they sat on the tarmac while the flight attendants went into damange control mode, doing everything they could to keep the impatient flyers happy. In all honesty, most people handle delays with adequate decorum.
But there's always one.
This gentleman was particularly upset by the delay and seemed to hold Egrau personally responsible. Or perhaps she bore a striking resemblence to his ex-wife. Whatever the reason -- and it was certainly no fault of Egrau's -- this man was bound and determined to make trouble for her.
First, he wanted a seltzer water. "The WHOLE bottle," he demanded.
Sensing trouble, Egrau said with sugary-sweetness, "Of course, sir! On This Airline, we always give you the whole bottle!"
Then he wanted a tomato juice. "The WHOLE bottle," he repeated.
"Of course, sir!"
Unable to crack Egrau's determined kindness, he switched tactics.
"I want more than one bag of pretzels."
"Well, sir, I have to make sure there's enough for everyone, first," she sing-songed in her best Disneyland voice. "Then, if there are any left, I will bring you some."
"You better."
And the really scary thing here? He was sober! Tonic water and tomato juice! Dude wasn't even drinking, and he was still a total dick! Not that alcoholism is an excuse, but at least you can be comforted by the fact that you're not the reason he's an asshat.
When Egrau was done distributing beverages and pretzels, she had plenty of bags left, so she decided to kill the jerk with kindness. She went back to his seat and placed not one, not two, but FOUR bags of pretzels on his tray.
Ha! Try to be a douche with four bags of pretzels!
As she walked away, she heard him bellow, "Don't ever do that again! Don't ever do that again!"
And four bags of pretzels pelted her body.
Now granted, little snack bags aren't really going to hurt, unless a corner gets you in the eye or something. But... DUDE THREW PRETZELS AT HER! What the fuck?! The Boy Child knows better than to throw things, and he's FOUR!
One of the bags bounced off Egrau and hit another passenger. The thrower apologized, and the other passenger said, "Don't apologize to me! Apologize to HER!"
But he didn't. And to this day, Egrau still has no idea what it is that she's never supposed to do again.
The senior flight attendant on the flight told the captain about the incident, and he wanted to have the guy arrested and handcuffed as soon as the plane landed. But Egrau really didn't want that. Mainly because it was her last leg of her trip, and she preferred going home to filling out paperwork and being interviewed.
So the senior flight attendant told the pretzel-thrower, "I told the captain about your behavior, and he is in favor of having you arrested as soon as we land. However, the final decision is Egrau's. So you may want to spend the last hour of our trip thinking of what you might like to say to her."
Fifty-five minutes later, Pretzel Boy finally managed a brief, mumbled apology to Egrau, who smiled and thanked him ever so kindly. Think Scarlett O'Hara.
But don't worry, folks. Mr. Whole Bottle's story isn't over. See, he's going to find himself having a bit of difficulty. He'll be the first one bumped from overbooked flights. He'll be pulled aside for luggage checks.
For the rest of his flying career.
And he never even ate the pretzels.
Posted at 03:00 PM | Comments (2)November 05, 2007
"The Girl Who Runs Into the Glass Door"
While the title of this episode sounds promising, I didn't really rush to get this recap done because it's one of those Recap of the First Half of the Show episodes. (Done for whose benefit, I can't imagine.) In fact, I only just watched the episode last night.
I'm not going to recap the stuff we've already seen. Just the bonus extras... or the parts I missed because I was getting pudding from the fridge.
Thirty-three broke-down models set sail. But first! They had to get through Cap'n J's Fashion Check Point, where he made all the girls open their luggage so he could throw away their tights, hootchie skirts, etc.
I'm telling you right now, I could watch an entire hour of Miss J emptying these girls' suitcases and mocking their fashion choices. Unfortunately, all I got was 10 seconds.
It's interesting to see how Ebony was at the beginning of the season, before the panel of judges pulverized her will to live. What a bitch! She openly confesses that she's going to ruin the other "bitches'" self-esteem in order to win. Huh. Guess that didn't go too well, eh?
Miss Yale gets sick on the boat. And I think they showed that before, but I just really enjoyed it. She was such a self-righteous little twat.
And then there's Spontaniouse. Don't correct me -- she doesn't spell it right, either. She and her accent are from Alabama, and she tells the panel a very graphic story of how spontaneous her birth was, and that's why her Mom named her that. Ew.
There's a montage that Tyra prefaces with some bullshit about "poise and grace," so the clips of clumsy, screaming, running, falling girls is no surprise.
HA! Biana runs into a glass door! Like a bird! Or a model with the I.Q. of a bird! Oh my God, that's so awesome. And they show the very detailed face-grease mark she leaves on the glass. It's disturbing.
Tyra's "No Smoking Season" rule forces Jenah to quit cold turkey, which she deals with by pelting the other models with... small heads of lettuce? I can't tell, but they hurt, and the girls aren't happy.
Then, in a fantastic display of karma, Jenah smacks her face on the bottom of the pool, chipping her tooth. Bwaaaaaaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Unfortunately, the procedure to fix it is painless.
Long-haired Bianca, who is decidedly different than bald Bianca, throws down with Saliesha for no apparent reason, so Chantal jumps in the mix and goes totally Jerry Springer on Bianca. It's ridiculous. What could have been a lovely and heroic moment is turned into, "This is how you walk!" "Yeah? Well, this is how you walk!"
Bianca interviews that she decided to mess with Heather. She cuts in front of Heather, who is waiting to use the phone. And then she defends her actions by saying that Heather is acting 12. I hope that, for the rest of her life, Bianca is embarassed by her actions on national television. She's entirely pointless. She shouldn't even exist.
And in another splendid karmic event, Kim is sent home, and Bianca is left feeling very lonely. HA!
Jenah helps Bianca plunge a toilet. Looks like Biance used an entire roll of toilet paper. Let's not go there.
Sal stresses frantically over her new, short hair-do.
Well, it's a good thing they didn't give Ambreal extensions because she "hates hair." She says it feels like "bugs and spiderwebs." I have so many theories about this. What the hell kind of house did she grow up in?
We see Miss Yale jumping down Twiggy's throat again, and Tyra calls her abraisive. Miss Yale interviews something about how she "comes off as" abraisive, but she's not.
Lemme give you a little life lesson here. If everyone thinks you "come off as" something, then you ARE that something. It's not a mistake that the entire world is making. It's a personality flaw that you should probably spend some time reflecting on.
Jenah steals Sarah's bikini top in the pool, so Sarah steals Jenah's, and they both run through the house topless. I wonder if the crew is all female or what?
Bald Bianca has the other girls play a game with her. She tears up some tissue and puts it in the middle of their little circle. The girls all take however many pieces they want, and for every piece, they have to tell something really personal about themselves.
Bianca explains why she's such a bitch, and instead of using it as an excuse to continue to be a bitch, takes the opportunity to compliment all the girls. This must be the turning point where she becomes a decent human being. It's the Miricle of the Tissue Game. I'm so doing this at my next Movie Night.
Oh God. It's Tyra "rap session" with the girls. This time, it's about body image. Some chick doctor joins them, along with Dani, to talk about being told to lose weight, as they inevitably will be.
Dani was told to lose, and she was mad and scared and didn't want to betray herself... so she lost the weight. The whole thing basically boils down to a lot of lip service because Tyra's final message is, "Do whatever it takes to make your dream happen." Nice.
Then we have to watch the whole painful encounter with that hot, black guy. Not much to say except to repeat Sarah's reaction, which is perhaps the most quotable quote of the season:
"Once he looked at my boobs, but he was really classy and subtle about it."
Love it. And you can't top that so why try?
Tune in later this week for the Julio Inglesias video gone horribly awry.
Posted at 02:17 PM | Comments (1)