November 28, 2008
To the Poor Doggies
After posting photos of the vintage light-up Santa (that I got from Garrance), my dear, sweet, elderly mother sent me the following threatening email:
Please tell Stella and Daisy that if I could (and believe me, I REALLY can't), I would come over and toss that ugly, plastic red person out on its tush. It is an abomination to subject those cute, innocent pups to that hideous fake person.Is your love and respect for them fading? Has your love gone to other animals we don't yet know about? Please, in God's name, put that thing in the basement or the shed, or at the curb before it does something to their psyche.
Tell them Gramma still loves them and hopes you will get your mind back and let them be happy dogs again. If you don't fix this, I'll have to take this up with MR. Wenchie, and you know what a hard-ass he can be.
All my Love, Mommie Dearest
My favorite part is that she thinks I ever had any respect for my dogs.
Posted at 10:18 AM | Comments (1)November 26, 2008
Heather & I Review "Twilight" via I.M.
A.K.A. Heather & I Overuse "Also?"
It should be noted that Heather and I were two of seventeen people in the theatre. All female. And we brought the median age up about a decade.
That being said, we were, without question, the most obnoxious, distracting and disrespectful people in the place. We were doing that ugly-crying-laugh during the scene where Bella and Edward were slow-dancing in his room, and that's when I snorted. In a near-silent theatre. With an echo.
Yeah, I hate us, too.
PW: first of all, a review of my movie snack. I don't think they use any real chocolate in Snow Caps anymore. I'm deeply saddened.
H: they don't? that is very sad.
PW: it's the end of an era, really.
H: no dinosaurs, eskimos, and real chocolate any more.
PW: SO not worth the $3.50 they raped me for them. but let's get to the real issue. was Twilight worth the $9.50 we paid for it?
H: no. no it was not. did you have nonpariels in your bra?
PW: I did have nonpariels in my bra. you must have overlooked them when you where in there. :) what about that part where Bella drops an apple, and Edward hacky-sacks it up into his hands. luck, or CGI?
PW: I blinked both times. so it just looked like "hey. an apple"
PW: blinked, or nodded off?
H: yes. I am still reeling that they included the baseball scene and didn't mention this
PW: LUCAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
H: yes! he pitches EXACTLY THE SAME as Alice
PW: pointy toe and all?
H: no, just really hot.
PW: how sad that you had that link READILY at hand. I know you watch it 20 times a day
H: we must mention that I can't wait until the werewolves get all grown up adult-like
PW: TOTALLY! now those are some dogs I would totally fuck
H: omg can you BE any funnier?
PW: I hope not. I don't want to snort again.
H: i understand
PW: altho that WAS the highlight of the entire movie
H: that was one of my favorite parts of hte movie! when you snorted!
PW: HA!
H: jinx!
PW: damn! well played
H: and how hot are the dads? because that's what made us old. the liking the dads more than the kids, right? and do note that if any boy took us on a 'let's climb trees and hike outside while I get all emo on your ass" date, we would have kicked his ass and found ourselves a real werewolf...er...man.
PW: I'm picturing you in a tree in your "comfy walking stillettos" which is kinda hott. especially the part where you cry cuz you're outside
H: i had to commune with this stump...
PW: I love the ballet leap mid-running the bases [in HSM2]!
H: happend in both HSM and twilight, strangely enough!
PW: HAAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! ok, that's my masters thesis -- the parallels between HSM and Twilite
H: "while the levels of hate-inducing teenaged-angst differ btwixt the films, there are many parellels...."
PW: betwixt? nice
H: thanks
PW: omg, the Twilight website is so fucking slow
H: it's all flash.
PW: so you've been there...? loser. they have, like, 5 photos on the whole site. piece of crap
H: it is.
PW: I just clicked on the "party kit" link. custom Twilight Evite!
H: DO tell.
PW: there's a Twilihgt Party Checklist. let's see... razorblades, black skinny jeans, mousse
H: eyeliner. extra eyebrow hair...
PW: omg "Practice your OME! (Oh My Edward!) Scream!"
H: SO, what would you scream, exactly?
PW: I have no idea. Oh My Edward?
H: "what happened to your hair? "
PW: there's no photos of the dads or the werewolves
H: we;ll have to start our own site for the hot people from that movie. danm it.
PW: seriously. Rosalie is actually a brunette from The OC. no wonder I hate her. really? they couldn't find an actual blonde?
H: did you read what you just wrote, there? "an actual blonde" seriously.
PW: I know. how 'bout someone with less shitty roots?
H: ok, that's a good question, there. yes. also? we need to address the snoggability of the crazy-eyed vampire
PW: Mr. Rathbone makes me want to commit pedophilia
H: YES!
PW: he was born in 84 so he's... math in my head... 24!
H: holy crap.
PW: totally fuckable!
H: legal, but... man.
PW: yeah, he looks 12
H: and better as a brunette.
PW: yeah, totally
PW: Carlisle was in Riding in Cars with Boys. weird. James is 26, also of The OC. WEREWOLF HOTNESS! and totally illegal
H: even better!!!!
PW: should we discuss the cinematography or editing or something?
H: um. sure! I almost forgot to mention Crumping!
PW: yeah, but now I don't remember the context... it certainly wasn't the prom. were there, like, 11 people in their graduating class? and how did Victoria get in without a date or a ticket?
H: maybe she had both?
PW: did she eat all the chaperones?
H: HA! also? their whole town was smaller than our graduating class.
PW: true
H: I'm sure that if you liked the outside, the sweeping vista camera shit would be awesome? and if you like DWR catalogues, you would love the vampire's house.
PW: DWR? Dances With Redwoods?
H: HA! design within reach.
PW: I'm all about the Pottery Barn and Sundance. Also? What straight guy has a chaise lounge? Seriously, where was the vibrating leather couch with built-in phone and mini-fridge?
H: he was listening to bette midler. what do you expect? also? the music wasn't half bad, acutally, I was thinking of getting the soundtrack.
PW: oh thank god. I was, too, and I didn't want to have to hide it from you
H: you don't need to hide from me! I embrace the gay!
PW: YAY! actually, I just wanna listen to that last song and remember Victoria letting her hair down. mmmmmmmmmm...
H: hottt. even her coat was kind of hot.
PW: yeah, and the leaves in her hair. she's been a naughty girl, rolling on the ground
H: such a bad, bad girl.
PW: even her name is hott
H: Fever!
PW: now I want to sing to her. but she better not track any fucking leaves on my carpet. I just vacuumed in here
H: also? the second we saw the vampires, I think we both laughed like Nelson from SImpsons.
PW: I was surprised that vamps walk so slowly. I would have thought the opposite to be true.
H: they got nothin but time.
PW: true. I think that whoever tweezed Bella and Edward's eyebrows should be flogged within an inch of their life
H: he wasn't wearing groucho marx glasses... but it felt like he was...
PW: HA! well, I think we've run this movie into the ground. any parting thoughts?
H: under no circumstances will we see part 2 sober.
PW: agreed.
Posted at 08:58 AM | Comments (2)November 25, 2008
Heather & I Anticipate "Twilight" via I.M.
H: I have been so awesomely busy today, I wasn't even aware that time passed until 4. and now it's almost 5~!
PW: YAY! txt me when you're 10 min. away from Cumberland, and I'll leave right away
H: between 635-650
PW: oh damn. long fucking commute!
H: fucking CTA!
PW: douchebags mother fuckers!
H: yeah! sweary swear swear!
PW: ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! I'm soooooooooooooooooo excited about this movie!
H: me too.
PW: like HSM without the music!
H: that should have been the campaign
PW: "Twilight. Twice the emo, none of the music."
H: HA! But no Lucas Gabreel
PW: Theres a hot, shirtless, blond guy in the previews. James, the hunter vampier who wnats to kill Bella, and really, who could blame him?
H: oh right! I was thinking he was a werewolf, for some reason, didn't put a name to him...
PW: Jacob is the Indian werewolf, and frankly, I'm totally Team Jacob
H: me too.
PW: edward has zero personality
H: because he is SOOOO BEAUTIFUL, supposedly.
PW: whatev. my dog is beautiful. I still wouldn't fuck her
H: hahahahaha
PW: altho I have, on occassion, tongue-kissed her. but totally on accident
H: of course. dog-necker.
PW: my nails are black and sparkly -- like TWILIGHT!!!
H: Nice! I am thinkign of looking for a charcoal nail polish - something about grey appeals to me...
PW: oooooooh, and it's very hott this season!
H: I will call when I am 10 min from cumberland.
PW: awesome! so excited!
H: me too!
PW: ANGST!!!!!!!!!!!
H: abstinence!
PW: androgeny!
H: and a theatre full of teenagers who will hate us!
PW: YAY!
Posted at 11:35 AM | Comments (1)November 24, 2008
Beatrix Cops an Attitude
I have a standing lunch date with Beatrix on Wednesdays. Normally, I plan ahead so that moths don't escape when I turn my pockets inside-out. But last week, I had to send her this email:
Lunch today? I have 3 dollars to my name.
This is what she wrote back:
Your options are...1. Stand outside the window and watch me eat my lunch.
2. Purchase only what you can afford.
3. Maybe you can convince someone to share their lunch with you.
4. I will buy this time you buy next time or how about a loan. (This is the one I recommend).
Everybody's a comedian. I made her buy me lunch, as punishment for getting sassy.
Posted at 11:15 AM | Comments (0)November 20, 2008
"America's Next Top Model Is..."
Previously on ANTM, Wenchie started to loose interest in the whole franchise, so much so that she actually missed two episodes and had to lure Shannon into some illegal gambling in order to make things interesting.
Did we know that McKey is from Lake Forest, IL? Go fellow-Chicago-suburbian! She lives twenty miles from my house. I thought she looked familiar...
We get a recap of the three remaining girls' pros and cons. And I'm not listing them here. If you don't know them by now, then you are of no concern to me.
Tyra Mail! There's some nonsense words that apparently mean "easy, breezy, beautiful" in Dutch. Yay! The girls get to be whores for Cover Girl! A commercial and a print ad! The print ad will be, for the winner, a national print ad, a billboard in Times Square, and a display in WalMarts all across the country.
But wait -- there's a catch! The catch is that they have to memorize their scripts, and their first line is in Dutch! Hee! They are SO gonna suck!
Whitney! Whitney walks in, and I feel bad that Husband is working late and doesn't see her. Amazingly, she's been famous for a few months and hasn't yet starved herself into a size zero. Go, Whitney!
The crappy Cover Girl goo that the girls will be shilling for is WetSlicks Amazemint Lip Gloss with Crest Peppermint Oil. It shines your lips, freshens your breath, whitens your teeth and balances your checkbook! Jesus H. Kissable Christ, it comes in BLUE. Well, now I know what to get Heather for Christmas.
The "plot" of the commercial is this: there are three girls on vacation together. They meet a boy on a boat. They all throw themselves at him, and one slut ends up ditching her cock-blocking friends to make-out with him.
Jay says that Sam is holding back during her shoot. And I think he's right. She's holding back... her lunch. Seriously, she's so nervous, I think she's gonna blow chow.
McKey sounds good, but her head... it looks like she has Parkinson's, she's wobbling around so much. Advice to McKey: Channelling famous actress = good. Channelling 80 year old Kathryn Hepburn = not good.
Analeigh froze. Absolutely froze. Not a thought in that head. Crickets chirping. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Nyet.
Oh, and? They guy they have to kiss is quite homely. His eyes are too far apart, and he has bad hair.
Now, for the Cover Girl print ad, they have Jim DeYonker, who is, apparently, Cover Girl's staple photographer. Whoop-dee-shit. As a final test, Jay leaves the set and won't be there to give them direction. Actually, that should make them less nervous. Jay is a cruel mistress.
"McKey is coo-coo in the head," reports DeYonker. Sam struggles, and Analeigh's body is good, but she's crap from the neck up.
Tyra Mail! Judging! Some guy with a 57-letter name is the guest judge because he's the designer in whose show the Final Two will be walking.
They watch each girl's best take. Sam is choppy. Analeigh is gorgeous but sucks. McKey's personality drags her sorry ass into Not-Awful-Land.
As for photos, the judges are split on Samantha's. Some say adorable, some say forced.
Analeigh's photo... man, she really has wrinkley bags under her eyes. More so than me, and I'm old enough to be her mother! Couldn't they photoshop that shit outta there?
McKey looks a big like a young Marie Osmond, if you ask me, which they do not. But she "looks like a model."
Deliberations!
Sam has a great personality, great smile and great photos, but they're not sure about her walk. Analeigh's legs are bionic, as is her walk, but she needs a bag over her face. McKey listens to direction and has learned a lot, but there's a certain "Lerch" quality to her, a la Addams Family.
The girls come back into the room, all looking like they're gonna start bawling. McKey gets called first, and Sam and Ana are called forward. Ana has the strongest poses but a weak face. Sam looks commercial in person but she can't sell Cover Girl. What's a Tyra to do?
Tyra calls Sam and admonishes her not to look so teen-at-the-mall in person. Analeigh manages to hold herself together and gets a very encouraging pep-talk from Tyra and Paulina, possibly the nicest one to date. Ana has "no regrets. Regrets are mistakes that you don't learn from, and I've learned so much." Did they write that for her?
While she backs, Sam and McKey go shoot their Seventeen-magazine-covers-to-be-maybe. Sam squeals, "It's so me! I was seventeen three months ago!"
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Jay as designed a ridiculous runway for the girls' final challenge. The Dutch Runway Show. It's hot pink with stairs and curves -- it's like Shoots 'n' Ladders meets Candyland.
Samantha is super-nervous. Huh, Sam is the new Marj. McKey is all, "Well, once this is over, it's in the judges' hands." Tyra hugs them and tells them to "make Mama proud. Your black mama." Yeah, ya know, Tyra hasn't had a woman of color in the Final Two for two seasons now. Is Tyra a hater?
At the beginning of the show, before the actual fashion begins, Miss J walk the runway with... oh, it's so Cirque de So-Gay. There's a man on a leash, and his head is inside a giant, hot pink balloon.
Oooh, Whitney looks hott! McKey looks stiff. Hey, is that Amanda the legally blind chick from several seasons ago?! Samantha looks pretty good.
The gowns are freakin' FABULOUS! The Barbies are drooling.
Panel! Oh, God, Tyra? Joan Collins called. She wants her dress back. Miss J's lashes deserve a standing ovation.
When McKey took the runway, Tyra says that she liked her first turn, and loved the second. But McKey needs more grace in heels. Heh. Don't we all.
Sam's runway was fantastic, and she really worked the garmet. But her mouth looked very worried.
They then go through the girls' entire portfolios, and I just don't have the energy. My dinner just came outta the oven, so I wanna wrap this up.
Deliberations!
Sam looks commercial in person but is actually high fashion. McKey has star quality but a bad walk. Sam has the poses, but McKey has the high-fashion body. They're both tall, both have "line-backer-ish" bodies, both are sweet. Blah blah blah.
The girls re-enter, fighting tears. "America's Next Top Model is..." And McKey's photo pops up on the screen. My first reaction is, Hey, I get ten bucks!
Bonus Mini-Review of McKey's Post-Win Portfolio:
She looks stupid with her hair slicked back. I kinda love this dress, but it would look better on Heather. Why do the Tyra&Winner photos always look like they're on completely different sets on different days and photoshopped together?
And for even more bonus-y goodness, the ladies at Go Fug Yourself delightfully fug Tyra and the Final Three.
Posted at 06:39 PM | Comments (3)November 19, 2008
"Good Times & Windmills"
I was out for a mutual-birthday dinner with Joe last Wednesday. Sometimes, it's a real curse being so popular. Once again, Television Without Pity saves my ass. Or rather, replaces it. You can read the ANTM recap from last week here, which is what I'm doing today at work.
It seems, 'though, that little Marjorie finally scared herself right out of the competition. Which is a shame because she's actually a damn good model.
It's also a shame -- for Shannon -- because now there's no way she's getting ten bucks off me. I'm still in the running, but I only get two Starbucks Peppermint Mocha Lattes off her if McKey is the last one left standing.
We'll see this evening! And I WILL be watching and recapping! And so will Husband! He's rooting for Samantha. Pfft. As if.
Oh, and if you're prone to morbid curiosity, here are the girls' photos from last week: Analeigh, Marjorie, McKey and Samantha. Personally, I think they all look like ass. Enjoy!
Posted at 09:18 AM | Comments (1)November 13, 2008
Oh, Miss?
Is there anyone worse than a waitress trainee?
Well, there probably is. Like people who commit genocide or drive under the speed limit. But when you're hungry, a waitress with her head up her butt quickly moves up the list to near-Hitler status.
I knew she was new when I saw her "uniform." The uniform for wait staff at this particular establishment is a white, button-down shirt and black dress pants.
Our waitress was wearing a white t-shirt over a Beatles t-shirt, and black velour track pants. So, basically, she wore to work what my step daughter wears to sleep in. I can't even find it in my heart to forgive a fellow Beatles fan -- she was that skanky.
I can only assume that it was her first day at work, and she'd hadn't time to buy the appropriate clothes. That's the only reason I could excuse her employer for letting her dress that way. I mean, if I want to eat in that kind of atmousphere, I'll stay home, throw on some sweats and eat cereal, standing up, over the sink.
First, it took her forever to come to our table. She got our drink order right, but the owner had to serve the saganaki that Sue and I had ordered. Granted, it involves fire, but when I waited tables, I could to three at a time, balanced on one arm. Half a glass of brandy, one swipe of the lighter, and half a lemon. Viola!
Halfway through devouring melty, melty cheese, Sue and I placed our orders. I got a hot dog. Seriously, they have those all-beef, Kosher hot dogs. God bless the Jews. Sue ordered "a grilled chicken salad sandwich."
Sue said that she enjoys chicken salad when she's out because it's one of the few things that she's too lazy to make for herself at home. So she was excited to see a cheese-topped chicken salad melt on the menu.
Half a life-time later, the waitress brought out my dog and... a salad with some diced chicken on top.
Uh...
Trixie?
This isn't what Sue ordered.
Apparently, she hadn't heard the SANDWICH part of the order.
Sue: I guess I should've known something was wrong when she didn't ask me if I wanted fries or cole slaw, but she remembered to ask you.
PW: And yet, she didn't ask you what kind of dressing you wanted -- which would have tipped you off -- so I don't think her moments of clarity are at all consistent.
Sue: Yeah.
PW: Have some of my fries while you wait.
So I was unspeakably rude and started eating my hot dog in front of Sue because I didn't want it to get cold. Ten minutes later, Trixie came back and set down on front of Sue... a grilled chicken breast sandwich.
Not a grilled chicken salad sandwich. A grilled chicken breast sandwich. So she got the sandwich part, but forgot the salad part.
Our eyes met across the table, but Sue graciously waited for Trixie to leave before speaking.
Sue: This isn't what I ordered, either.
PW: I know.
Sue: Did I order wrong?
PW: I heard you say grilled chicken salad sammich. I certainly would have remembered you saying breast.
Sue: Maybe I should have said melted. Was I supposed to say melted? I'm pretty sure I was clear.
PW: I knew what you were talking about. I'm guessing that she's not familiar with the menu.
Sue: Well, I'm going to eat it because I'm starving.
PW: Awwww, we'll give her a shitty tip, honey.
And we did.
Posted at 04:00 PM | Comments (1)November 10, 2008
The Ghost of Christmas Present
My annual, multi-family garage sale has now become something of a tradition. It's nice because every participant has their own focus, so there's a huge variety of stuff.
Dad brings antiques and weaponry; Jerry's Mom rids her closet of last year's couture clothing and accessories; Snippy Bitch brings crafts and crafting supplies; Garrance is all about the Christmas decorations and back issues of magazines; and I rotate out some home decor to make room for new stuff.
I defy you to come and not find something you can't live without! (It'll be the Saturday after Memorial Day in 2009 -- mark your calendars!)
As is bound to happen, we often find ourselves shopping each other's tables, especially when there are no more of Garrance's magazines left to look through. And I just couldn't believe that Garrance was only asking five bucks for this!
Daisy: Holy mother of God, what is THAT???
Stella: Looks like Mom got a new tablecloth.
Daisy: Not that, you dimwit! The dead-eyed dwarf with the bag of small, dead animals!
Stella: Oh. I dunno.
Daisy: We must alert Mom to its presence! MOM! MOM! Bring your gun and holy water!
PW: What the hell is your problem?
Stella: Don't look at me. For once, I'm not the instigator.
Daisy: This ogre broke into our house! KILL HIM!!!
PW: It's a plastic Santa. Plastic!
Stella: Mom, how long until dinner?
Daisy: Oh, my God! It has Mom under its spell! It's up to ME to save us all from certain dismemberment!
PW: You are the worst dog ever. Use your nose! Does it smell like a live being?
Stella: It smells like the garage.
Daisy: I'm not getting my nose anywhere near that thing! It's a threat to our very existance!
PW: Oh, I'll threaten your existance, all right. Now put down your back fur. You look ridiculous.
Stella: (lick) Tastes like the garage, too.
Daisy: How do you know what the garage ta-- Don't try to distract me! You're on its side!
Husband: Oh for Pete's sake. Just leave it where it is. She'll get used to it eventually.
November 07, 2008
It's All About My Hair
There are few people I hate -- and pity -- more than the people who work at the kiosks in the malls. What a crappy job that forces them to be so annoyingly intrusive.
Billi and I were at Hawthorne Mall when we were accosted by some guy holding a fancy-schmancy hair straightener. And I was forced to wonder, "Did this guy receive any training before starting this job?"
I mean, he's selling hair straighteners. And he approaches the two people with the most fabulously straight, glossy and perfect hair in the entire mall! What was he thinking?! Clearly, we have no need for his product! Go bother the chicks with the crappy hair, dude; we're on our way to Mrs. Field's.
Speaking of hair, I'm getting mine cut today at 4:15. Glory Hallelujiah! I think it's been about six months since I've gotten so much as a trim because I was so scarred by the whole Locks of Love Incident (as it came to be known).
But now my hair is all fuzzy, dry ends, and I need a trim, lest I be pursued by more hair-straightener-vendors. In fact, I've been thinking for the last month that I need a trim. But I keep putting off calling because I only think of it first thing in the morning, when they're not open. And by the time the salon is open, I'm going about my day and thinking of non-hair-related things. Like purses and lunch and civil rights (thanks to my new job for that little incongruence!).
So I finally called on Tuesday to make an appointment. And all of a sudden, because my hair overheard my plan to shorten it's ranks, I cannot abide my hair one teensy-tiny bit. It has made itself completely heavy and intolerable, and therefore, it has been banished to a ponytail 24/7.
What's that about? On Monday, my hair was fine. Pretty even. Tamable with a small barrette. But now that I know it will soon be looking amazing and healthy and Breck-girl-y, I cannot stand it's current state. I don't even want to look at it. I barely even finished drying it this morning before diving for the rubberbands.
So what changed in that moment before dialing the salon, and the moment after hanging up?
Absolutely nothing. I am a total smacktard. Here endeth the lesson.
Posted at 11:53 AM | Comments (1)November 06, 2008
"The Final Five"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," ...man, this intro is all about Tyra's hair. And boobs. And hair. But why is she pimping for "Stylista"?
Sam is giddy with glee that she is in the final five. Marjorie's cup, however, is half empty. Half empty with the blood of dead unicorns. That's how distressed she is.
Tyra Mail! Go-sees.
Some asshole Dutch people explain that the girls will be judged on:
1. Portfolio.
2. Runway walk.
3. General appearance.
4. Personality.
The girls must take boats to their go-sees and return by 5:00.
The first designer looks like an extra from the 80s video of "Mickey." Oh, Mickey, you're so fine, but Sam is too commercial. Too commercial for the cheerleader broad, who wouldn't book her.
Oh, McKey, you're so fine and stunning and great. Which reminds me! This competition is FINALLY interesting, now that Shannon and I have laid down some serious bucks -- she on Marj, and I on McKey. Anyone else wanna pick a ho and drop your ten bucks into the pool?
Sam gets lost. So do Ana and Marj (I am so not typing their full names anymore). And them Amsterdamians won't help them with directions! Won't even give them the time of day! Geez, what dicksmacks they are. Remind me to skip Holland on my World Tour '09.
Ana impresses one designer in a fabulous black dress. Elina grosses out another designer by getting back-sweat all over his expensive gown. He says of her, "She's playing at being a model and isn't a model."
Marj finally becomes unlost enough to make it to see the Cheerleader, but she does poorly. Elina is there, too, and Cheerleader tells her that she has too many tattoos.
Interviews Elina, "Tattoos are the best way I know to express myself." Wow. Sad. What about music or painting or writing? Or having an emotion? Or cutting yourself? She feels like it's a personal attack. Which it is. I mean, she's the retard who made the decision to write all over her body.
Some designer guy wants McKey for his show. Ana shows up where Elina is and has to wait. But Elina's not exactly a tough act to follow. The designer loves Ana. Meanwhile, says Hans to Marj, "Okay. We've seen enough." Ouch. Jesus, that girl's ribcage is, like, Scarlett O'Hara tiny.
Frazzled and beaten down, Marj returns to home base way early, having been to only two of the five designers. All the rest get back in time, except for McKey, who is only five minutes late, but is disqualified because of it.
Male Dutch Asshole says he's disappointed and then stares at her like the Disapproving Father From Hell. Female Dutch Asshole says she would have won because all the clients love her.
Sam is too commercial. Elina's tattoos are a problem for several of the clients. Marj was too nervous. The clients love Ana's hair and thought she was great, although perhaps trying a little too hard.
All of the designers provided items for the challenge prize-winner, totaling $18,000. Or $47.36, if you'd bought the same crap at Target. Ana is the winner! Among the prize items are a fur coat, a white gown and a green bathing suit.
Elina is bitter and thinks that she should have won. Even though her tattoos mark her as mentally disturbed and her personality is sociopathic at best.
Tyra Mail! Blah blah exposed. The girls are afraid they're going to be posing naked. But that's not likely because we all know that it's Tyra, not Nigel, who is the guest photographer this week.
You know, if I make mention of every time that Marj is stressed out and fearful, this recap will be twice as long. So let's just assume that she is always freaking out, unless I say otherwise.
Tyra is at the shoot with her camera. This can only mean one thing -- black and white photography. Because it's all she knows how to do. She's going to do two shots of each of them -- one clean-faced, and one glammed up. Sam is relieved that she won't have to get naked.
Sam's clean shot looks like lesbian, androginous Kim from a previous season. It's kinda cute! Her glam shots are very theatrical. Tyra and Jay mock Miss J's screaming. I don't know why.
Marj is intimidated by Tyra. You know, I think Marjorie would be intimidated by snow. Tyra says that Marj's hair is like fur, so after her clean shot, they cut it even shorter. She's so "Rosemary's Baby." It's fabulous, and she totally works the glam shot.
After Ana's clean shot, Tyra comments, "I think she needs make-up." Clearly.
And when Elina is done getting her idiotic tattoos lasered off, she can cut her nails because Tyra hates them and tells her she can't model with long nails. Then Tyra tricks stiff, controlled Elina into a few good shots.
McKey is up next with her "Clockwork Orange" eyes. Says Jay, "That girl, she can model!" Tyra and Jay are adorable goofing around together. Are the rumors true? Do they really hate each other? I love him so much more than Miss J, and he contributes more than anyone else on panel! Fucking Tyra.
Panel! Ooh, Jay is the guest judge! Awesome!
Sam booked two jobs at the go-sees. Well, I guess she won't starve to death. Her clean photo looks like a Calvin Klein ad. They love her, and Sam made Tyra excited to shoot her glam photo.
Analeigh booked three of out of the three designers she saw. Her clean photo is bad. Hey, her jeans are unbuttoned! But the judges die over her legs in her glam photo.
Marjorie booked ZERO of the two go-sees she went on. Loser. For her clean photo, Tyra used her test shot because it was the best. I think she looks like a teenaged boy first thing in the morning. But her glam photo is "strong! Sharp! Cunning!" The judges want to get that girl standing in front of them. Asks Miss J, "Are any of your limbs attached?"
Clean shots, glam shots -- where's the money shot?
Elina only booked two of the four designers she saw because of her tattoos. Her clean shot is okay. Except that she looks like she's about to scratch somebody's eyes out. Her glam shot is okay, too. Tyra told her to be crazy, so she... put her leg up on the railing. It's not so much crazy as it is awkward. Jeebus, she's only EIGHTEEN?!?! I thought she was, like, THIRTY! She's the oldest eighteen year old EVER!
McKey reigns supreme with four out of four go-sees booked. Woot! But she was late, so she sucks. Her clean shot is all neck and jawline and lickable. In her glam shot, she proves that she has come so far from the boxing girl who couldn't pose without making fists.
Deliberations!
Sam blows Nigel... away. Ana's a dream, but her features are kinda big. Marj is a nervous wreck. McKey embodies true fashion. Elina doesn't look eightteen and doesn't inspire.
Tyra calls the girls in the exact order that Husband predicts -- Sam, McKey and Analeigh, leaving Elina and Marjorie in the Bottom Two.
Elina is beautiful but holds on too tightly, and it diminishes her beauty. Marj is exquisite, but her nerves stand in her way. So who gets kicked to the curb?
Blessedly, it is Elina who is kicked and Marj who hangs on for another week. Probably only to be eliminated next week.
Next episode: The girls pass around a man-whore! YAY!
Posted at 05:14 PM | Comments (2)November 05, 2008
"Planes, Trains and Slow Automobiles"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Wenchie fell asleep at the wheel and ran aground on a sandbar, Elina attacked Samantha, Sheena… “hal he bock” (I can’t read my writing), the girls pretty much sucked on the commercial, Joslyn went home, and TWoP saved my ass.
The girls interview that, basically, the whole house would prefer that Elina had gone home instead of Joslyn. You and America, ladies. Who, by the way, call themselves the “Super-Sexy Six.”
Daphne Decker, who is the host of “Holland’s Next Top Model” (who knew?), meets the girls and tells them that they have to divide into couples and race to find their new house first. The couples are: Elina and Samantha, Analeigh and Marjorie, and Sheena and McKey. Samantha is not happy about being paired with Elina. Even more mystifying is why Elina chose her, after their tiff last week.
Sheena confesses that she came to Amsterdam “expecting weed and sex, but I found gorgeous!”
Elina wore sandals that she can’t run in and are blistering her feet. Who doesn’t wear comfy shoes when they know they are going to be traveling? I mean, hell, I wear hiking boots and carry a compass and canteen when I know I’m gonna have to be navigating O’Hare.
But despite Elina’s unpreparedness, she and Samantha win. Lucky for Elina, too, or Sam would’ve killed her. Samantha is weirded out by Elina’s sudden attempt's bonding.
Their new home is all raw wood and fabulousness. These bitches don’t deserve a house so cool. They should all be living together in a van down by the river.
Tyra Mail! “Something-something used to play, something-something hot today.” Huh.
Oh. My. God. I have been waiting my whole ANTM career for this. Analeigh, Elina and Marjorie are all taking a bath together. N-A-K-E-D-!!! And loudly. There’s much blurring of privates going on. It’s so awesome. How come my friends never take baths with me? You guys suck.
The other girls are trying to sleep. McKey confesses that she’s “frustrated with the va-jay-jay shaving party.” OH MY GOD!!! This episode just keeps getting better and better! McKey just say VA-JAY-JAY!!! I can die now. Seriously. Everything after this is just going to be a let-down.
Also? For my 40th birthday next year, I was going to have an 80s Dance Party. But McKey has inspired me to, instead, have a Va-Jay-Jay Shaving Party. I’ll supply the cake, razors and shaving cream -- BYOVJJ.
Aaaaaand scene.
The girls are taken to an alley in Amsterdam’s red light district, where they all feel right at home. The Js are there babbling about “Red Light Fashion Amsterdam,” which is some project where designers are fighting prostitution with couture, turning brothels into boutiques. So just... a different kind of whoring. Okay.
The girls are broken into couples again – Analeigh and Elina, McKey and Samantha, Marjorie and Sheena – and meet their designers. McKey and Sam will be modeling in a dollhouse atmosphere. Because that’s not porno. Elina and Ana will be modeling gowns that are jackets. Ack. And Sheena and Marjorie will be freaky. The winners will walk in a show during Amsterdam Fashion Week.
Marjorie is Absolutely Fabulous, but Sheena is too sexy. Samantha is better than McKey, but they hold hands and work together as a team. Elina is elegant, but Analeigh gets tangled in the set. Sam and McKey win, even though Marj was clearly the stand-out. Stupid Sheena.
Tyra Mail! There’s a shoot tomorrow.
Elina shoots off her ignorant mouth again and thinks that prostitution should be respected. So… it’s wrong to eat delicious animals, but it’s okay to treat female human beings like meat. I get it. Predictably, the other girls don’t agree. I think Elina just picks fights for a giggle.
I go to the bathroom, and when I get back, the girls are on a boat. Oh, for their shoot. Got it. McKey comes out in a black gown and HUGE, black boots, and Jay tells her, “You look like a monster,” because she’s about a foot taller than him, and he has height-envy. McKey gets very creative with her posing, and Jay is excited that she continues to improve.
Sheena, on the other hand, continues to be hootchie and does can-can kicks in her gown. And then she straddles a big pole. Remarks Jay, “She always finds the most lewd pose to do.” Jay gives her direction, but she’s so focused on listening to her inner-ghetto that she doesn’t hear him.
McKey asides that Elina is “ugly from the inside out,” and the girls take turns talking about all the ways in which Elina is ugly.
Oh my. Are those… Analeigh’s nipples? Showing through her dress? She says that she’s not going to be a skater because, every time she tries to bring her skating experience to a shoot, she sucks ass. Jay comments that he’s glad she finally brought the skater to the shoot. *sigh* Good grief.
Marjorie takes Jay’s constructive criticism as exactly that and doesn’t internalize it. She’s learning!
Tyra Mail! Judging!
Elina tells Sheena that she had a dream that the two of them were crying. Jeebus, Elina is so damn emo. Go write your pain on your arm, Elina.
Panel!
Elina has claw-hands in her photo. She looks like a pirate, but not good-pirate. She is stiff, and Jay sent a note to the principal that she ignored him during the shoot.
Sheena has a pretty face (?????), and the clothes look pretty, but there’s no passion in her photo.
Analeigh is beautiful. Piratey-beautiful.
McKey shows up to panel wearing some chain mail thing that she bought at the Ren Fair, and Tyra digs it. Her photo is a fantastic fashion shot.
Marjorie, well, there just aren’t superlatives enough for her, are there?
Sam shows up in an outfit that makes the panel think she’s going to pick up her kids from school. So Miss J takes off his jeans and throws them at her. Yeah, and Sheena is the hootchie one. But Sam’s photo is fantastic. Now that’s a pirate!
By the way, Tyra, you are a dear for giving me so many shout-outs the day before my birthday. Love you! Kiss kiss!
Deliberations!
Elina gave them her best photo yet, but it’s still not good enough. Sheena’s photo has no life because she can’t find the middle area between hootchie and flat-lining.
McKey’s legs go on for miles. Analeigh’s shot is great, and she keeps improving.
Marjorie keeps using her signature posing, which they love. She is “Bambi but turns into that on film!” Sam gives a great photo but is a bad dresser.
The judges have reached a decision! Tyra calls McKey first, to be this week’s digitart. Then calls – Analeigh, Marjorie and Samantha. This leaves Elina and Sheena in the Bottom Two, where they belong. Any chance Tyra will do a surprise double-elimination? It’s kind of creepy that they’re together and crying, just like El-emo’s dream. They hold hands.
Elina takes a pretty photo, but she’s too stiff and reluctant to lose control. Sheena is full of personality, but there’s no consistency in her photos. To my shock and horror, Elina is called, which makes no sense because Tyra HATES the emotionally repressed. Well, maybe she just wants another chance to make Elina cry. And who can blame her, really?
Sheena is sad, but Tyra tells her that she has “It” and won’t be forgotten. Bitch, please, she’s no Jade. Jade will never be forgotten, but Sheena is as memorable as every other girl who was the seventh one eliminated. Which is to say – not at all.
Next episode: Tyra is the girls’ photographer, and the girls go on go-sees.
Posted at 05:24 PM | Comments (1)November 01, 2008
"Now You See Me, Now You Don't"
Previously on "America's Next Top Model," there was much redundancy as I recapped a recap episode.
And I committed the Cardinal Sin of missing -- actually MISSING an episode!!! I rend my garmets! I cut my hair! I eat ash! I throw myself on the ground before you!
So you're just going to have to read the Television Without Pity recap like I did.
BUT! Don't think for a minute that TWoP can replace me! I mean, cripes, if you think my recaps are long...!
Oh, and here are the candid photos for the episode, if you're so inclined, including photos of the girls modeling glossy, yellow shoes that no one in Holland would ever be caught dead wearing.
Posted at 09:48 AM | Comments (1)