October 13, 2006

"The Girl Who Joined the Circus"

Previously on "America's Next Top Model," Monique was a bitch, was struck down by God with the plague, and got eliminated. Watch and learn, kiddies. It's a little thing called karma.

Amanada interviews that "justice is served." And Melrose expresses "relief." I hope Monique's mother watched this episode. In fact, I hope she watched all of them. I wonder what she thinks of her princess on the throne wiping her skeevy undies all over the place?

Okay, enough obsessing on her. We will never understand her, and I refuse to give her any more blog space. She is dead to me.

The girls are playing that old womens' prison movie favorite -- How Many Girls Can We Fit In the Shower? Oh. My. God. I just can't say enough good things about this.

Also? Who's idea was it to put a group shower stall in the house? Tyra's? Nigel's? Those cheeky monkeys!

Too bad we don't get to see them washing each other's hair.

Of course, they all feel so naughty, so there's much shrieking and cackling echoing off the tile walls. Mel comes in and asks them to be quiet so she can get three hours of sleep -- what the hell? They are group-showering at three o'clock in the morning?!

Okay, I totally see Mel's point here, as much as I hate to admit it. But Megg calls her a bitch, and Brooke calls her Little Miss Know It All. Hee!

To be fair, Mel is completely in the right here. Three a.m. is for sleeping, and it's not unreasonable to expect people to keep their voices down. However, I think the girls would be much more likely to cooperate were Mel not such an intolerable bitch at every other hour of the day, so she really dug her own grave here.

Jaeda interviews that she feels like a boy and that people on the street don't know if she's a boyish girl or a girlish boy. Well, then, throw some make-up on, idiot!

Anchal interviews that she is "the voluptuous girl in the house," and she's used to "having to live with it." Yeah, girl has got a rack. Then she says she's "used to hearing crap about me." Ooh! Spoiler!

Tyra Mail! "Don't get it twisted!" Oh, geez, who was that crazy, stupid broad who said that? Was it Furonda? I can't believe Tyra quoted her, whoever she was. Anyway, something about "bend over backwards," which I guess is better than the usual bend over and grab your ankles.

And we meet Stacey McKenzie, some fugly model who is a judge on "Canada's Next Top Model." There's a "Canada's Next Top Model?!" Holy shit! What channel is that on? Is Tyra on it? Must Google...

Awesome! It looks like they're in between seasons now, but I plan to keep my eye on this, see if Canadian bitches are any crazier than American bitches.

Anyhoo, some guy who is made of rubber and clearly not human shows them the basics of "extreme editorial poses." Just when I think I know all there is about modeling, that Tyra opens up a whole new aspect for me. God bless that woman.

Mel does yoga -- oh, of course, she does -- so she's all confident that she'll be the best and blah blah blah. But Anchal surprises -- and grosses out -- all of us by walking on the top of her own head. Weird.

Mel, the new Black Chick Who Everyone Hates But Isn't Black, is quite put out by this and retaliates by, basically, calling Anchal fat, to her face, in front of everyone. Oh, sure, she thinly veils it as concern for Anchal's lack of exercise, but I doubt Anchal's resting heart rate is keeping Mel up at night. To her credit, Anchal shuts her down and walks away.

Then comes the drama we've all been waiting for!

Not content with merely calling Anchal fat, Mel has to sit in the jacuzzi with Jaeda and the twins and rag on her. Mel's problem with Anchal is that Anchal says she doesn't think of herself as pretty, but Mel thinks that's a total act, and Anchal knows she's pretty.

I'm sure no one gives a crap what Anchal really thinks of herself because at least she doesn't run her damn mouth 24/7. The twins are silent and kind of look uncomfortable, like, You know, all we wanted was a nice soak. Jaeda sort of defends Anchal by saying she's incredibly beautiful, but I guess this could also back-up Mel's argument, so I'm not sure what to think.

Except to think that they're retarded to talk smack about ANYONE in front of a dozen cameras. Haven't they seen any of the past shows? Do they think they're gonna come out smelling like roses? Don't they know how the writers love to assign and exploit a House Bitch?

And for the record, when someone spends their formative years ugly, then grows up to be beautiful, it's a well-known fact that they often have a very difficult time accepting their beauty. It's called the Ugly Duckling Syndrome.

Anchal and the others overhear all of this, and Anchal starts bawling.

A.J. immediately starts to comfort her and hug her, "They're the fake ones. They don't matter. We got your back." We being her and Megg, I guess, who is there, too. And is anyone surprised that the emo chick is all over the drama?

The girls are whisked away to dinner at the Oasis with special guest, Twiggy. Who... wears sunglasses all through dinner. Huh. I wouldn't have pegged Twiggy for that level of pretentiousness, but whatever. I still like her.

She talks to the girls about how the styles of poses have changed over the years. Which, really, can that be more than a 30 second conversation? Sheesh.

Caridee and Michelle interview that all the girls thought Melrose was totally sucking up to Twiggy, and that she sucks up to everyone (who isn't competing against her).

Tyra Mail! Tyra calls them "catty bitches," and some of the girls laugh nervously. But then she says something about "knocking her off her pedestal," and I start to wonder if she's watching the dailies.

But no, the girls have to do extreme editorial poses on pedestals for some fashion show. Speaking of pretentious! Someone named Bao describes her collection as "decadent." And Erica Courtney brings out 10 pieces of jewelry totalling $32,000. The girls have to pair a piece of jewelry with an outfit blah blah blah.

Bao wants them to look like fairy divas or diva fairies or something. Picture Elton John.

The poses are weird. I honestly can't tell who's good and who's not. But Eugena is the winner and will be taking home the $32,000 worth of jewelry. DAMN! Good prize! And she doesn't even have to share it!

Oh, Christ, will Mel ever shut up? She blah blah blahs with excuses and lectures and OHMYGODSHUTUPALREADY! Can she not read the body language of the other girls? They couldn't be more obviously done with her if they were holding up signs!

Thank God it's time for the girls to have a heart-to-heart with Tyra because she's sure to straighten all this out.

Anchal confesses that she heard Mel talking smack about her, and Mel doesn't even have the good sense to look remorseful. Bitch. I mean, when I get caught talking smack, at least I have the decency to feel like crap.

Jaeda stupidly backs Mel up and says that Anchal is fake and knows she's pretty. And again -- WHAT THE HELL DOES ANYONE CARE?!

Mel is flippant through the whole thing, and Tyra encourages Anchal to stand up for herself. God, I wish Janice had been there. She would have tackled Mel to the ground, bitched her out for ragging on her "sister," and then spit on her prone body and walked away. Tyra sucks.

Mel interviews that feels like she's "singled out as the mean one." Well, duh.

Tyra Mail! Something about "freaks of nature." She's got them pegged.

The shoot is in the middle of the desert, two hours away from their house at a circus. Awe. Some. The girls will be dressed up like freak show attractions for a dark and moody shoot. (Please let Mel be the fat lady.)

Now, I admit, it's been a long time since I've been to the circus or seen a good freak show (besides Thanksgiving), but these freak show "stereotypes" aren't really ringing a bell. As cool as the premise is, I think they fell short with the freakiness.

Here's the breakdown...

Megg: bearded lady

Jaeda: strong woman (which I'm sure did nothing for her tranny insecurities)

A.J.: cannibal

Caridee: elephant woman (she's not an animal!)

Brooke: rubber girl

Melrose: old lady face with hot body

Michelle & Amanda: Siamese twins, joined at the forehead (and they actually say Siamese twins, not conjoined twins, like Tyra wouldn't jump all over my ass for saying black instead of African-American)

Eugena: bird lady

Anchal: giant lady

Everyone confused now? Good. Because the editor of Seventeen magazine is there, too. To watch.

Anchal, Mel and A.J. all do awesome, which is really going to piss Mel off some more.

Afterwards, Megg and A.J. both cry and talk about how worried they are about their performances. Jaeda feels like she's going home.

There's a photo of Tyra as a ring leader (and really -- could there be a more apt metaphor?), and we're into judging. The Seventeen editor is there as the guest judge.

A.J. is strong with good energy and intensity.

Eugena looks best when she makes eye contact.

Brooke's lovely body language made for a haunting photo.

Michelle and Amanda have to practice not having the light hit their chin in a weird way, but the judges love their legs.

Anchal took a beautiful photo, but she doesn't look like a giant.

Jaeda's face is snarly, she needed too much coaching, and her poses look like bad acting.

Melrose looks wrinkled but hot, disturbing but good.

Megg looks like she's waiting to start. She cries and says that she's worried, and it comes out in her face. She's disappointed in herself. Tyra loves a good cry and self-realization, so she and Nigel offer comforting but hollow words.

Caridee wasn't inhibited by her nose.

In deliberations, the judges are down on Jaeda but up on Caridee. Twiggy thinks that Jaeda's airbrushed abs are real. Oh, Twiggy.

Jaeda and Megg are the final two. They look pissed and scared, respectively. ...or maybe that's just how they normally look?

What it comes down to is that Megg has the personality but looks like ass in photos, and Jaeda is gorgeous but retarded. So we all know how this is going to end. Jaeda stays, Megg goes home.

WOOOOOOOOOOO! ROCK 'N' ROOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

That was for you, Megg. We'll miss you. You were just beginning to not annoy me with your mere presence on screen, and we'll always remember your Blossom-y smile.

A.J. is visibly bummed. Megg thanks Tyra for the opportunity and hugs her. Very sweet and classy. There's lots of crying and hugging among the girls, and I'm thinking that Megg was more well-liked than we were shown. Well, well-liked doesn't boost the ratings as much as bitchery.

Next week -- oh my God! Michelle confesses that she "might be gay," and really, where better to come out of the closet than in a house of straight girls on national television? God, I love this show. Also...

JANICE!!!

Oh, sweet mother of all that is good and righteous, Janice is back, looking impeccably groomed and pissed!

Posted at 12:54 PM | Comments (0)

October 06, 2006

"The Girls Who Go To Texas"

This episode should really be entitled, "The Girl Who Made My Husband Leap Off the Couch with Joyous Glee," as we shall see.

Previously... makeover drama, telephone-induced confrontation, blah blah blah.

We start out with some of the girls playing Mattress Stair Slide, and I'm just struck with the awesomeness of it. I mean, you're in this billion dollar house, away from adult supervision (camera men don't count) for probably the first time in your life -- what do you do? MATTRESS STAIR SLIDE!!! It's so adorable, and very Princess Diaries.

Jaeda is still moaning about her hair. Someone voiceovers that Monique or Eugene should have gone home because they're evil bitches and photograph like poop on toast.

Melrose interviews about her seething hatred for Monique, which is pretty much Mel's only redeeming quality, quite frankly. Pot? Kettle? She says Monique better "watch her step" because it's her "butt on the line," or some such nonsense that she's too much of a puss to ever really back up.

The girls go to some... place, and Miss J is there in a tu-tu. Brooke says, "Miss J is a royal mess," but with genuine affection. Tiny girl is growing on me.

The girls are there to learn posture and balance by walking a tightrope, specifically a half-inch-thick cable. There to help are a couple of circus performers. Well. There's something you don't see every day.

Okay, people, Monique is making me miss Jade from last season. I mean, at least when Jade was mad, she tried to be poetic about it and made up new words and was really quite hilarious. Whereas Monique is getting her material from the playground.

"Melrose thinks she's so perfect, and she's not."

*sigh*

Of course, this is because Mel does quite well on the tightrope, as do many other girls, while Monique does not. Fancy a snack, Monique? I have some sour grapes here!

Later, Mel is on the phone with her Mom and -- to the shock of no one -- Monique barges in and starts talking smack. Can't we get a clever bitch in this show? One whose insults go over the other girls' heads? Like -- who was that bulimic, medical student chick with the really short, dark hair? I really don't like that this show is already making me pine for The Ghost of Bitches Past.

Anyhoo, Mel reaches over and gently pushes the door more closed so that it touches Monique's shoulder. It's unsubtle, as hints go, but Monique acts like she CAN'T BELIEVE that someone is sick of her phone room antics.

And then she has to go incredulously tell all the other girls that Mel slammed the door on her. But the other girls aren't having it because they are not wearing helmets and drooling.

If I may weigh in on this issue, I don't hate bitches. In fact, I like a good bitch. A good bitch, mind you. Someone who embraces their bitchhood, executes a bitchy attack with aplomb and takes full credit for it afterwards. None of this passive-aggressive bullshit that you deny wide-eyed five minutes later.

Monique repeats her passive-aggressive bullshit later, when all the girls are asleep, and she's curling her hair in the bathroom with Eugene. (You know the only reason Monique and Eugene "like" each other is because all the other girls hate them both, so they have no choice.)

Monique takes the panties she had been wearing that day and rubs them on the bed Mel is sleeping in. Take my word for it -- this is not as hot as it sounds. Monique is not so much a princess on a throne as she is an animal in a den. God is so embarassed that he's her child.

Then Mon is back in the bathroom, "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, what else can I do to disgust them all." Or something to that effect. Meanwhile, Mel and Jaeda wake up and stare at each other in disbelief.

As news spreads of Monique's Worst Panty Raid Ever, the rest of the girls all interview that they are scared of Mon and scared of what she'll do next. Several of the girls are afraid she's going to physically hurt someone. Oh, if only.

Next morning, of course, Mon is trying to play it down like it was no big thing and who hasn't rubbed their used butt-floss on someone else's bed? We've all done it! Right?

Tyra Mail! Something about "your own line." This doesn't bode well. I hope, if they're going to be making clothes, Tyra at least has the presence of mind to supply them with safety scissors.

Wow. Miss J enters through a stone arch wearing what appears to be an oversized lampshade as a dress. Strapless, lots of petticoats. How is it that he manages to keep freaking me out? It's not like I'm a newbie to this show!

Also there? BRE! From a previous season! If you'll remember, she was the one who gained a lot of weight, and was kinda bitchy, but also damn funny, so I kind of liked her. Anyhoo, Miss J introduces her as one of the best walkers from previous shows. I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure she was the only alumni available at a moment's notice.

The girls have five minutes to get into gowns, heels and Mardi Gras masks, then walk a straight line on cobblestones. Lots o' bitches are gonna have sore ankles tomorrow, but not A.J., who wins.

The prize is a photo shoot in Texas, which seems random. Brooke desperately wants to be chose because they'll be in Austin, which is her hometown. But A.J. chooses Megg and Caridee instead, proving that she is, indeed, "different" because who the hell would rather spend all day with poser Megg instead of hilarious Brooke?

The three chosen ones are going to walk in some celebrity charity fashion show bullshit, hosted by Dennis Quaid, and I have to admit, I missed the next several minutes because my jaw was on the floor with the random appearance of Dennis Quaid. I'll explain.

I don't sleep well, so I've been known to occassionally abuse sleeping pills, Benedryl and Nyquil. And when I do, I always have sex dreams about guys I would never, ever in a million years share a taxi with, let alone a passionate, intimate act. For example -- Ashton Kusher, or whateverthefuck his name is.

Tuesday night, I'd had such a dream about Dennis Quaid. VERY DISTURBING! Why, oh why is it never Bruce? Or Christian? Or Joaquin? Why does my subconscious hate me so much? I just thank God it wasn't Randy Quaid because I'd had "Independence Day" on in the background before I went to bed.

So when Dennis Quaid, whom I haven't seen in a movie since... ever, suddenly showed up on my television less than 24 hours after dreaming about him, you can imagine how betrayed I felt by the entire universe.

But the universe made it up to me by smoting down Monique with some terrible illness, including fever and puking. We're even now, universe.

Ah! And I see in my notes that it's called "Dennis Quaid's Celebrity Fashion Weekend." And for the occassion, Dennis has chosen to sport Harrison Ford's wattle. Nice choice, Dennis.

Oh for the love of God. All the other models? Are from past seasons of "America's Next Top Model." There's... the ugly Asian chick and... wow, it doesn't say much about me that I was once so emotionally involved with the lives all so many very, very forgettable girls...

Hey, look! Something shiney!

Tyra Mail! Something about "walk the plank."

Now, Tyra, c'mon, you know these little shout-outs and hints are necessary. I love ya, baby! Just call me! Don't be intimidated! I'm really very humble and down-to-earth, once you get to know me.

Brooke disappoints me by being a good Christian and trying to give Monique what comfort she can. Monique finally goes to the hospital. Jesus, it's the stomach flu, princess. Suck it up and drink some ginger ale. Brooke might even move the t.v. into your bedroom for you.

At the hospital, they just give her some fluids via i.v. and send her home. So they can have the bed for someone who really needs it. Monique goes straight to the photo shoot, as do the girls who were in Texas, right from the airport.

But Mon doesn't last long. She whines to Jay that she's sick, and you can just imagine how very weary this makes Jay. He gives her the option of doing the shoot or having him call a car to take her home. She opts to go home and sleep, proving that her stupidity does not end with her assault on other peoples' beds.

The "plank" that the girls have to walk is a runway floating in a swimming pool. Tension is heightened by the designer himself warning the girls that the dresses are very fragile and would ruin very easily. Say, by being submerged in chlorinated water, perhaps?

But we are disappointed, and the only major falling done is by Caridee's boob, out of her blouse. Eugena slips and falls, too, but remains dry, and the sight of the little bit of blood on her leg isn't nearly as interesting as Caridee's pixilated titty. Someone voiceovers that it's "So Paris," and I pee laughing.

Photos are taken, models are coached on their walking, blah blah yawn. More boobies!

Tyra Mail! Judging.

We then get a glimpse of Monique reading her bible. I don't even recall what the point of this scene was because I'm so offended by her holding a holy book. I'm surprised her fingers aren't smoking. And that her lips aren't moving as she reads.

Has anyone else noticed that the biggest bitches on this show are usually the ones who profess to be the most religious/spiritual? Someone is missing the point. What would Jesus do, Monique? He wouldn't have wiped his crown of thorns on Peter's bedroll, that's for damn sure.

At judging, Tyra is again showing her solidarity with the pirate sistahs by wearing a smokin' grey suede bodice thingy. Hot! I don't know why she doesn't just call me.

The challenge is to walk with a bowl of fruit on your head.

The fruit fell off Brooke's head almost immediately, but she continued walking and smiles, "You make it work!" The judges whip out their spoons and eat her up.

As the judges tell Caridee everything that's wrong with her, she nods in agreement and mutters, "Yeah, I smell what you're steppin' in." The judges exchange bewildered looks, as do Daisy and I.

Monique goes before the judges with her excuse of missing the photo shoot because of illness and is read a lesson from the Book of Danielle, who was on her death bed, but went on to ride an elephant, rock a photo shoot and, ultimately, win the competition. SO THERE!

Deliberations: I don't remember anything except Miss J breaking into some sort of negro spiritual regarding one of the girls, and Tyra joining in, and the rest of them clapping and chanting. I can't even describe it -- it was so surreal.

Monique and Eugena are in the final two, and really, that's a win-win because even if Monique doesn't go home, her only friend does, so she's left alone, and karma wins again.

Husband, who had been watching on the small t.v. in his office, joined me in front of the big t.v. for the judging, saying, "I can't believe you got me hooked on another season." Oh, who are you kidding, honey? You love this shit.

Tyra hands Eugena her photo, and Husband and I literally jump off the couch, hands in the air, yelling, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, thank you, Jesus!" It's a beautiful moment.

Packing up her shit in the apartment, she bitterly interviews that it was all "a waste." And we didn't really expect anything else from her, did we? Well, I do expect some of the girls to find some of the belongings missing when they return to the house...

So, now that Monique is gone, who will rise to take her place as BCWEH? For as you know, Bitches are like Slayers -- when one dies, another must take her place. So sayeth the Lord.

Next week: Melrose tries to keep control in the house, and Anchal cries when she hears the other talking about her. And Wenchie is at the various Wisconsin Pumpkin Festivals until Tuesday.

Posted at 12:42 PM | Comments (2)

October 04, 2006

"The Girl Who Hates Her Hair"

Ohhhhhhhhhh, YEAH! Tyra's BACK, bay-bee! And her weave is bigger than ever!

I guess it's about damn time I review the second episode of "America's Next Top Model," considering the third one is on tonight. And I've entirely abandoned the idea of reviewing the first one -- a two-hour extravaganza! -- because I watched it on Billi's TiVo while wrangling The Boy Child & The Girl Child and cleaning her house, so I retain almost nothing, except for the fact that I really think Tyra has outdone herself with this season's Black Chick Who Everyone Hates (BCWEH).

(This just in: Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Frapuccino is the new heroin!)

I really think Ms. Banks could have come up with a better name for this episode. I mean, it was nice to be able to look forward to a dramatic sob-fest, as the makeover episodes always are, but serioulsy. "The Girl Who Hates Her Hair"? She's not even trying. What about "The Girl Who Made Jay Roll His Eyes So Hard He Fainted" or "The Black Chick Who Everyone Hates So Much You Know She'll Be Around For So Long That You'll Start To Secretly Love Her A Little Bit"?

Previously: In the hot tub, a few girls pronounce Melrose's tears "fake." (She was in the final two last week and narrowly avoided being sent home.) Monique is the Black Chick Who Everyone Hates, by a unanimous vote. (She was slow and failed to claim a bed for herself, so she poured water on one of the girls' bed and told her she peed on it so it's hers, forcing the other girl to sleep on a beanbag chair. Then, when the girls were pow-wowing about the take-a-quick-shower rule, Monique was all, "I can't do that. I need a certain amount of time. It's just who I am, and I'm not changing." I predict hair-pulling.)

The girls meet Jay and Miss J. for breakfast. Jay talks about bringing vulnerability to their work, and we're reminded that the Kim-look-alike token androgenous chick was in a plane crash in which her mother died. You know how Tyra loves a good sob story (i.e. last season's Hurricane Katrina victim who didn't know where her family was but decided to audition for a modeling competition in lieu of finding them).

Tyra shows up to usher the girls back to the house living room turned salon (so she could go back and finish the girls' breakfasts Helen-Keller-style).

Melrose is losing the mousey brown to go platinum blonde.

Brooke is going chocolate brown from bleach blonde -- a HUGE improvement and one that makes me want to dye my own hair brunette.

Eugena, who has already assured us that she's prettier than everyone else, is getting extentions ('cuz you know how Tyra loves a mini-me).

Megan, the plane-crash closet-lesbian, is getting a blonde pixie-cut.

Anchal, who has the typical middle-eastern hair-down-to-her-butt, is getting some length cut off, layers put in and... wait for it... hairline threading so she actually has a forehead. Ouch. And HA!

Monique the BCWEH is going honey brown, which proves that the atheists are right because, if there was a God, Monique would have gotten her head shaved.

Megg, the poser "rocker" chick, is getting a weave, too, and more curl for better head-banging and mosh-pitting and roadie-blowing. House Rule #7: If you have to keep telling everyone how Hardcore/Wild/Smart/Humble/Insert Appropriate Adjective Here you are, then YOU AREN'T.

A.J., the I-am-so-different girl (see above), is getting a Linda Evangelista cut. Oh, A.J., real goths don't want to be on the cover of Vogue. Now go cut yourself and write some shitty poetry, and be sure to include the following words: pain, death, suicide, rose, society and blood. You have fifteen minutes, starting.... now!

Michelle is becoming a redhead.

And her twin, Amanda, is becoming... a different shade of redhead. So you can tell them apart, I guess. Because they are individuals. No really!

Caridee... is so bland I don't even remember her. I think she went from blonde to blonder. Which means she's probably the next to go because they didn't invest a lot of time.

Jaeda is going Halle-Berry short, which may force me to recant my whole atheists-are-right stance because, at breakfast, she was bragging that she didn't care what they did with her hair. They could cut it all off, and she'd just work it! Well, who's the sniveling baby they named the episode after now, Eugena? Okay, I know it's a shock to loose a foot of hair, but she looks fantastic. Also? I think it's funny that she has a tranny name and they gave her a boy-cut because this "broad" has a jawbone so large you could scrape whale blubber with it.

(And since switching networks, ANTM has also changed their website, and I'm having trouble linking to individual photos, so you can just click through the before and after shots your damn self. For extra awesomeness, go here and click on Extra Footage: Makeover to see Jaeda burst into tears when Jay sheers her like a sheep.)

[And if I may interject my own two cents here -- and why wouldn't I? It's my blog! -- although I think ALL the makeovers are vast improvements, my step daughters are both prettier than half-to-most of these girls. Between Tyra and Janice, I think the wanna-be models out there are pretty much picked over.]

As a matter of fact, most of the girls are crying over their new looks. And I have to say -- Have they never seen the show? Are they all Amish and were discovered on their annual trip into the big city? Because they should know what they're in for, and they should know that blubbering over it is only going to piss off The Js. And you don't want to piss off The Js because they will sigh and roll their eyes and throw up their hands in disgust, and then you'll be sorry!

Jay read the girls the riot act, saying it's ultimately "insulting to Tyra," and then claims to be over it. Which you know he's not, and he and Miss J went out for apple-tinis after work and picked the girls apart like chickens pecking a bloody spot.

Tyra Mail: Something about "no make-up." Again -- not even trying. When is Tyra going to hire me?

(This review is getting long, and I'm only halfway done. Now would be a good time for a potty break.)

The girls have to choose clothes and make-up that best express them as a "Queen." *sigh* There are so many jokes begging to me made here, but I just don't have the time.

They're at some... place, and on different floors are different departments -- make-up, gowns, shoes. They have five minutes on each floor. If they miss the elevator, they're out.

Poser Megg doesn't even get off the first floor. Monique (BCWEH) gets stuck on the shoes floor. Boo-hoo. Melrose interviews that Monique is going to beat them all up when they get back to the house. Because Monique's failures, like the failures of all BCWEHs, are everyone else's fault.

On the top floor is Queen Latifah! Oh, you guys, I really love her. She's just so awesome. And I can't help but wonder what she really thinks of these stupid bitches, but she's so nice and encouraging to all of them.

Eugene wins the "Queen" competition for her "use of color" and chooses Caridee and Jaeda to share her prize with. The prize is a photo shoot for the Cover Girl website.

Monique, as predicted, is pissed about losing the competition which should have been hers by birthright. Apparently. But instead of beating up the other girls, she takes her anger out on them passive-aggressively, by being on the only house phone for three and a half hours.

Half the time, she's talking to her Mom, who tells her that the other girls better not mess with a "child of God" and that she is a "princess on the throne." Giving us a small glimpse of exactly why Monique is the way she is.

The rest of the time, she is literally on the phone with no one. She's just holding the phone up to her ear so the other girls can't use it. People, if she's this insane on the second episode, I think we can expect great, psychotic happenings from our little sociopath. I'm so excited!

And why was she on the phone with no one? Because Anchal, bless her little heart, went in and hung up on Monique's mom. Oh YES she did!!! But the other girls failed to back up Anchal, so the coup fell flat before accomplishing anything.

At this point in the program, Jerry's Dad came to pick him up, so I missed a few minutes. Yes, I made an eleven year old boy watch ANTM. So what? He's old enough now; he needs to learn to start judging people.

Anyway, it must involve Monique because everyone interviewed that they want her to go home. Can someone please tell me what went on with Monique at this point?

And then it's something about a wig fashion show or wig contest with these over-the-top, butt-fugly wigs that I guess they wear in the hood or something. So they all have a fashion shoot in ridiculous wigs, and the challenge is -- Can they still give good face with so much going on around them?

But they don't have a gallery where you can go through and see all the wig photos. You have to look at every model's portfolio individually. I hate this new website.

At judging, Tyra is dressed like a pirate wench. I shit you not. She's all in blue, with matching blue suede corset and boots. It's very clearly a shout-out to Yours Truly. Hey, Tyra girl! You are fierce! Call me! We'll go to Outback Steakhouse!

Miss J is dressed as sort of a... Nurse Peter Pan. I don't know who that's a shout-out to.

Tyra calls both Jaeda and Eugena on the carpet for their diva-like behavior. Monique is still taking bad photos (because vampires don't show up on film, duh!). Caridee says "Uff da" and immediately becomes my favorite.

Megan and Monique are in the final two, and to the dismay of the planet, it's Megan who goes home. Because we all know how Tyra hates a pig-nose. Except when it's attached to Eva Pigford. Or something.

Megan goes home gracefully and without tears, probably because she won't have to deal with Monique anymore.

Next week: The girls walk a tightrope (please, let there be someone who is afraid of heights!), and Melrose and Monique square off. YAY! Seriously, people, if you're not watching this show, WATCH IT. Or better yet, come over to my house and watch it. Cattiness is always better when shared!

Posted at 01:48 PM | Comments (3)

May 18, 2006

"The Girl Who Walked Through the Ancient City"

The title of this episode of "America's Next Top Model" is deceptive because:

a.) "The Girl" implies that only one of the final two walked through the ancient city, when actually they both did.

b.) They did not walk through an ancient city but a replica of an ancient city.

So the episode is much less zen-like than we are led to believe. On with the show. We get recaps of the three girls left -- Joanie, Jade and Danielle.

Danielle busted her toe in those stupid, platform heels Tyra made them all wear. Then she got her teeth fixed by the dentist. Then she went to the hospital quite sick. She receives accolades for being a trooper, but THE ACCENT! OH, MY GOD, THE ACCENT! THE HORROR! I've never had any trouble understanding Danielle. And would it really be so terrible to have a Cover Girl that Southerners could relate to? Get over it, Tyra. Her photos are better than yours.

They again point out that Joanie is from Beaver Falls. Is it because Beaver Falls makes then snicker? Or are they just so shocked that there are attractive people outside of L.A. and N.Y.C.? And we get to see more of the dentistry she underwent. Great.

Jade's recap isn't so much about what planet she's from or what she's gone through during the competition. It's more about what a raging bitch she is. More excuses, more arrogance. What, like we all forgot why we hate her?

This pre-show recap is completely unnecessary. As if anyone is sitting down to the t.v. and goes, "What's this show? Well, it's the season finale, and I've never seen the other episodes. I'll watch it!"

The girls are eating breakfast or something, and Jade has another head scarf on. I'd love to tell her she's pretentious to her face, cuz you know she'd have no idea what it means, and I could pass it off as a compliment, while Danielle and Joanie snicker behind her back. And then we'd all go to the mall and ditch Jade.

Jade tells the girls that she'll be happy for whoever wins. Riiiiight. Has a bigger lie ever been told? Then again, she's probably so sure that she'll be the winner, she's being completely truthful.

Danielle admits she's pretty strung out and tired of surprises. Jade jumps from her seat, screaming about someone being there and runs into the other room. Danielle is hanging from the ceiling by her fingernails. Jade starts laughing, and it dawns on the other two that she was totally messing with their heads. Nice girl.

Joanie interviews, "Pleeeeaaaase send Jade home! Her personality smells like a dirty diaper."

Joanie should totally be writing this recap.

Tyra Mail! The girls are gonna be easy, breezy and beautiful. Wanna bet?

Jay shows up with three envelopes, each containing a different script because they're each doing different commercials. But they're all for Cover Girl's new mascara.

Danielle is resolute, "I'm not going home because I have an accent."

Jade asks Jay, "Are we allowed to improvise?" I.e. Can she just make shit up as she goes along?

Um, no.

They meet the photographers, and he's all, "Eyelashes are hard to shoot." Oh, to have his troubles.

Joanie starts off as some charicature of a Barbie doll, and Jay tells her to "give me Joanie, not what you think a Cover Girl should be." And that's all she needs to nail it.

Jade interviews that she thinks people expect more from her because they can see how much potential she has. Oh, lawdy. I roll my eyes so hard that they do a complete 360, and now my retinas are all tangled up.

As expected, Jade is rambling and making shit up and not even remotely paying homage to the script she was supposed to have learned. And to make matters worse, her hair just couldn't be more awful. It's almost enough to make me feel bad for her. Almost.

Her bleached-out hair has gotten longer, frizzier and nappier. And there's just no hiding those roots. Geez, why don't they give her a touch-up or something? How is she supposed to "rock" terrible hair?

She's doing so poorly, Jay brings out cue cards for her. And she still can't say the words. Jay and I start to wonder the same thing -- can Jade read? I mean, for reals -- if she's illiterate, it would explain a lot: the insecurity, the over-compensation, the ridiculous vocabulary.

But, much to my chagrin, she finally pulls it together and gives them one great take. The director's assistant is probably mouthing the words to her, in exchange for a hummer later. Jay tells her it was great, but to me, it sounded like she was being sarcastic and thinking, 'This is so lame,' to herself the whole time.

The accent issue has Danielle in a tizzy, so she completely blanks when she gets in front of the camera. But, like the other girls, she sucks it up in the end and does a fabulous take. It's obvious she's trying to play down the accent, and it works.

Then they go to the still photos, and the photographer tells Danielle that her lashes look awesome.

Joanie is not used to her smile, yet, which I can understand, and needs some coaxing from the photographer.

Jade... oh, God, her hair. They dealt with her horrible hair by parting it on the side and plastering it down like Dennis the Menace. It's just awful. They also put her in a matronly mother-of-the-bride dress. I think Jay is making her look ugly on purpose, a tactic I heartily endorse.

Jade interviews that "modeling comes natural to me," and she's got her hands all over her face. The photographer is less than impressed and tells her "don't be too diva."

Tyra Mail! Only two will go on. Did the girls really need mail to tell them that? I mean, at this point, I think even Jade has caught on.

At judging, Tyra is in some all dusty-mauve ensemble that makes her look like a baby-doll-Victorian-hooker-grandma. I just can't wrap my brain around it. I guess maybe she's compensating for the lack of Janice?

Jade's photo is nice, but is it Cover Girl? No, because she's squinty and evil, and her nose looks really big. Okay, that last part wasn't the judges -- it was me. They say there's something... "hidden behind her expression." And from the looks on their faces, they're terrified to find out.

Jade, in return, offers more excuses, and the judges are clearly dumbfounded that she's still pulling this same crap. She says she hasn't taken acting classes and wasn't prepared enough for the commercial, then she goes off on a tangent about actors and how she is impressed and inspired by them.

And then, because she can see the incredulous looks on their faces, she ends with a kiss-ass, "And I'm inspired by you, too, Tyra." Yeah, throw her a bone because she was so hurt to be left off your Christmas card list, Jade. You knob.

Awesomely, Tyra corrects her with, "Everything you've been doing these past weeks has been to prepare you for this commercial, Jade." And then she adds something to the effect of, "I can't believe you're still arguing with us."

Joanie is wearing a grey tank top to judging. Doesn't she remember Tyra telling her that gray washes her out? Geez, if I were them, I'd prepare for judging like I had a date with Ian McShane (who has knocked Dominic Monaghan way the hell off my List of Five).

Her photo gets mixed reviews. Tight mouth, great eyes, looks like Grace Kelly. Joanie asks, "She was a dancer, right?" Which kinda makes me cringe. Tyra's aghast, too, as she almost shouts, "And a princess!" Hee!

Danielle makes Nigel melt, and honestly, she looks like an angel. Everyone she worked with said she was the most personable, and everyone on the panel gave her props for better articulation. Everyone but Tyra, that is, who just "didn't like it at all." BITCH!

Deliberations.

Miss J. and Twiggy jump to Danielle's defense saying that a little bit of voice coaching is all Danielle needs. Which is probably the nicest thing Miss J. has said all season.

Joanie just can't take a bad photo.

Jade is just dead set on being a model. Her photos are good, but she's always answering back.

At this point, I was terrified that Danielle was going home, and we'd be stuck with another half hour of Jade. So I went and got some chocolate during the commercial placed strategically to add drama. Whatever.

Joanie gets the first photo, and Tyra tells her that there's a 50% chance of being ANTM. Oh, there goes Ty-Ty, showing off her math skills again!

Tyra does her recap of the judges deliberations for both Danielle and Jade. Jade stands there, shifting her weight back and forth, fidgeting, looking anywhere but at Tyra while she's talking to her. It's like watching an upperclassman get busting for smoking in the locker room. I'm embarrassed for her.

And Tyra points out, "Jade, you're just standing there fidgeting and not saying anything, but you're still talking."

I'm so torn between love and hate for Tyra.

DANIELLE GETS HER PHOTO! Jade goes home! Step off, bitch!

She exits the room with, "Peace, ladies. Thank you." No insincere hugs, thank God. She just couldn't be more pissed, and that whole room just couldn't be happier to see her go.

While packing, she interviews, "My only regret is that they've made the wrong decision and will pick the wrong person to win. I'm just in a different realm. People don't know how to handle me."

Ever the cocky, delusional robot, Jade hums and snaps her fingers as she exits their pad. Oh, you showed us, Jade! You'll never let The Man get you down! The show a photo of the final three girls, and Jade disappears from it to the sound of her own finger snap, which I love because it's somehow so fitting. You did it to yourself, honey.

So now, Joanie and Danielle are the Cutest. Top Two. Evah. So cute, I can't even believe I debased them with that over-used phrasing. Sorry, gals! My love for you is real!

Tyra Mail! "Your body is your temple. Work it, and make me proud."

The girls are going to walk in some huge fashion show for "Issue." The runway is some big city they built on the water, and it's reeeeaaaalllllllly looooooooooooooong. It's also in the afternoon, and it's going to be 99 degrees. Fun, fun, fun.

Lots of going on and on about the runway and how much they both want to win. I guess, when there's only two girls left, and they're both pretty nice, you have to rely on a lot of filler.

Lots of nervousness and waiting backstage. Danielle has to walk carrying a drum. And she's wearing tie-dyed leggings under her outfit. Just like I did in 1986.

Joanie is so nervous that she worries she may be at her "breaking point."

Danielle walked too slow, according to Jay. She was just trying not to slip on the truckload of flower petals they dumped on the runway.

Joanie has a ton of feathers on her head. Honestly, all the clothes are really weird. I wonder if they get to keep what they modeled? Because where the hell are they going to wear them again?

Jay is so proud that they looked like models. Um, should someone remind him of the whole premise of the show? Can someone please get Jay a cue card?! Tyra is so proud that she's tearing up. She must have perfected that technique for her talk show. Joanie gets weepy, too.

Judging. The girls are in their runway outfits. Well, I guess that's one place they can wear them because they'll never look more ridiculous than Tyra.

At this point, I stopped taking a lot of notes because I was sure Joanie was going to win, what with Tyra being all about the hate for Danielle's accent.

Danielle had Miss J's walk. Everyone looks at each girl's entire portfolio, and there just isn't a bad photo in the lot. Tyra asks if there's anything the girls would like to say, and both graciously thank the judges for the experience. Very classy.

The girls leave the room, and the judges declare this race the hardest one yet. The girls are neck in neck, and for once, I completely agree. Usually I have a clear winner in mind, but this time, damn.

The girls come back into the room holding hands. Awwwwwwwww! I start to hope that Tyra will make ANTM history by choosing TWO winners, but I realize that that probably wouldn't fly with their sponsors.

Much suspense and breath-holding... and Danielle is the winner! I'm so happy for her and sad for Joanie at the same time! It's very emotional! And now I'm going all Tyra on you guys -- how embarassing.

Joanie is incredibly gracious and tells Danielle, "The best girl won." And consider my heartstrings yanked because that is a damn cool thing to say after losing something so important to her. I have completely forgiven her for being so catty in the last episode.

Danielle is all teary and says to the camera, "I'm a Cover Girl, Mommy!"

Aaaaaand that's where I lost it. Alert the media and wake the pope -- Wenchie has a soft spot after all.

Well, now what am I going to read on Television Without Pity? "Supernatural" is over, too. For the season, or for good, I don't know. Well, there's always Mondo Extras and my Xena DVDs! And "Deadwood" starts up again on June 11th! YAY!!!!!!

Oh! Almost forgot! Husband wasn't home to watch; he was downtown at Older Step Daughter's end-of-the-year recital, which started at 8:00. He called at 8:27 to ask who won. BWAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

I'm sorry to confess -- it didn't occur to me to lie and say it was Jade. He would have screamed to drown out the whole horn section.

Posted at 01:42 PM | Comments (1)

May 15, 2006

"The Girls Go to Phuket"

Didn't I just do this? I never thought I'd say this, but thank God this is the next-to-last episode of "America's Next Top Model." Although I have found more truly likable girls this season, Jade's continued presence is just unbearable.

Speaking of which, we open to see Jade. Bitching. Again. "I've been in the Bottom Two so many times! I don't belong there! I don't know why people keep getting a different perception of me!" When is someone going to shred her face with their fingernails? When?!

Danielle is in the pool with Sara -- bow-chicka-bowwwwwww -- and is obsessing over her southern accent, which Tyra keeps calling "ghetto," even tho' it isn't. She said she speed-talks and her words get jumbled together. I disagree; I've heard every hilarious thing she has said. I think Tyra is just a snob.

Sara is talking about the mall thing again. Yawn.

In a surprise move, Joanie gets bitching and starts talking smack about Sara, saying that modeling isn't her "real passion." So I guess she doesn't deserve to be there? Well, I didn't exactly grow up dreaming of the glamorous world of typing and filing, but I'm good at it, so who gives a crap?

Tyra mail! [Insert unclever rhymey thing here] -- go-sees!

The girls arrive at a temple and meet a designer who is going to teach them a bit about Thai customs for their go-sees. Jade is awed about the biggest temple she's ever seen close-up. Temples are in the log cabin family, doncha know.

Thailand means country of smiles, so the girls must smile all the time, like being in a wedding that lasts your entire life. You must take off your shoes before going inside, which I kinda like because it drives me nuts when people track shit into my house. Also, if you go visit someone, it's customary to bring them a gift.

Man, I could really get into Thailand. If not for the fakey-smile thing.

Then she gives the girls their portfolios of all the photos they've had taken over the course of the competition. And I gotta tell ya, if you're trying to break into modeling, that right there is a huge deal. It's gotta be worth thousands of dollars.

The girls are given, like, $80,000 baht to buy presents, which is like $1.57. They go to what I assume is the Thai equivalent of The Dollar Store. Jade buys flowers, and Danielle buys little elephants. With this whole Thai gift-buying policy, I would imagine that every house in Thailand is just packed full of chatchkies and knick-knacks and gagadills.

Sara almost forgets her portfolio in The Baht Store.

When they're done shopping, the girls are each to take a little taxi called a tuk-tuk to all their go-sees. The tuk-tuks are like a cross between a moped and a mini coup.

Jade is all upset because she wants doors and windows on her car. Now, I'm all for living in the lap of luxury, but honestly, the tuk-tuks don't look all that bad. Maybe she's afraid of getting shit thrown at her? Or an assassination attempt?

Whereas Danielle is just afraid that they'll take a wrong turn and end up in Korea. Apparently, she's been taking geography lessons from Jade because one would have to take a wrong turn and then drive through the entire country of China to get to North Korea. Oh, Danielle, don't make me hate you, too.

At Sara's first go-see, the lady loves her gift, but Sara is too tall and too old (22).

Joanie goes to some place where the theme is Alice In Wonderland meets Best Little Whorehouse In Texas. She must do her best runway walk wearing a huge frog mask and frilly, yellow lingerie. Apparently, all the animals are meeting for tea with the Mad Hatter, and then swapping partners.

Just minutes behind Joanie is Jade, but unfortunately, there are no stalking laws in Thailand.

Jade watches Joanie's go-see and interviews, "I don't know if lingerie is Joanie's thing. She doesn't really have a lingerie body. I have a lingerie body."

Maybe, Jade, but you also have a paper-bag face. The Alice In Whorehouse In Texas designer doesn't like how Jade is "moody" and not smiling. Huh. You'd think that watching Joanie work at a "level" so far beneath her own would make Jade smile. Weird.

Danielle forgets to take off her shoes, but the designer really likes her portfolio.

Sara is walking for the designer, who tells her to "walk more gentle." Like she's walking on the fragile bubble that is Jade's reality. Having chosen a new stalkee, Jade watches Sara's go-see and cackles. I'm sorry, the all the usual words -- bitch, twat, stalker-alien-robot -- just don't cut it anymore.

Unhappy with her waning appearance, Danielle deadpans to the camera, "Do you know what heat and humidity does to a black girl's hair?"

And I can honestly answer -- no, I don't. But judging by the look on her face, it ain't good. My hair is pretty darn straight. I once spent a week in Atlanta in the middle of August, and my hair burst into ringlets. Ringlets, people!

At the 4:30 p.m. deadline -- which they were told was very, very important -- all four girls are stuck in traffic. Not exactly their fault. Sara and Joanie arrive back at 4:45, which isn't too bad, but I'm a rude American, so what do I know?

Danielle arrives at 5:05, and Jade strolls in at 5:40 with her what's-the-big-deal? attitude. Jade made sure to see ALL the designers on the list, regardless of time, because she decided that that was the most important thing -- not getting back on time so people don't have to wait on your skinny ass.

Sounds like Jade knows she's not going to win, so she's getting her face in front of as many people who might possibly help her post-ANTM career.

The designer bawls them all out and reads the list of comments collected from their go-sees. Sara has huge potential but seems a little stiff. Danielle's appearance in person was not good (am I the only one who can't see this Black Hair Humidity Issue on her?), but her photos were well-liked. Jade was not as nice as the other girls. Joanie doesn't stand out.

The winner would have been Danielle, who would have won a rack of clothes from each designer on the go-see, but since everyone was late getting back, no one wins.

Well, at least it wasn't Jade.

Danielle goes, "Please punch me in the face."

Tyra mail! Something about "just wanting to say Phuket." Which is pronounced [foo-ket'] and is a providence famous for its diving and snorkeling.

"The water and Jade -- we mix." Oh, I love it when people talk about themselves in the third person. It makes Wenchie want to throw her shoe at them.

The girls have to take a plane there, and they get to stay at this amazing house right on the ocean, where Joanie suddenly turns into a bitch. She's angry with Sara and complains to Danielle about modeling not being Sara's passion.

Danielle, wisely, tells Joanie to focus on herself and not on Sara. Which is probably Danielle's way of saying that she doesn't want to hear Joanie's bitching, but that doesn't stop her! She goes on that Sara copies her and shouldn't be there and blah blah blah.

Tyra mail! Something about taking a bath because they're going to get dirty...? Oh, she's just not even trying anymore.

Tyra comes for a visit, in a do-rag and pajamas. She talks about how Phuket is paradise, but on December 26, 2004, it was struck by that huge tsunami. Blah blah must respect history and culture blah blah celebrate rebuilding blah blah. Moment of silence, holding hands in a circle. *sigh* Are the girls going to put on their bathing suits soon? I think Tyra got this show confused with her talk show.

Danielle starts to cry and is really affected by it, which is kinda cool that she's so empathetic. Is there anything I don't love about her?

Joanie interviews that it made all the crap between them disappear for a moment. Aaaaaaaand then they're back to hating Jade.

Jay appears to explain that their shoot is for Elle Girl magazine, Apple Mobil and O.P. swimwear, and all the reps for these products are going to be watching the shoot. No pressure or anything.

Danielle is still freaked out by the thought of bodies floating in the very water they're going to be posing in. Jade admits to being intimidated by having Nigel as their photographer. Probably because he's a total pervert.

The waves are really rough on Joanie because she's only slightly heavier than seaweed. She is "fierce" and "works it" anyway.

Sara poses on the rocks and is completely tense. Nigel keeps telling her to relax her face. Or sit on his. It's hard to hear, what with the waves and all.

Jade is standing on some boat that keeps rocking, but she stays on it because she knows that Nigel will admire her plucky resolve.

Danielle is STILL freaking about the tsunami victims, and Nigel gives her some very good advice about not letting it ruin her shoot and focusing on the beauty of the place.

The girls leave Phuket on a plane and head back for a "stressful elimination." Yeah, I've never been so keyed up. Tyra mail, go before the judges, yadda yadda yadda. Danielle is nervous about her photos and her accent.

Commercials. My phone rings. It's my Mom. How considerate of her to call during commercials! Because you know I don't answer the phone while I'm watching t.v. -- not even for Mom.

M: I don't know why, but I'm watching "America's Next Top Model."

PW: HA! I know why! It's because my recaps drove you to it!

M: Are you watching right now?

PW: Of course.

M: Okay -- what's with the two skinny, white girls? Why are they even on the show? They're ugly!

PW: Yeah, but they give good face.

Officially the Coolest Conversation I Ever Had with My Mom.

Judging!

Joanie looks awesome. Jade looks washed out because she's wearing a shirt that matches her skin color and her hair color. Ew. And as long as we're all judging, can I just say that Twiggy looks great? She seems to be aging a lot more gracefully than most beautiful, famous women.

The girls will be judged on two photos -- the polaroid taken at their go-sees, and the bathing suit photo. Tyra says that the polaroids are more "real." She also gives us a demonstration of her "real" booty and her "model" booty. One is huge, and one is huge and tucked under.

Danielle's polaroid is okay, and she explains how the hot and sweaty tuk-tuk ride affected her hair. The Elle Girl shot is too sexy for a girls' magazine. Tyra explains the difference between modeling for men and modeling for women.

Tonight's "America's Next Top Model" is brought to you by Opposites!

Sara's polaroid looks shy and too amateur. Also? She can't smile with her eyes. What is she...? Is she pruning the tree? Trya smiles with her eyes and looks terrifyingly manic.

Jade needs to smile and show warmth in her polaroids, and in life in general. Is it just me, or does she have a lazy eye? Her photo is good. If you like girls who look like they're always about to cut you. Tyra remarks that she looked stiff in a lot of her photos, and Nigel jumps to her defense about the rocking boat.

Tyra loves that Joanie finally "looks modely" in front of the judges. Her polaroid shows that she needs to push her arms and shoulders back. They looooooooove her photo and say she looks really young. Jade's sun-damaged forehead wrinkles in dismay.

Deliberations.

Joanie and Jade get photos, which means, yes, Jade is in the Final Three. Words fail me.

Sara has progressed, but has she progressed enough? Can Danielle learn to be articulate enough to be a Cover Girl spokes model?

Danielle stays, and Tyra lies, "Accents are beautiful because they show where we come from." She's such a hypocrite. Twiggy probably shamed her into it.

On Wednesday: SEASON FINALE!!! Don't be calling my house.

Posted at 02:24 PM | Comments (0)

May 09, 2006

"The Girl Who Is Rushed To the Emergency Room"

Oh my God, "America's Next Top Model" is on again TOMORROW, and I haven't even reviewed last week's! Where has the week gone?!

I'll start by expressing the disappointment of the entire world that Jade wasn't rushed to the hospital with a broken nose and concussion after being pummeled by her fed-up roommates. I think Tyra should have to answer to the United Nations for her part in all this.

We open with Furonda moaning about being in the Bottom Two, Sara vowing to fake the confidence she doesn't possess, Danielle reading scripture, and Jade being an ignorant twat.

Jade calls Joanie "demanding" to her face (I don't know why... perhaps Jade was thinking of a different word?), and then interviews behind her back that Joanie doesn't look like a model. Well, I guess Jade just figured out who is likely to win, or at least be in the Final Two.

I would just like to point out that Danielle is apparently a religious girl, and yet she doesn't feel compelled to shove it in everyone else's face, CAMILLE! Danielle is sweet.

Tyra Mail -- something about being "in a strange position." Are the girls doing yoga? Does anyone care?

The girls are taken to a theatre and meet some artistic director whose name I'm not even going to attempt to recreate here. Those Thai people have some interesting names! Anyhoo, the girls are going to learn Thai classical dance. Lots of pointy hats and backward-bent hands. The movements tell a story, so I guess it's kinda like hula, only without the fruity drinks and sexy hip-shaking.

I like how, when the dance instructor tells them that, to have their hands above eyebrow level when they're dancing conveys arrogance, we get a quick close-up of Jade. As if we'd forgotten!

And we're treated to Jade interviewing, "I don't have an ounce of arrogance in my body." I don't know if that's even relevant to their dance lesson, but it's still funny.

In the middle of the lesson, Danielle starts to get a migraine, and she gets faint, "like an out-of-body experience."

The dance lesson is over, and the instructor tells them, "Be beautiful, but not arrogant." Again, camera on Jade. I'm beginning to think they're making her wear a sign or something.

At lunch, Joanie finally snaps and breaks the cardinal rule of Don't Look Jade In The Eye. She asks Jade why she's so defensive, and Jade couldn't more aptly prove her point when she sings, "Liiiiiies! Liiiiies!"

Honestly, all Joanie is doing is asking a question. She's not even being snotty. And then Jade goes on to spout gems like, "You're perceiving me as something I'm not," and "Are you Tyra?"

In perhaps my Favorite ANTM Interview EVAH, Joanie goes, "When I'm next to her, all I smell... is bitch."

And while the girls are wrinkling their noses at Jade's foul stench, they don't even notice that Danielle is carried off-set, crying, breathing painfully, and in really bad shape.

Danielle says that her body is all numb and shaky, and her eyes are twitching, and frankly, I'm kinda scared for her. It's pretty unnerving.

The rest of the girls get ready for their Thai dancing, and although there don't appear to be any assistants in the room with them, they put on their ornate costumes correctly and with great ease, even down to the exaggerated eyeliner. Are we supposed to think they did that by themselves?

Joanie says she's sick of Jade winning. Joanie, you're Nobel Prize is in the mail. Jade says that she "fits the image" of a Thai dancer. Yes, Jade, we get it -- you're an ethnic chameleon. And now Thailand is going to fly a plane into the ANTM headquarters for the insult.

Joanie dances first for the audience, and she's actually really, really good. I'm impressed how she picked it up so quickly.

Jade interviews, "She's really good, but I'm not intimidated. She's not at my level."

Uh-huh.

Sara looks really uncomfortable on stage, like she's praying to get it over with without looking like too much of an idiot.

Furonda, the poor dear, has no clue what she's doing, so she just starts being silly. She has her hands above eyebrow level, to the horror of the entire audience. Then she goes into a hip-hop-hula thing. Oh dear.

And the winner is JOANIE! Finally, some justice! She picks Sara to share her prize because Sara hasn't won anything. Sara kinda takes offense at this and interviews that she doesn't want Joanie's pity. But she's no fool and totally goes with her.

Danielle is in a hospital room in Thailand. God, doesn't that just send shivers through your soul? She's upset that she's stuck there with an IV in her while the girls are dancing. I say, Lesser Of Two Evils.

She says she was just dehydrated, and although the doctor wants her to stay and rest, she leaves.

Sara and Joanie win a nice dinner with the dance instructor which, as prizes go, is pretty sucky. I mean, it's no diamonds!

Tyra Mail -- Burn your bikini because you're going to rock it in trunks. Or something.

Danielle's face is hurting (well, it's killing Jade!), and she's in no shape to do a shoot. We find out the whole story is dehydration, exhaustion and food poisoning. Man, that sucks. But she gets outta bed anyway.

I'm pretty much HHHHHHHATING Tyra at this point, for making the girls feel like they have to endanger their health in order to stay in the competition. I guess she's just setting them up for the reality of bulimia in their future.

They get to their location, and Jay Manuel rides in on an elephant. He tells they girls they will ride the elephants to the location of their shoot and then pose with them. Cool! I love elephants!

Jade is in awe and says, "Wow. To be next to an animal that preposterous..." The elephant is thinking the same exact thing.

I'm not sure what word she was searching for there, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't preposterous.

Today's shoot is for the Venus Vibrator electric shaver. Oh, God. The girls shave their legs right there. Classy. There's a douche commercial in their future, I just know it. And they're going to have to douche right there on the beach.

Danielle is the first to pose with the elephant, and it gets spooked by the camera flashes and walks away. "Bitch, please, I have such a hangover."

And then, the second best interview of all time. Jade is still talking about how awesome it is to be posing with an elephant because -- get this -- "the elephant is in the dinosaur family."

This set off Husband laughing hysterically. I have a 7 year old Nephew who can give Jade a lesson in animal families, if she'd like. Chapter One: Mammals and How They're Different. Dear Christ, "the dinosaur family."

Her shoot is sucking ass, and for the billionth time, she blames it on Jay's direction. Which, I agree, is rarely insightful, but seriously.

Furonda is leading with her jaw in all the photos. I'm sad cuz she usually takes good photos. Jade calls her, "the weakest link." I'm surprised Jade, in all her evolutionary wisdom, didn't call her "the missing link."

Joanie wows Jay and circus trainers everywhere by standing on the elephants lifted front leg. She's so awesome. All her shots look fabulous, and Jay is shocked at how the elephant and she seem to have a connection. I love her so.

Jade again has to remind us that, "I don't pay attention to Joanie. She's not on my level."

Liiiiiiiiiies! Liiiiiiiiiies!

Sara totally copies Joanie's moves, and not very well. Oh, Sara.

Jade's delusion continues, because her lips are moving, "I am a threat. The girls see that and will be happy if I leave."

AND SO WILL THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, YOU STUPID TWAT!!!!!!!!!!!

Judging.

This week's retarded challenge is to convey three emotions, with a mask on, using the Thai dance moves they learned, but while still posing like a model. The emotions are sensuality, despair and compassion. I could do this.

Furonda is "high energy" but horrible, which is code for "total spaz." Her photo is nice.

Sara... I can't read what I wrote about her three emotions posing, but she gets called on copying Joanie, and not even very well.

Jade danced but didn't pose for her three emotions. Her photo looks like she's flying. They say her legs look weird and she was stiff for the whole shoot.

Joanie is consistantly fabulous. Period.

Tyra explains to the judges that Danielle was in the hospital the day before the shoot, and that asshole Nigel actually calls her "high maintenance." Jesus, why doesn't he just accuse her of the vapors and a wandering uterus? She had FOOD POISONING, Archie Bunker! The rest of the judges are impressed that she took such a gorgeous shot while sick.

Deliberations.

Jade is photogenic but knows better than everyone else.

In their infinite compassion, they agree they can't fault Danielle for being in the hospital and missing the dancing challenge. They wish her speech was "less ghetto."

Joanie is awesome on film but can't perform in person.

Furonda dances to the beat of her own drum.

Sara is much improved, but is it too little to late?

Joanie, Sara and Danielle get their photos. Of Furonda and Jade, Furonda goes home. That's it -- I'm officially an atheist. (Wait, do I still get Christmas presents?)

Jade can stay with a warning from Tyra, "Don't be your own worst enemy, Jade." Why not? She's everyone else's.

Furonda struts out of the room with her fierce-yet-goofy signature walk, endearing her to my heart even more, and hopefully making the judges regret their decision.

Next week: Bad waves threaten a beach photo shoot, and Jade is a stupid, stupid bitch. Oh no -- waves!

Posted at 11:59 AM | Comments (2)

April 28, 2006

"The Girl Who Is Going To the Moon"

This was the mid-season episode of "America's Next Top Model" meant to get any new-comers up-to-date. ANTM Cliff Notes, I guess. Frankly, there was way too much old footage and not enough new. I won't recap the whole thing -- just give you some highlights.

We open with a voiceover from Tyra about how hard modeling is, while we get footage of her in various Victoria's Secret runway shows. Shameless self-promotion. I'm surprised she didn't include clips from her talk show.

Janice tells Brooke, "You need to groom yourself a little bit more." Hee! Mean, but true.

Apparently, there are photos from Nigel's modeling days in the ANTM house, and the girls are drooling over them. Funny I never noticed those photos before.

Kathy squeals over finding Campbell's Chicken Noodle soup in the ANTM pantry because she luuuuuuuuuuuves chicken noodle soup. Kathy who? Yes, exactly.

Jade tries to tell someone how to spell "etcetera." E-X-Z-E-D-E-R-A. Um, Jade? READ. A. BOOK.

Danielle gets her moustache waxed. Ouch. Hee! Fem-stache!

Joanie reads Furonda's Rules in a Furonda accent, while Furonda laughs her ass off. I love these two. Can Tyra please produce a spin-off where these two are roommates and trying to make it on their own in the big city?

So tired of Jade's butt-cheeks-and-pashmina look.

Joanie says of her, "She says she's not from this planet. I think I believe her." Furonda chimes in with, "I think she's bi-polar." Do you think they'd come to my house for a sleepover?

Jade says, "I am America's Next Top Model. Reconize!" *sigh* Reconize. I wonder if Jade would reconize a dictionary, if I showed one to her. Or any book, really.

Kari confesses to the girls that she was really fat as a little girl and looked just like Miss Piggy. They show some photos, and she's not entirely exaggerating. Altho' she's still cute as a basket of puppies.

Gina bites. And I don't mean that Gina sucks or Gina is mean. I mean she literally bites. People. On their bodies. As a sign of affection. Clip montage of her chewing on Danielle like a McNugget. Joanie goes, "What page are you on, honey?" Have I mentioned that I love Joanie?

The girls sit around on their beds talking about how they can't believe Kari was sent home instead of Gina. In front of Gina. And Gina agrees with them. Gina, can you introduce Jade to Reality, please?

Interview of Jade saying, "I don't like drama. I come with humbleness." I have never heard such blatant lies in my life. Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhate Jade.

Gina and Jade fight. Jade, of course, assumes Gina is intimidated by her beauty. Gina goes, "I'm intimidated by your ignorance!" Hee! Doesn't really make sense, but I like it. Joanie tells Gina she's proud of her, and I think we all know how I feel about Joanie.

Oh. Clip of Gina talking smack about Jade to the male models. Somehow, that strikes me as uncool. I mean, sure, the other girls know what's going on because they're all in the same house. But did she really have to drag outsiders into it?

N4 tries to tell us that she was thinking of her boyfriend when she was kissing the male model. HA! If anything, she was thinking, "Man, he's a way better kisser than my boyfriend! Quieter, too!"

Jay stops by the ANTM house for breakfast and is appalled by the smell. Yeah, these girls are PIGS. He makes them clean up a bit, and then he leaves, telling them he'd rather get breakfast at the drive-thru. One of the girls whispers that Jay is obsessive-compulsive. Because he thinks the kitchen shouldn't smell like rotting food. Danielle and Joanie clean the kitchen, so of course I'm inviting Danielle to my sleepover, too.

We see Jade's Cover Girl commercial again, where Jay calls her a drag queen and she drops the F-Bomb. Good times. Have I mentioned that I hate Jade? Cuz I really do.

Furonda imitates N4 on the phone. "John. I didn't... John. Why can't... John. John! John!" Pure. Awesome.

Then the real N4 and John are on the phone, and he whips out such classics as, "Baby, I'm your love punching bag," and, "You're sending me to an emotional grave." Because pathetic whining is such a turn-on.

We see the post-Krump photo shoot Krump dance contest, where people are "served" and they "bring it." I'm unclear as to what the rules to this contest are exactly, but I'm pretty sure there are no winners.

We then get a montage of Jade making up words. "Dwelve." "Withhandle." "Derrogativeness." "Considerating." "Brunetteness." And one I wrote down that I can't decipher, for obvious reasons.

Danielle doesn't know what a marionette is and finds out from Jay. Then she's all like, "Why couldn't he just say 'puppet with strings'? Then I'd know exactly what he's talking about. Why does he have to get all fancy and say marionette? Who says marionette?"

Joanie uses the dummy to voice her lust for Nigel Barker. Joanie has found an outlet. She loves the dummy and wants to take it home.

More dentistry! Yeah, cuz that's what the show was missing.

Danielle messes with Jade while Jade is under the teeth-whitening lamp. She uses the little spit-suction thing to suction Jade's head. Hee!

And that's pretty much it. We never really find out which girl is going to the moon or why.

Posted at 01:41 PM | Comments (1)

April 27, 2006

"The Girl Who Is a Model, Not a Masseuse"

I think that proclaiming that any girl in "America's Next Top Model" is a model is kinda pushing it, but I understand they needed a title for this episode, and they probably couldn't say "The Girl Who Is an Arrogant Twat", so whatever.

We open to see Jade and N4 bonding. Because no one else likes them, so they have to. Furonda is digging on her recent successes and drawing motivation from them. Chick is still ugly, but I like her.

Danielle is pissed about Tyra's objection to her tooth-gap. "It's like, I choose to fix the gap, or I choose to go home." Oooooh, foreshadowing!

They meet with Rachel from some P.R. firm who tells them the Do's and Don't's of interviewing. She hits on N4's cheating-on-boyfriend issue "completely by accident," and N4 is flustered. Yeah, like anything on this show isn't scripted. We're totally buying it, Tyra.

Some big, black guy named George is going to interview -- i.e. insult -- the girls. Didn't we just see this?

Jade talks about how versatile, and George asks her what's with the head wrap. He goes, "You look like an arrogant bitch to me." Yeah, cuz Barbara Walters would totally say that. And Jade counters with, "I'm an exotic, bi-racial butterfly." George and I are both mildly amused.

Danielle confesses to being "stubborn and cantankerous." He asks her to spell cantankerous, and she can't. But at least she doesn't effing make up words like Jade does! "Dwelve"?!?!?

George tells Sara to let down her hair or something, and then tells her he doesn't get a "sexy" vibe from her. Yeah, I totally saw Oprah do this once with Halle Berry. And Sara goes, "But is my hair pretty?" Cute! Even George must confess that it is.

George asks Furonda if she's The Queen of Sheba, and Furonda goes, "I don't even know where Sheba is!" He and I share a laugh over this. I love her, even when she's stupid. She's quite charming.

N4 answers that her best feature is her smile. And George tells her that she's "a gazelle and a snob." N4 is taken aback, but I'm glad someone finally called her on it.

George gives his assessment of the girls. And can I just ask -- what the hell are his credentials? Isn't he just Tyra's chauffer? C'mon, lady, fess up. We know he's no interviewer. He's just a dick.

Danielle needs to improve her speech. Joanie is "special" and "the truest." He says of Jade, "a little humility goes a long way."

N4 was "good but snobby." And somehow she wins. Even though Joanie charmed the pants off George. Now tell me this shit isn't rigged. Jesus Christ on a cracker.

N4 picks Jade as her guest, again, and the other girls are totally over seeing these bitches win. The winners get a spa treatment, and the losers have to cater to them. God is dead, people.

Danielle discusses The Tooth-Gap Issue with Sara and Joanie. To their credit, they are afraid to give any advice one way or another, lest it look like they have ulterior motives. Danielle then calls her Mom, who tells her it's call, but wisely cites The Parable of Cassandra, in which the beauty pageant queen was sent home for hanging onto her last inch of hair.

Danielle goes for it, and in a procedure that blessedly requires no blood, the dentist gives her two slightly bigger front teeth, so that her gap is much smaller. And she's cool with it. Smart girl.

Sara is on the phone with her boyfriend discussing her re-occurring theme. Found in mall, desire in question, must show them, blah blah blah. And her boyfriend is both supportive and funny! Jealous, N4?

The girls are at dinner in some... vaguely middle-eastern-themed setting. A drag queen enters, dressed like Tyra. People, it's uncanny. Then Tyra comes in, and they argue about who is the real Tyra, when we all know that the current Tyra is an alien who ate the real Tyra years ago.

They both claim to be "Ty Ty" (ugh) and yell and get all up in each other's face. Unfortunately, there was no ripping off of wigs. And it's all an elaborate way of telling the girls they'll be going to Thailand.

Get it? Ty-land?

*cricket* *cricket*

Yeah.

Anyway, it's cool, and Joanie goes, "I've only been to Canada!" Hee!

Montage of the girls packing their stuff, and Jade stealing gumballs out of a big jar. 'Cuz they don't have gum in Thailand. And Jade is cheap. Furonda interviews that N4 is the one to beat, so she'll be stepping up her game.

And the girls are off to Bangkok! (Bang-cock! Hee! I'm twelve!)

They're picked up at the airport in some super-custom pink van that immediately makes me think of the Pussy Wagon from "Kill Bill: Vol 1." (Why aren't there more photos of this legendary vehicle on the internet?)

Joanie and Sara try learning some of the language on the plane, which is totally awesome in its un-American-ness. Furonda is excited that she has 3,000 baht to spend, but some captioning tells us that that's only about $77. D'oh!

The hotel is breath-taking, and the girls are greeted with bracelets and wine, instead of as the cheap, dirty whores that they are. Their suite, too, is one they cannot possibly be worthy of. (Ended with a preposition. Deal with it.) I am droooooooooooling over the hardwood floors.

Spa time!

N4 is quite taken with herself and calls herself "outstanding." Barf. Sara and Danielle are in charge of giving Jade and N4 their bath. In the same tub. Naked. Danielle's not to happy about that. Yeah, that's gonna be The Bathtub Ring From Hell.

Furonda isn't happy about having to touch N4 for her massage. I think she has a touch-phobia. She rubs N4's calf with one finger. Awesome. Joanie, on the other hand, is trying to be mature and take it seriously. Furonda goes to wash her hands for four hours.

Tyra Mail! Something about "getting some tail," and the girls theorize they'll be working with more male models. They wish. I'm sure it's animals. Preferably carnivorous.

But no. The girls are to be mermaids, and I'm kinda jealous 'cuz I want to be one. But when I see they are hung upside down in a net with dead fish over some stinky canal, I'm over it. It's for Banana Boat suntan lotion. Reeeeeeeeaaally scraping the bottom of the barrel for sponsors, aren't we, Tyra?

Danielle is totally hilarious in this part. First, she's afraid that one of the dead fish is a piranha and doesn't want her neck bitten. By the... undead, vampire piranha... I guess?

Then, as they're loading her into the net, she's like, "Is that fish juice I just felt on my leg? I just threw up in my mouth a little bit." And then, when in the harness, "My uterus is flat as a pancake right now."

Love her.

Danielle is in pain but still awesome enough to earn Jay's gay-love.

N4 bemoans her lack of mermaid-hair, and the rest of the girls try really hard not to gloat at her suckiness.

Jay comments that he's finally seeing Jade's softer side, and Jade says all condescending-like, "I'm listening. I'm learning."

Sara looks like a "scared guppy," which sounds kind of cute, but I don't think Jay meant it cute. Luckily, she improved as the shoot when on.

By the way, Jay is holding a fan this whole time. Like he's Yum-Yum from "The Mikado" or something. GOD, it's irritating.

Furonda complains about feeling like "fish bait."

Joanie is upside down and is like, "I think I'm gonna throw up. Seriously. I just drank a lot of coffee." I'm poised on the edge of my couch to see a model spew chunks, but she pulls it together and goes great.

Afterwards, Jade and N4 interview about how awesome they were at the shoot. Wow, Jade's delusion is contagious. We're all at risk! And Jade actually says, "The world will be upset if we leave." Wow.

At this point, I went to pee, so I missed a little, but I they are at judging, and I think they have to talk and "sell themselves" to the panel.

You know there's nothing Jade loves more than to talk about herself, but her grammar and vocabulary are awful. N4 rambles on and on and on and on and on, failing to recognize the many, many unsubtle hints from the judges to knock it off. Furonda freezes.

By the way, I must comment on what the hell Tyra has done to herself on this particular day. Now, despite all the teasing, I really do think she's a beautiful woman. But her hair do is like Dorothy-Hamill-meets-ski-cap-meets-woven-basket-meets-Mushmouth-from-Fat-Albert. And then tops it off with a yellow muumuu. Fug!

The judges look at the girls' photos.

You'd never know Joanie was upside down and in pain, that's how good she is.

Jade "looks old." Again. She says something about being "portionable." I don't even know what that's supposed to mean. Is she easily cut into portions?

The judges are getting bored with N4, which is ironic because, when it comes to natural beauty, she's tops. I guess personality goes further than some people might think, eh? They play the snob card again, and Twiggy goes, "I think you're just misunderstood, like Jade is sometimes."

Oh, Twiggy. You're a saint. A naive, simpering saint.

They just can't say enough good things about Danielle.

The judges advise Sara not to say, "I'm intelligent" during an interview. Or ever, really. But they like her.

Furonda is "too dressy" today. She wore a sparkly, black dress to panel and gets spanked for it. Wait, didn't Brooke just get the axe for not looking like a model in person? Make up your fucking minds, people!

Deliberations. Here are a few quotable quotes:

Nigel re: Jade -- "She told us not to judge a book by its cover. But sometimes the cover is more interesting than the contents."

Tyra re: Danielle -- "She's the one to watch."

Twiggy re: Jade -- "I'm afraid of her! Don't leave me in a room with Jade!"

Staying: Danielle, Jade, Sara and Joanie. Final two: Furonada and N4.

Furonda has gone from ugly to pretty, N4 has gone from pretty to boring. And snobby.

Furonda stays. Wow. I mean, I'm happy, but that seems to defy some law of nature, no?

Well, so long, snob! Jade is all alone now. Tear.

Next week: Tempers flair. At Jade. Duh. And someone takes a trip to the E.R.! Cool!

Posted at 02:46 PM | Comments (3)

April 21, 2006

"The Girl Who Has Surgery"

Thanks to last week's previews, we know that this episode of "America's Next Top Model" is about Joanie getting her snaggletooth fixed, and not about Jade finally getting her man-gina.

We open with contrasting interviews. Joanie says she improving and really psyched about it. Brooke says that she sucks and thinks that she's going home.

Nnenna -- okay, I'm just calling her N4 from now on, cuz NNeNNa is really annoying to type. And listen to. She's on the phone with her boyfriend AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! And they're rehashing the N4-kissed-a-male-model thing AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! And BF is all, "I never accused you of anything! I just missed you, DAMMIT!"

And N4's all, "Well, it sure sounded like you were accusing me." And can I just point out here, N4, that if he was accusing you, HE'D BE CORRECT!

Ugh, I hate those two. They make me use all caps an awful lot.

So the girls go to some ad agency, where Jeff the Assistant collects their portfolios. One by one, they meet with DuPriece (sp?) to go over them and see if she wants to book any of them.

DuP tells N4 that she looks like a transvestite, and boy, is she gonna be freaked out when she sees Jade! She also says that N4 needs to work on her flabby stomach. And I'm like, Dude, that's not cool. She's not fat -- she's bloated because, until a couple weeks ago, she was starving to death in Africa or something.

Then Tyra lets us in on another one of her cruel, drama-inducing jokes to tell us that DuP is really an actress pretending to be a modeling tycoon. And can I just add? This actress is ten times more gorgeous than any of the girls, so it's completely within her rights to tear them apart.

She tells Furonda that she's anorexic. But isn't that supposed to be a good thing in modeling?

DuP tells Danielle that she needs to fix that hug gap between her teeth, and Danielle says, "Thank you." And then she hilarious interviews, "What the hell was I thanking her for?!"

Brooke is too masculine. Joanie is too old. (Again -- wait till you see Jade, DuP.)

DuP actually says to Jade that she looks "like a dude." She doesn't like Jade's nose, and she says that Jade's whole look is too harsh. But before I could don my hootchie skirt and flowered headdress for my Dance of Joy, Jade thwarts my celebration by actually... taking it well. She's all, "Yeah, my look is very harsh, very unique. I have a huge forehead, too."

So... Jade knows she ugly? Huh.

Joanie interviews that Jade so often says harsh things to other people, that she's used to harsh things being said to her. Nice spin, Joanie. And probably at least half-true.

Jade wins because she "owns her look." I'd never win -- I rent my look. Jade's allowed to pick a friend (or in Jade's case, someone who hasn't called her a bitch in the past 15 minutes), and she picks N4. Bitches gotta stick together!

Two enormous packages arrive for Jade and N4. Inside one is Jade's mom, and Jade cries, which would have been better if they were tears of agony instead of joy, but I'll take what I can get.

The other one is John, N4's boyfriend, and I cry tears of agony. Somewhere, Jade is laughing. N4, I'd like to introduce you to Karma. N4 interviews that she was hoping it was one of her sisters inside the box. Awk-waaaaaaaaaaard!

Jade's mom gives her a full-body massage, and Jade voice-overs that her mom "pulls the energy of the universe through her hands," as if this were a completely ordinary and normal thing to say. May the force be with you, Jade.

N4 and John rehash the male model kiss again, as my brain cells leap screaming from my skull. There's a lot of John rubbing N4 while she has her face turned away from him.

Then John goes, "As long as it doesn't happen again."

*cricket* *cricket*

The affirmation he's waiting for doesn't come, even after he prompts her with a, "Huh?"

BWAAAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

For the next day's photo shoot, the girls have to be "brainless, living dolls" with perfect hair for Pantene Pro-V. Have you seen the new commercials for their volumizing products? Oh my God, these girls' hair is out of control! It's HUGE! It's TERRIFYING! It will take over the WORLD!

(Geez, this review is long. Feel free to take a nap.)

Okay, doll assignments:

Joanie - Ventriloquist dummy. She got to have a male model with her, and dude's torso was cut. I don't really know why he had to be shirtless, but I'm not complaining.

Sara - Teen fashion doll (i.e. Barbie). She had a difficult time posing inside a box. Um, okay. I guess the word "difficult" is subjective.

Furonda - Rag doll. Jay Manuel was overjoyed with how she was improvising. She did look adorable, and her set was awesome.

Jade - Mannequin. Eerie. And not in a good way.

Brooke - Glam doll (um, isn't that just another Barbie?). She didn't feel glam. Okay, she's sweet, but I'm tired of her milquetoast whining.

N4 - Baby doll. Okay, this was hilarious. If someone gave me a doll that looked like her, I'd cry. Jay wanted a sweet, happy look on her face, so he kept saying, "Think of your boyfriend! He came to see you! Think of your boyfriend!" And N4 kept looking less and less happy. Apparently, Jay doesn't watch the dailies.

Danielle - Marionette. She was really "feeling it," according to Jay. And whereas normally, feeling wooden would be bad in a photo shoot, it worked for this one. Go figure.

Next, the girls get a trip to the dentist for a teeth-whitening. I wonder if they always do this, or if it's special for this episode? Well, I'm not gonna lose sleep over it.

They want to fix Joanie's snaggletooth and close the gap between Daniell's front teeth. Joanie's folks couldn't afford orthodontia, so she's way excited about having her teeth fixed. I'm totally scared for her because I saw last week's previews and OUCH.

Danielle wants to keep her gap. Now, having had a gap before I got braces, I think she's nuts. I was elated to have my gap closed! But she's owning her gap, I guess, so that's cool. However, it's also a stupid move on her part, considering how pissy Tyra gets when the girls don't follow her orders and change their appearances according to her whims and fancies.

And then they showed Joanie's teeth being pulled outta her head. They showed it! There wasn't even any Parents' Warning at the beginning of the show! This show contains scenes of gross dentistry and shouldn't be viewed by anyone who has ever gone to the dentist. Gah!!!

She's also getting veneers, which means her teeth are filed down to nubs, basically. It's all very medieval and horrifying. I have my hands over my eyes for most of it.

At 3:30 a.m., Joanie says to the camera, fighting back the tears, "I have been in this chair for twelve hours. And I have to get up and model tomorrow!"

Her fears are well-grounded, as she looks like a carnie.

Next -- Club Move. Who names these things? Janice is there! JANICE!!! That crazy bitch is doing her own ANTM spin-off, you know. I CAN'T WAIT!

Oh, and Eva is with her, too. Blech. The girls stand around and ask Eva questions, like, "What's the best advice you can give us?"

And instead of saying, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" Eva blathers on about confidence. Blah blah boring.

Then comes Janice to talk to them about The Ugly Side of Modeling. And she talks about her alcoholism and feeling guilty when she's not with her kids, and I just so want to hang with her. There isn't anything this woman won't talk about, and I dig that!

Then they have a photo shoot directed by Tyra in which they wear tons of eye make-up and are crying. Only instead of having to whip-up real tears, Tyra rubs a "tear stick" on their eyes, which is akin to Vicks VapoRub. In your eyes.

N4 cried for real. She said she was thinking about her family, but we all know she was still disappointed about having her boyfriend visit her instead of her sister.

Joanie also cries for real, but it's because she just had TWELVE HOURS OF ORAL SURGERY. She is gorgeous and a trooper and I love her more with each passing day. (Mollie Sue who?)

Afterwards, she gets to go back to the dentist and get her veneers on. She looks great! She's so happy, and I'm so happy for her! Group hug!

As she's leaving, the dentist goes, "You know, what you've been through has felled many a large man."

And she's all sassy, "Well, ya gotta be tough to be a model!"

She's my hero.

This is getting ridiculously long. Let's wrap this up.

Brooke interviews that she thinks she's going home because she had another sucky photo shoot. N4 thinks she's going home because she's letting her boyfriend get to her. Awwwww, can't they both be right?

Judging. You can flip through their crying photos on your own.

Furonda is developing well. Unfortunately, this does not mean she has actually grown breasts. Brooke is too nervous and needs too much direction. Joanie's teeth are a work of art. Danielle's shots are beautiful, but her gap-tooth isn't marketable. Jade... oh, it's just too good.

Jade "breaks down" and cries during judging about being in emotional turmoil or whatever. And Tyra TOTALLY CALLS HER ON IT! Tyra's like, "Bullshit! Bad acting!" She even notes that the girls behind Jade were rolling their eyes when she started crying. Burn! Unfortunately, they love her photos.

Sara isn't passionate, but she disagrees -- respectfully -- saying that she has grown more passionate about modeling with every shoot.

N4 has the best crying photo, but the worst doll shot. And honestly, with her wide eyes and toothy grin, I thought N4 would have made the best doll. Tyra asks her if she has "lost focus." And N4 is all, "I never had a baby doll."

Which is probably supposed to tug at our heartstrings, but Tyra pulls out the awesomeness for the second time is all, "Yeah, but you've seen one, right? You know what a baby doll looks like?"

Judges deliberate, and it's more of what we already know they think of the girls, and no quotable quotes because Janice isn't there.

In: Joanie, Furonda, N4, Sara and Danielle. Tyra tells Danielle, in no uncertain terms, that she really should get her gap closed.

Final two: Jade and Brooke. Tyra saw fake tears, arrogance and defensiveness. But it's Brooke that goes home. Know why? I know why. Because Tyra wants to break Jade down. Jade isn't going home until Tyra can tear her apart and make her cry for real. I sense another Mama Tyra Counseling Session coming on.

Brooke is very resigned in her departing interview and doesn't even cry. Also? Her dress is fabulous.

Next week: Sara the Mall Girl has to prove herself. Danielle has to make a decision about her tooth-gap. And the girls pack their bags for... oh, I don't know. Finland?

P.S. Pissy and sucky are not in the Microsoft Spellcheck Dictionary.

Posted at 01:54 PM | Comments (3)

April 13, 2006

"The Girl Who Has a Temper"

Previously on "America's Next Top Model"... ah, read it yourself.

We open to see Jade crying -- music to my ears. She's upset about being in the bottom two during the last elimination. It fails to tug on my heart strings.

Brooke's crying, too, about... something. Pressure. I don't know. Apparently, she cries a lot, and Nnenna thinks it's hilarious. We flashback to Nnenna laughing audibly at Brooke's commercial during judging last week. Ouch.

Suddenly, Miss J. appears, and now I'm crying. He has a bunch of accessories -- i.e. gloves, jackets -- for another runway class. The girls need to learn how to unbutton a jacket while walking. *gasp* Geez, he couldn't start with chewing gum while walking first? I mean, these girls aren't stunt men! Won't someone please think of the children?!

They walk. They unbutton. They take off gloves. Brooke sucks at it, and Nnenna laughs.

I'd just like to point out that I can walk to my car while talking on my cell phone, getting my car keys outta my purse, putting my gloves on, flipping off a Verizon employee who's driving too fast and "working" my "signature walk."

Miss J. announces that they're going to meet "The Twirlers." Isn't that the name of Stephen King's latest book? Oh, please, God, let them be midget circus clowns.

Instead, they are gay, black twins in capes. Close enough. Jade immediately identifies with them. Vomit. They say "heighth" instead of "height."

The Twirlers show the girls a move called "The Swirl." Having seen The Girl Child do it a million times in the middle of the living room, I'm not terribly impressed.

Back at the ranch, the girls are pissed that Nnenna is hogging the phone. Cripes, don't tell me she's on with that boyfriend of hers some more. I'm starting to think that she's getting-off on his sickening, pathetic need for her. Ick.

Brooke waits until Nnenna hangs up the phone to confront her on a couple issues, like her hogging the phone, and her laughing at Brooke all the time. I have to hand it to Brooke -- talking to Nnenna about it is way better than the girls' usual M.O., i.e. bitching behind one anothers' backs.

However, Nnenna isn't impressed with Brooke's maturity, picks up the phone again and starts dialing in the middle of Brooke's sentence. Rude!

Brooke storms outta the phone room, yelling at Nnenna and calling her a BITCH! Whoooooooooot! The other girls are shocked that quiet, sensitive Brooke lost her shit. I say good for her!

Apparently, Nnenna eventually gets off the phone and Sara gets on. She tells her boyfriend that all these other girls have been modeling for years, and she feels like she has to work extra hard to prove herself because the ANTM people found her in a mall. Whatev.

Church fashion show! Seriously, it's a fashion show in a church. The minister says that it's a tradition in the black community because it used to be that black people weren't allowed at fashion shows. Huh. Learn something new every day.

They'll be modeling swirling clothes and diamonds, and the winner gets a $25,000 diamond ring. I gotta say, that's a pretty fucking awesome prize, man.

The outfits are black and white, turbins, flowy, scarves, heels, diamonds. Actually, kinda bland. Except for Nnenna, who gets a kickass corset. And Jade, who gets a black cape, befitting her vampiric nature.

And Jade wins, causing me to question God, the universe, and all that is righteous and true. Well, they gave her the best outfit, and she's a goddamn drag queen, so of course she swirled the best.

Jade also gets to pick two girls to get smaller, less expensive diamond rings. $15,000 and $8,000, to be exact. Husband has conveniently nodded off during this segment. She picks Furonda and Nnenna. Jade's a racist.

On the ride home, all the crackers talk about how it's all well and good that Jade and Nnenna got diamonds because they're not going to win the competition. And then they have a light snack of sour grapes.

At the house, Brooke feels bad for calling Nnenna a bitch, which means she can no longer be my hero. Because, if you're going to call someone a bitch, you gotta stand by your proclamation.

Relevent to nothing, know what I wanna see? I wanna see all the previous seasons' winners competing for "The World's Next Top Model." Who are they again? Have to look it up... Adrianne, Yoanna, Eva, Naima, Nicole and Joanie. Because Joanie's my current pick for winner, especially considering the shit she goes thru next week.

Commercials. The makers of "Bring It On" now bring us "Stick It." I am so there. Heather, you're going to have to come with me.

Anyhoo, today, the girls are doing a shoot for Payless Shoes. Just when I thought Tyra couldn't stoop any lower. They try to validate Payless by saying they're "inspired by the runway," but we all know that means "cheap knock-offs."

The girls are also going to be "crumping," which is some new form of crazy dancing, apparently done by men in clown make-up. I'm going to wake-up screaming every night this week, I just know it.

And the photographer who is going to lend the shoot an "urban edge?" A white boy named Trevor. *sigh*

Jay kindly gives Brooke a pep-talk before her shoot, and even manages not to be condescending and flippant. He must've gotten laid.

Danielle confesses to Tyra that the girls in her neighborhood call her "white girl" because she can't dance. RACIST! Okay, I'm totally calling Nicholle "Black Girl" from now on. But Danielle was just being modest because she looks the least foolish of all the girls. And while this little blurbie does nothing to further the show's drama, I felt it noteworthy because -- MODESTY! When do we ever get to see that on this show!

Jade interviews that this crumping photo shoot is totally her "gendre." I think she means "genre," but at least she's trying. Furonda must've put Word-a-Day toilet paper in the bathroom.

When the girls are all done, Jade wonders aloud "how Sara's height looked in the pictures." Ah, Jade sharpens her fangs for another victim.

At judging, the girls have to do some random turntable pose, which is not worth recapping. Suffice to say, they all sucked.

Okay, Furonda's photo is just awesome, and the judges love it. I have to say, she's growing on me, too.

Brooke's photo is hott, and I like her, so I'm glad she has finally made good on all this "potential" the judges keep talking about.

Joanie is adorable. I hope she wins. Which probably means she's doomed to be cut next week.

The judges say that Jade "photographs old," because SHE IS! Seriously, if you haven't become a model by 26, give it up. It's not gonna happen. Go work at the DMV.

The judges also love Nnenna's photo, but I think she looks kinda clownish. Also? She's a fake.

Final discussion: Furonda has a paralyzed right arm; Danielle's skin is ashy; Jade is old; Leslie looks good in print but not in person; Nnenna is bland; Sara should go back to the mall; Brooke is broke-down and needs fixing; Joanie gets a "Bravo!"

It's Sara and Leslie in the final two, and -- how the hell is it not Jade and Brooke? I mean, I like Brooke, but this just seems so random!

And Leslie goes home. More randomness.

Next week: Jade gets called "mannish," and Joanie endures twelve hours of dental work so Nigel doesn't have to endure her snaggletooth anymore.

Posted at 01:05 PM | Comments (0)

April 07, 2006

"The Girl With Two Bad Takes"

I think the title of this episode of "Not America's Next Top Best Friend" would have been more helpful if they had narrowed it down to "The Girl Without Two Bad Takes." I'm just sayin'.

We open with Mollie Sue being upset about the judges not seeing her personality. And am I wrong, or isn't that a complaint usually saved for the plus-sized models? Well, since there are none this season, I guess that role has been thrust upon Mollie Sue. Poor thing. C'mere and let me comfort you.

Nnenna's on the phone with her jackass boyfriend, and he's all, "What about me? What about how I feel? What about me?" Dude, seriously, you might need that last tiny shred of dignity someday, so shut up.

Wisely, Nnenna has had enough and announces, to no one in particular, that "it's over." But Jade, needing a new toy to gnaw on now that Gina is gone, counsels Nnenna to try and work it out with Jackass.

Furonda and Danielle both interview the obvious -- that Jade is working Nnenna.

So the girls are whisked away to yet another meeting with Tyra in her green room. And the collapsing? Yeah, it's Tyra. And the girls freak. And I get my hopes up. And when no one from the film crew rushes to help her, the girls still don't get that it's a total fake-out.

When Tyra pops back up and announces that it's Acting Week, the girls do not laugh with her, as she quite obviously expected. Furonda cries, and they all look at Tyra like she's completely whacked and/or really, really mean. And they're right.

But to make up for emotionally scarring these easily-deluded girls, she gives them gifts of pink wife-beaters with their names on them and matching panties. Add a babushka and kneesocks, and Jade has another complete outfit in which to lurk about the house.

So the girls are taken to some improv place that's apparently totally famous, but hell if I care enough to remember the name. During the brief, preliminary exercises, their improv host tells Jade, "Sometimes it's not about yoooooooouuuuuuuuu." And I love him immediately.

Back at the house, Nnenna's on the phone with Jackass AGAIN. Begging the question -- WHY does she keep CALLING him?! For everyone's sake, just STOP THE INSANITY! In a very creepy move, Jade is actually in the room with Nnenna, listening and writing down things for her to say to him. Ew, ew, ew.

Not that I need to spell it out for you, but clearly, Jade wants Nnenna to stay in the relationship because Jade finally figured out that Nnenna is her biggest competition, so she wants to keep Nnenna distracted and depressed.

And just when you thought Jade couldn't get any more ooky, it's time for their challenge. They go back to the improv place, divide into two teams, and take turns jumping through the various improv hoops that their host sets up for them. The prize? A guest spot on the t.v. show "Veronica Mars." And how cool would it be to see an ANTM girl playing a cadaver?! Too cool for it to actually happen.

Predictably, none of the girls are as funny as me. Jade just sucks. They play The Question Game (as often seen on "What's My Line?"), and Jade can't form a question. Let me repeat that. Jade doesn't know how to form a question. Even after being told, "Start with who, what, where, when or why, and you can't go wrong." She goes wrong. It's awesome.

Also? Jade has no sense of humor, so she falls back on what she does know -- cruelty. The girls have to rap, so Jade makes up some non-rhyming thing about Furonda's face being "lumpy," then reloads and goes on to insult Sara.

Everyone is horrified and uncomfortable. Awesomely, the girls on Furonda and Sara's team gang-up on Jade and all rap about how awful she is. Retaliation -- it's a good thing.

Afterwards, Jade interviews that the reason she sucked ass at improvisation is that she "needed more direction," which is the hugest cop-out ever. And then she says that she's surprised that Nnenna could stay focused during the challenge. Well, way to expose your evil plan, Jade. Not that we hadn't guessed it before the first commercial break, but really. Why don't you just rub your hands together and cackle maniacally, for God's sake?

Proof that there is still a God -- Furonda wins the challenge, and picks Nnenna as her guest. Jade seethes, and baby angels sing.

On the ride home, Joanie, Sara and Mollie Sue rag on Jade's behavior. Um, are the limos segregated? Because these three are the only ones in the car. Weird.

I don't know how it begins, but back at the house, Furonda and Jade are having a discussion about Jade's behavior. For the billionth time, Jade explains that, when people first meet her, they think she's a bitch, but everyone who really knows her knows that she's "real." Yeah, a real bitch. I'm sure by "everyone," she means her cat.

During this, Furonda says something about Jade's bullshit being a facade. Jade has never heard this word before and, I think, goes so far as to accuse Furonda of making it up. Furonda cannot disguise her contempt as the entire world screams, "READ A BOOK, JADE!"

The more I see of Furonda, the more I can forgive her ugliness.

Meanwhile, Nnenna's Jackass is all, "Look at you, ripping my heart out! Why? Can't? You? Love? Me?" Dude has issues.

As part of their prize, Nnenna and Furonda get to do a Public Service Announcement for AIDS awareness, which is pretty cool. And they kinda suck, but that's okay.

Furonda does "Veronica Mars" where she's a secretary or something. I don't watch it, so I don't care.

Then it's time to shoot a Cover Girl commercial. Oh, this is gonna be nothin' but bad.

Most of the girls suckity-suck-suck-SUCK, and they all congregate in the Post-Shoot Room or whatever and cry about it. Then Nnenna bursts in and goes, "I did great! How did you guys do?"

Mollie Sue actually shoots death-lasers out of her eyes.

Back in the holding tank, Jade watches Brook's shoot and laughs, "Brook just breaks."

Now, what she says is true, but still. Laughing is mean, and Brook is nice. The producers really don't miss a chance to show us every side of Jade's evilness.

Then it's Jade's turn. And whereas Jay and the director guy had only pity for the other girls, for Jade, there is only laughter. Uncontrollable, malevolent laughter. Instant karma, baby.

Jay goes, "She's a drag queen!"

Then? Jade not only flubs her lines; she swears. Gasp! Cover Girls don't swear! I don't care what you've heard about Queen Latifa!

Afterwards, Jade AGAIN says that she "needed more direction." Um, remember your lines and don't swear. Is that good enough direction for you, dearie? Ah, yes, Jade's delusion that her failure is everyone's fault but her own continues. And the other girls flee the hot tub to escape her, leaving her alone with everyone who thinks she's "real."

*cricket* *cricket*

Judging! The panel reviews the girls' commercials. Apparently, each girl got two takes, and the judges are seeing what Jay and the director thought was each girl's best take.

Mollie looked scary. Danielle has to get rid of her hillbilly accent. Furonda did a pretty good job. Brook had dreadful stage fright. Nnenna lacked grace. Joanie lacked sophistication. Leslie did well. Sara had a drink in her hand the whole time. Jade--

"You guys used my worst take!"

[sound of needle scratching on record]

Oh, NO! SHE! DI'IN'T!

Well, Miss Tyra does not like that kind of back-talk at all. So she calls Jade out and says, "The director said that BOTH your takes were bad."

I clap gleefully and do a happy dance, waking Daisy and frightening Husband.

THEN! As if my cup did not already runneth over. Tyra takes it even further and tells Jade she looked "very draggish."

And my life is complete!

The final two come down to Jade and Mollie Sue. And Mollie Sue goes home because it's better to have a shitty personality than no personality. Apparently. Mollie Sue is, understandably, shocked and bitter about losing to a bitchy drag queen.

Next week: Brook gets pissed at Nnenna. For what? Hogging the phone? Snoring? I just can't imagine there's going to be anything exciting between those two. And if that's the best teaser they can come up with for next week, I'm not excited.

Posted at 03:06 PM | Comments (1)

"The Girl Who Kissed a Male Model"

Well, since this week's "America's Next Top Tool" is already past, I'd better set to the arduous task of reviewing last week's episode. You were waiting with bated breath, I know.

Nnenna's on the phone with her boyfriend, and although she's surrounded 24/7 by women and gay men, he's grilling her about flirting with other guys.

Lemme guess which girl kisses a male model.

I had a boyfriend like that, looooooooong time ago. He even went so far to say that, if I put any effort at all into my appearance -- i.e. make-up, cute clothes -- then I was just a slut inviting the attentions of other men. Needless to say, I threw myself at the first guy who actually told me I looked "beautiful" when I put effort into my appearance.

Bad approach, Nnenna's Boyfriend. Now the entire world knows what an asshat you are. In your defense, however, it's clear from looking at your video that you're NEVER, EVER going to get another woman as awesome as Nnenna. No wonder you're so paranoid.

Danielle's toe looks bad, and she's still on crutches.

And then...

JANICE!!!

She's going to be teaching Posing Class, and "Alcoholic Bitch" Lisa from last season is with her. They're lovers, you just know it.

The girls talk with Janice, and Jade says she thinks she "clicks" with Janice. Oh, you wish, Ferret-Eyes.

For some reason, Janice makes Gina hop up and down on one foot while laughing. I think there was some point to it, like Gina needs to be able to laugh at herself, but the connection was not real clear to anyone who hadn't had three martinis beforehand.

After Posing Class, the girls all have lunch with Janice. Gina's sitting next to her, so Janice asks Gina which girl is posing a problem in the house. Because Janice has been on enough of these shows to know that Tyra always picks some crazy bitch purely for the drama factor.

Gina, of course, because she has never seen an episode of ANTM in her life and doesn't know Janice's Golden Rule, breaks bad on Jade.

The look on Jade's face here is priceless. The shock, the hurt, the wide-eyed innocense. HA! I wanna see her name on the next Emmy ballot.

But it's Gina that Janice goes ballistic on, for talking smack about another girl. Gina is confused that someone would ask her a question they didn't really want an answer to, and Janice, hilariously, tells Gina, "You're dead to me!"

You can almost hear Jade climaxing off-screen. It's her Dear Diary moment, and she can now die a happy ferret.

Back at the house, Gina cries about Janice's treatment of her (not realizing that that's what we depend on Janice for) and finds Jade sitting on her bed. If Jade had peed on Gina's pillow, it couldn't have been any more blatant a challenge.

I really kinda hate that the other girls don't back up Gina. I know she's supposed to be able to stand up for herself, but, were I there, I'd at least call Jade on her feigned innocense.

Finally, Gina grows a set and tells Jade off. Badly. Lamely. Unconvincingly. But hey, it's a baby-step in the right direction. And at least none of the other girls defend Jade.

Gee, Special K, product placement much?

The challenge today is a shoot for Sears. There are four sets of clothes and four backgrounds -- one for each season. The girls have to pick an outfit and some poses for each season, and they're being timed because, we are told ad nauseum, TIME IS MONEY.

Jade goes first. God, she really is fugly. When it's Gina's turn, Jade's eyes narrow into little slits, and she watches Gina like a jackal. Jade has culled the weakest from the pack and is anticipating her evisceration.

Well, screw them both. Nnenna wins again! Yay! And she wins ALL the clothes from the shoot that day! And seriously, there are a TON of clothes. But Nnenna probably sent them all to poor people in Africa, or sold them on eBay and donated the profits to AIDS research. Because that's the kind of gal Nnenna is. And you didn't see that on the show because Sears was pissed that some gorgeous model wasn't going to be wearing their clothes in public.

Nnenna calls The Boyfriend to share the good news, and again he starts in with the badgering and clinging and whining and ohforfuckssake shut UP already!!!! What does she see in this guy? He must be really hung because he can't have a conversation without accusing her or something. She hangs up on him. Pure. Awesome.

In another blatant promo for Tyra's show, the girls are taken to her studio so Mother Hen Tyra can counsel them on career choices between tapings of her other show. Barf.

Most of the girls want to be lawyers. HA! Jade wants to be a kindergarten teacher because she loves children. Medium rare.

Danielle voices the thoughts of parents around the globe, "I'd home-school my kids before I'd send them to Jade's class."

Well, apparently, all this talk has a reason behind it, unlike 99% of what goes on with this show. And that reason is to make the girls "act out their future dreams" in their shoot. But it also has to be "edgey." So, you know, "whore-y."

Also? There are male models involved, and they all have very male-model-y names like JT and Vaughn and Zane. How come you never see male models named Bob?

The girls don't try for one minute to conceal their drooling. Really classy.

The girls all pose. You can click through their photos here. I'm not linking individually cuz they really didn't do much for me this week. Except this one of Jade, which just makes me hate her all the more.

During the shoot, there was a lot of "chemistry" (i.e. "horniness") between Nnenna and her token piece of meat. And in the final frame of their set, they kiss. No tongues, they're in front of two dozen people, but apparently, it's a BIG EFFING DEAL.

Now, I can understand how you wouldn't want to kiss every male model you worked with because you'd get a reputation as a tramp. But seriously, in light of Kate Moss' recent escapades -- and in light of Shandi nailing that Italian model in the hot tub or whatever -- it's so not a big deal.

Well, okay, it might have been a big deal to the guy, who "pitched a tent, and not the kind you sleep in," according to Joanie. Awkward!

In closing, is it any wonder Nnenna threw herself at this guy who made her feel fabulous and forgot the guy who makes her feel smothered? No, no it isn't. And I don't know why the other girls are all, "Girl, you'd better call your boyfriend." What do they care? Earth to models! Nnenna's boyfriend is a JACKASS!

But Nnenna stupidly calls him and confesses to him anyway, and he reacts so predictibly that I'm not even going to bother describing it.

During judging, Jade is much nicer in front of the judges and doesn't argue with their critiques of her. One of them comments on her change, but Tyra says, "But we don't know what's going on back at the house."

Really, Tyra? You don't watch the dailies? Nah, she's on to Jade. Tyra may be nuts, but she's not stupid.

In the end, the judges can finally no longer deny Gina's ugliness and stupidity, so she gets to go home. Or go be euthanized. Whatever.

In the next episode, someone collapses. Wait, didn't we just do collapsing two seasons ago? Yawn.

Posted at 07:52 AM | Comments (0)

March 29, 2006

"The Girl Who Kissed a Roach"

I was hoping this "America's Next Top Model" episode's title was some sort of euphemism for smoking a joint, and we were going to see the girls intert, bloated on Cheetos, and debating who would win in a fight -- YaYa or Camille. Sadly, this was not the case.

(Actually, this was last week's episode, but since I was riding the Maelstrom at the time of it's airing -- again, not a euphemism -- I had to catch the rerun last night.)

Oh, and I found out from Television Without Pity that the girls are living in the house where the Black Dahlia was supposedly murdered. My first reaction is that this is some sort of foreshadowing of events to come, but I doubt we could get that lucky.

Anyhoo, this is the none-of-these-bitches-knows-how-to-walk episode, featuring Miss J., whose position on this show has officially outgrown his ability, or like-ability, for that matter. And his critiques of the girls' walks are so vague, I find myself yearning for the explicit direction of Jay Manuel, "Bring it! Think of the desert! Have a thought in your head!"

So they do some runway modeling for Jared Gold, whose clothes are supposed to be crazy and edgey and intimidating and YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS FASHION! But they're really just hideous.

(Is it just me, or does Kari look like "The Corpse Bride"?)

Jade and Jared set the stage for their still-to-come fag-hag-tranny love-fest by having a little exchange wherein Jade informs Jared that her look is "eccentric and fierce" or "strong and weird" or some such shit, and Jared is all, "Omigod! Mine, too! Let's be BFFs forever!"

Now, here's my take on this. If, indeed, you do have "a look," is that something you need to tell someone, if you are, at that moment, standing six inches away from them?

I mean, I don't walk up to people and go, "Hey, I'm a large-breasted blonde with a girl-next-door vibe." Because I'm assuming they can see that. And if they're blind, well, they can just grope me or whatever.

But if you have to tell a non-blind someone what your "look" is..., well, I think you know where I'm going with this. Jade should have just said, "I know I look like a walking Q-tip, but please don't use my head to feather your eye-liner, Jared."

The girls' runway walks are judged by Jared and his little clique of "stylists." Now, really. Are these people anything more than assholes in shitty clothes who like to tell you that your clothes are shitty? And if so, where do I get an application?

So the girls wear his fugly clothes and walk for his fugly friends, and the added glitch is that they have to have a little bejeweled Giant Madagascar Hissing Cockroach on a leash because OH MY GOD! THAT'S INSANE! WILL THE FASHION WORLD STOP AT NOTHING?! And oh, the faux-hype. I'm on the edge of my seat. *zzzzzzzzzzz*

Of course, you know there's gonna be the one girl who freaks out, just like the one with the fear of heights, and the one with the fear of snakes, and the one with the fear of spiders. And predictably, it's Gina because they're trying to make me hate her so much that I actually start rooting for Jade to beat her down. It's all a conspiricy.

Jade kisses the roach. That's right. She kisses it. Because, even though she's ugly and bitchy and delusional, she's smart enough to know that that's the kind of weird-ass fetish that's going to get Jared all worked up.

And it does. Jared pops a stiffy while gushing his critique on Jade's performance, proving once and for all that Jade is, indeed, a man. She wins the challenge, and Gina's disgust is awesomely palpable. I love how the editors always cut to her reaction whenever a scene focuses on Jade.

On the phone that night, Jade whines to daddy that the other girls "mistake her confidence for arrogance." Again? Delusional. And again? Confidence means that you don't have to shove your "confidence" down everyone's throat all the time.

[God, this recap is getting so long, and I'm only halfway done! A testimony to my love/hate relationship with the show, I guess. Oh, did I mention that Husband watches it, too? Cuz he totally does, and don't let him deny it. This is his third season!]

Then comes what turns out to be my favorite photo shoot EVAH. (Well, second only to the 40's pin-up/muscle car shoot. Go ahead, click through them -- I'll wait...)

This shoot explored the underlying sexual themes of the fairy tales of yore. In a completely artistic and tasteful way, of course. There were so many corsets and poofy shirts and boots and bloomers, I thought I was at a pirate wench convention!

Brooke was The Emperor's New Clothes, which is about a man, and then they got all up in her face again about being tranny. Seriously, what did they expect?!

Danielle was Snow Black (because you know it would have killed Tyra to have Snow White). She looked amazing, as usual.

Furonda was a big Meh as Rapunzel.

Gina was Sleeping Beauty, and the one time she looks kinda cute, they yell at her for looking cute instead of "sleepy."

Jade was miscast as Little Red Riding Hood, when she should have been the big, bad wolf. The judges practically lick her photo.

Joanie, whom the judges normally like, got panned as Cinderella cuz the up-do really enhances her jaw. Plus, her dress is totally boring, no? And where's the tiara?

Kari got type-cast as Goldilocks, which really isn't going to help her break out of the "commercial" box they put her in. What -- she couldn't be Snow Black?

Leslie was the Big, Bad Wolf. Insert "eating" joke here. Too bad her boots got cropped outta the photo cuz they were brown and suede and fabulous!

Because they love her androdginous look so much, they made Mollie Sue Little Boy Blue. Which isn't so much a fairy tale as it is a nursery rhyme, and I would have made her the Little Mermaid, but whatever. Nothing these people do makes any sense. Tyra says Mollie's nose looks tense. (Hee! That rhymed!)

Nnenna was The Princess and the Pea or The Princess Who Kissed a Frog or something. I don't even know anymore. Dress 10; looks 3.

Sara was Gretal, sans Hansel, and why didn't they just have Brooke be Hansel? LOVE the dirndl SO MUCH! They hate her face. I hate her hair.

Then comes the judging and the final challenge, which is really the most horrible, unfair thing I've ever seen on this show. I mean, I've seen them make a girl whose best friend just died pose in a coffin at the bottom of a grave, and that still wasn't as mean as this.

They had to walk in front of the panel in these platform shoes, famous for making a world-famous model fall on her ass in the middle of a fashion show. Cuz that's fair. And not at all likely to end in injury. WHICH IT DID.

Dr. Nick and his assistant proclaimed Danielle's pinky toe "strained... sprained." But dudes, I saw her fall, and girl was a lot more messed up than that. Still, she sucked it up, smiled and hobbled like a trooper on her crutches. Smart girl -- the judges love that. Smile through the pain, honey!

After all the girls were done -- some for the better, some for the worse -- Tyra proclaimed, "That was the most nerve-wracking challenge we've ever done! I didn't breathe the whole time!" Bitch. I mean, I know it's hard to come up with new and exciting drama for us blood-thirsty viewers, but that was just plain mean. I wanna see Miss J. walk in those shoes.

In the final two -- Kari and Gina. And when Tyra handed Gina her photo, Gina looked even more shocked and confused than Kari did. And, indeed, Gina's self-loathing reflected the loathing we all feel for her. And isn't that what this is all about? Sisterhood.

Tonight: JANICE, bitches! Thank God.

Posted at 12:05 PM | Comments (1)

March 16, 2006

"The Girl Who Is a True Miss Diva"

Um, could you narrow it down a wee bit for us, Miss Tyra? The "America's Next Top Model" girls who are not divas is a much shorter list, a list that starts and ends with Nnenna.

But I guess they were referencing Furonda, whom Miss J. aptly dubbed "E.T. with a wig." She showed up at the house with a list she'd typed up, one copy for each girl, of her rules. The rules included stuff like:

1. The best person to discuss me with is me. [The underlines are hers.]

2. I will treat you exactly the same way you treat me, or worse.

3. Do not be all up in my business unless I invite you there.

Upon first glance, yes, this looks totally obnoxious, and had I been there, I would have been mocking Furonda right along with the rest of them, preferrably from the comfort of Mollie Sue's lap.

But after thinking about it a bit, I have to admit that Furonda's rules are little more than common decency, disguised in ebonics. Clearly, the girl has done her homework and watched the show. She knows what's coming. Unfortunately, her little list isn't going to be able to stop it, as the next scene we see is several of the girls sitting around talking about the ones who aren't there.

But isn't that why we tune in? Yes. Yes, it is. So shut up, Furonda! And beam your stupid rules back to The Mother Ship.

The makeover episode is always my favorite because there's always at least one girl who hates her haircut and cries, which is awesome. Which, in turn, pisses off Jay Manuel, which is even more awesome.

Although, I have to say, compared to previous seasons, these makeovers, as a whole, weren't very drastic. For example, they made the Asian girl's hair darker and straighter. Quel surprise!

They really screwed up Sara's hair. If there are two things we learned from Yoanna, it's a) you can have back fat and still be America's Next Top Model; and b) the mohawk thing doesn't work.

Mollie Sue got the Mia Farrow haircut that went unfulfilled for Tyra last season. And she looks AMAZING and even more minx-like. Hey, is a that a tattoo on the inside of her right wrist? Kewl.

Another fav -- they buzzed Nnenna's head, and she looks even MORE feminine and gorgeous. How does that happen? So far, my money's on her for winner.

And because Miss Tyra doesn't disappoint, she took the girl she hated most and totally fucked with her. In the spirit of giving Miss Beauty Pagaent a boy-cut, they cut Jade's 'fro and dyed it yellow, with matching eyebrows.

Oh, they said it was "honey," and indeed it sort of looks okay in her makeover photo. But it was yellow, my friends. Yellow, yellow, yellow. Yellow like a used Q-tip. Yellow like the bile that spills forth whenever she opens her pie-hole.

Jade HHHHHHHHHHATED it. And the little fairies of delight joined hands and did Ring-Around-the-Rosie around my heart!

Later, sporting her Q-tip head, panties and a bubushka, Jade sat outside the telephone room and bitched about how she hasn't been able to talk to her family all day, not since the makeover, which she so clearly wants to bitch about to ears more sympathetic than her fellow wanna-bes, who have this irritating habit of laughing whenever she talks.

(Wow. That was a really long sentence. I'm sure Gina would have gotten lost halfway through.)

So Wendy is on the phone with her Mom, who is talking about the eight and a half feet of water in their Katrina-beset home.

Outside the door, Jade is all, "I haven't been on the phone all day."

Like that's anyone's fault but her own? I have a hard time believing she was first in line all day, and the other girls kept cutting in front of her.

Hey, Jade, if you wanna talk on the phone, how about getting in line before 10:00 at night? And then? How about politely waiting your turn instead of harassing the person who got there before you? You know, if you hadn't spent so much time throwing a jealous tantrum over Furonda's extensions, you could be on the phone right now!

But you're not. So suck it up, bitch. And try to comprehend that there may be more pressing conversations than the one about your fugly hairstyle.

And then Jade gets on the phone and is like, "These other girls are obnoxious."

Holy crap.

The drama continued when Wendy and Jade went head-to-head in the Final Two. My heart sank as soon as I saw that because you know they're gonna keep Jade around for as long as possible. Poor Wendy got sent back to her aqua-house, and Jade's ferret eyes will still be around to chill our blood next week.

Posted at 09:23 AM | Comments (0)

March 09, 2006

"The Girls Go Bald"

No, not my step-daughters. And my hogans are already bald, thankyouverymuch. No, I'm talkin' 'bout the po', delusional girls who want to be "America's Next Top Model." Anyway, I didn't name the episode -- Tyra did.

Ever since I started a blog, I've been wanting to share my thoughts and passion regarding "America's Next Top [Unemployed] Model." But I know it only appeals to a small, deeply deranged percentage of my audience, so I couldn't very well make it a regular part of my blog.

Instead, I'm making it an irregular part of my blog. An "extra," if you will. Every Thursday or Friday, in addition to my regular blogging activities. Feel free to ignore them.

That said, here's my thoughts on this season's gaggle of wanna-bes, in no particular order:

Brooke: Scares the shit outta me with that monster chin, but I like her in spite of it... no, perhaps because of it. She'll be out early, tho', cuz she has no idea what she's doing. Loved the Daisy Duke outfit.

Danielle: Face in serious need of electrolysis and some anti-yellowing agent, but pretty and knows how to work the poses. Could be in the race for a while, probably even to The Final Three.

Furonda: Tyra, what the hell is she doing on this show? Clearly this season's token She-Male. (S)he makes the Chin Monster look delicate and feminine. You're outta here, Furonda, and take your stupid, made-up name with you. Oh, wait, I guess I gotta give her props for hugging Kathy at the end. That was sporting.

Gina: Of all the gorgeous Asian women out there, they pick this broad. I don't care how big her cheekbones are -- she's homely. I was hoping she would alcohol-poison herself right outta the competition.

Jade: Oh, now this bitch is a piece of work. Whatever happened to winning by just doing your best? What's the point of shitting on your competition? Clearly this season's token Angry African American Woman. Camille and YaYa welcome you, Jade. And of course, they'll keep her around for a while, purely for the drama. Certainly not because of her beady, feral eyes.

Joanie: I want to dismiss her for her bland, mall-rat looks, but she takes a good photo. Maybe her make-over will fix her hair. LOOOOOOOVE the make-over episode!

Leslie: I like her. If for no other reason than nothing about her bugs the shit outta me.

Kari: I was thinking Kewpie doll, but then the judges, in their infinite wisdom, compared her to a Bratz doll, and I almost peed in my pants. I think she's more porn star than high fashion.

Kathy: Yuck. So glad she's gone. Her voice was so ingratiating, and her face was so pinched. Like a redneck Nicole Kidman.

Mollie Sue: Oh, how I love her. Mollie, Mollie, Mollie. She looks like a sweet little kitten who is just about to snap and scratch your eyes out. *sigh* But she's "robotic," according to Tyra. And you know, if you're not acting like a fool, challenging the other girls to "Bring it!" every three seconds, or willing to cry every time to talk to Tyra, you're "robotic" -- and you're out. So farewell, sweet, sweet Mollie.

Nnenna: The current front-runner, due, in part, to her African-themed sob-story, which Tyra just ATE UP. I'm picking her for The Final Three.

Sara: Another mall-rat with bad roots. Nice lips, tho'. Um... I can't think of a damn thing to say about her.

Wendy: Oh my God, this competition is going to eat her alive. This Hurricane Katrina survivor might have stood a chance if Nnenna hadn't one-upped her on The Pity Scale. But now she's just "that sad girl with no eyelashes."

Two other thoughts...

These girls are sluttier than usual. It sure didn't take this particular group of ladies long to get naked with each other. Most of the time, they make us wait until the third or fourth episode. Hopefully, the token Lesbian/Bi-Sexual will reveal herself soon.

These girls are dumber than usual. When Jay told them they were "going bald" for a photoshoot, they actually thought they were going to have their heads shaved. I hope, as they get eliminated, Tyra shaves their heads on the way out as punishment for not figuring out that Jay was talking about a bald cap. Morons.

For better recaps, go here.

Posted at 09:27 AM | Comments (3)

March 07, 2006

The I Actually Have Something Interesting To Write About But Have No Time Today Blog

You know what movie I hated? "Stepmom." This movie came out about the same time I became a stepmom, so a fellow stepmom and I went to see it together.

I will cop to being all kinds of naive when I entered stepmotherhood. Indeed, I was so naive, I thought this contrived piece of dung might shed a little light for me on my newly acquired role.

(And why is it that, in movies, when they want to show that someone is a cold, career-driven, anti-family, urban hipster, they're always a professional photographer? Does the mecca of motion pictures have something against still pictures?)

The movie started out all right, but halfway through, it became "The I Have Breast Cancer Movie." Which really irritated me.

First of all, I don't like ANYTHING that makes me think of Susan Sarandon's breasts.

Second of all, okay -- I'm a big fan of breasts. Therefore, breast cancer sucks. I support research to cure it with my hard-earned money. I personally hope to take The Girls to the grave with me. Unless Heather wants them stuffed or something, I don't know. Point is, breast cancer is a horrible reality for many, many people. I get it.

I just don't want it tacked onto my otherwise perfectly crappy, indulgent movie just because Hollywood couldn't think of a better ending. There I was, eating my Junior Mints, wondering if Ex-Wife and Stepmom would ever come to some kind of understanding... buuuut that wasn't even necessary because they conveniently killed off the Ex-Wife.

"Gee, Ex-Wife, I guess I never looked at it from your point of view. Maybe we could both learn something from each other, huh?"

"What? I'm sorry -- I couldn't hear you over my BREAST CANCER."

Worst. Resolution. Ever.

And because of that, I don't want this to become "The I Have Insomnia Blog," but I have to tell you about my sleep study. I'm not going to have PirateWench.org became the story of my long struggle with sleepiness. I just gotta tell you this story cuz, well, it's rare that something legitimately bloggable comes down the pike for me. Mostly it's just crap.

But I'm running outta time, so it's gonna have to wait until tomorrow. I'll leave you with this mental picture: Me, with twelve electrodes on my head, lying in bed calling, "Hussein?"

Posted at 02:50 PM | Comments (3)

March 06, 2006

Mom and Wenchie Review the Oscars

Lucky for you, we only watched the last fifteen minutes, so this review is very short. Like our attention spans. I've added links galore for those of you who live in a cave.

Mom: I didn't care for all the blond, pale girls in blond, pale gowns.

PW: Yeah, they need a trip to Old Navy, and a stop at the food court on the way.

Mom: I think Frances McDormand* looked hideous. I hope she did that for a coming-up role.

PW: Well, we can't all be Zandra Whatshername.

Mom: Felt sorry for Lauren Bacall. Shakey, but still a icon.

PW: Yeah, same with Stockard Channing. Oh, wait -- that was Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Mom: I have never seen Jon Stewart before, and he was MAVELOUS.

PW: Did you know that his news show is not really a serious news show?

Mom: Charlize's Black dress with Big Satin Bow was great.

PW: My Gene doll has a dress like that.

Mom: What the heck was "The Constant Gardener" about?

PW: No one knows. But I'm pretty sure it's not about gardening.

Mom: The best was Merle and Lili, doing their stand-up routine. They should put that on DVD.

PW: I think it's pronounced Meryl.

Mom: The Pimp song didn't do anything for me, but of course, I'm very mature.

PW: So is Laura Hutton. Damn. She's lookin' ridden hard and put away wet.

Mom: George Clooney is THE MAN.

PW: Are you transferring your obsession? Tom Cruise is going to be devastated!

Mom: I think Heath looked queer in his weird earring. Still loved the movie.

PW: Please tell me that lapel pin was a sword. And that's the end of my gay cowboy jokes. I promise.

[* I'd like to apologize for not finding a photo of Frances McDormand on the red carpet. You probably have no idea what my mother is talking about. Welcome to my world.]

Posted at 01:34 PM | Comments (3)

February 09, 2006

Eatery B

Wow, I guess we've been at this new office space for over two years now. Our old digs were harrrrrrrible. Beige and grey and off-white. Ack! And when the G.M. asked all of us peons what colors we'd like in the new office, we were like:

"Blue!"
"Mauve!"
"Sage green!"
"NO BEIGE!"

So what's the color theme of our new office? Tan and olive drab. I shit you not. It's like a cruel joke. And people wonder why I have a Hello Kitty! and a Barbie calendar in my cube. FOR THE COLOR, PEOPLE!

Anyhoo, on the bright side, we are walking distance from one of the country's BEST indoor malls, and thus, many fine eateries. There's one, in particular, that we have been frequenting every Friday at 11:30 because it's just right across the parking lot from us. And we're lazy.

They have good BBQ pulled pork, and lots of TVs, and crack-whore waitresses in retro-harvest-wheat polo shirts. It's a decent place, and I guess we became "regulars," even though' no one recognized us even one our ONE BILLIONTH VISIT!

Oft-heard phrases at Eatery A:

"Have you been here before?"
"Oh, good, then you know about our BBQ sauces?"
"Did you want to start with some of our famous cornbread?"
"Can I start you off with a couple of margaritas?"
"Are you under any time constraints for lunch?"
"Be sure to save room for our fresh cinnamon donuts!"

Seriously, I could work there ane not need any training. Not that I'm sure anyone gets any training there. Oh! You may remember this post about our favorite employee, Danny, whom we're pretty sure was killed and served to us. His biceps alone could feed our entire office.

Anyhoo, a couple months ago, another restaurant went up right across the street from Eatery A, with a very similar name -- Eatery B. I wondered why someone would put a restaurant of a specific genre right by one of the same genre. Seems like bad planning, ya know?

But Nicholle and I got brave and tried it last week, and OH MY GOD EATERY A SUCKS ASS COMPARED TO THIS PLACE!

The nachos are an anal-retentive's dream. Each nacho has four BIG chunks of chicken on it and it covered edge-to-edge with cheese. We're talkin' individually handmade nachos here, folks! With all the accoutrements on the side, so one can assemble them exactly to one's specifications.

Clearly, I'm a picky, picky eater. Seriously, I'm a nightmare. I don't like mushrooms, cilantro, bananas, jalapeños, olives, onions of any kind, asparagus, yogurt, raisins, peppers of any color, pork, potatoes. In any given restaurant, I can find about, oh, two or three things I would even consider eating.

But on the menu of Eatery B? I found, like, a dozen things I would eat with a smile on my face and a song in my heart! And that's not even including the dessert page!

The floors are hardwood, the walls are stone and not covered in that Bennigan's-esque "whimsical" random crap. There are gently crackling fires instead of ESPN. There's natural light. The napkins are like Viva paper towels instead of gas station toilet paper.

And the wait staff! All 20-25 year old attractive, nubile females dressed tastefully in all black. The managers? Male and gay -- just the way I like 'em!

Nicholle and I go there, and it's like we're at Disneyworld. It's like when Dorothy and her friends finally make it out of the haunted forest and see the Emerald City for the first time! It's like when Elwood is picking up Jake from Joliet Prison, and the doors open, and the light is silhouetting Jake as he walks to the car!

We cooed and whimpered and fawned throughout the entire meal. We are so Eatery B's bitches!

And then. After lunch, on the way out. I had to use the bathroom. Because God forbid my acorn-sized bladder should let me cross a parking lot AND a street after finishing off 16 oz. of Diet Coke.

I walked into the bathroom, took one look around, and went back to get Nicholle, who was standing by the hostess desk.

"Nicholle! You have to see this bathroom!"

The manager and hostess at the desk gave us funny looks.

Nicholle explained, "You don't understand how much we love this place more than Eatery A!"

The bathroom is like a religious experience. First of all, TEN STALLS, ladies!!! When was the last time you were at a restaurant with ten stalls?

And the decor? I would move in! Slate tiles in dark earth-tones. Twenty feet of mirrors. Stalls with actual walls between them and not just flimsy partitions. Stall doors of varnished wood with real doorknobs. And best of all -- the auto-flushing toilets flush at the perfect time!

Yeah, Eatery A can kiss my big, white, winter-dry butt.

Posted at 01:52 PM | Comments (3)

February 07, 2006

Superbowl XL Recap*

[* For the sake of me not dying of boredom, this Superbowl XL recap will not actually contain any information about Superbowl XL.]

We only have one t.v. Well, we have two t.v.s, but the one is on a splitter so Husband can watch t.v. in his office, but we can't watch two different channels at once. No, we are not Amish. It's just a personal lifestyle choice that everyone has to make for themselves.

Now, since I'm not a raging harpie, I conceded that our one t.v. would be tuned into the Superbowl XL and all pre- and post-game commentary. I also conceded that I would not give him a "Honey Do" list, start a fight or ask to tune in to Lifetime during the halftime show. See? I can be nice!

Instead, I went over to Nicholle's, whose husband was watching the game at a friend's house. We ate Chili Cheese Dip (cream cheese, chili, shredded cheddar, microwave, chips), and then her sister-in-law, Julia, came over bearing Spinach Artichoke Dip, but I think the name is a little misleading. It was more like Garlic Cream Cheese To Mask The Spinach Artichoke Dip. Pure. Awesome.

My contribution to the evening was dessert -- Chocolate Marble Gooey Butter Cake. In other words, the Edible Orgasm. Nothing tops off two cream-cheese-based dips like a cream-cheese-based dessert. Two sticks of butter, my friends. That's right -- TWO.

Every other channel that Superbowl XL was not on was wisely playing chick movies. We watched -- I'm embarassed to admit -- "The Breakfast Club," "Clueless" and "She's All That." But only because we couldn't find any channel playing "Heathers."

And during commercials, do you know what we turned to? Do you? Cuz you'll never guess. Go on -- guess! It's only the best, most awesome show ever to air in the history of television!

PUPPY BOWL II!!!

I just can't... there aren't words to describe the sheer brilliance of this show. It's puppies, on a little football field, playing. Just playing. With each other, with toys, with imaginary friends. It was FABULOUS! We watched in utter silence.

Can you imagine the pitch?

Idea Guy: So I've got this idea for a show. It's a bunch of puppies in a room.

TV Exec: Uh-huh...

Idea Guy: No, that's it. Just puppies playing in a room. And we film it.

TV Exec: I love it! I'll give you three hours!

People, they had a camera in the bottom of the water dish so you could see their little tongues when they drank. BOWL-CAM! I am dying of cuteness!

And the halftime show? KITTENS! Of course!

And? And? You can buy it on DVD for hours and hours of wiggly-tail entertainment!

Dear Christ, my ovaries are about to explode just thinking about it.

Posted at 08:43 AM | Comments (9)

January 19, 2006

"Poisonwood Bible" Book Review

This is the kind of book that strips away all my delusions and makes me realize that I'm not -- nor will I ever be -- a writer.

I don't deserve to call myself "a writer." Hell, I don't even deserve to be writing in the same language as Barbara Kingsolver. She's a goddess and a poet, and this book is tragically beautiful in the way that "Les Miserables" is tragically beautiful -- horrible subject matter, beautiful setting.

(And if you saw "Les Miserables" the show and didn't like it, then you are either a soulless, godless pinko-commie or Heather's Fiance.)

Here's an example of her breathtaking prose:

"Imagine a ruin so strange it must never have happened. First, picture the forest. The trees are columns of slick, brindled bark like muscular animals overgrown beyond all reason. Every space is filled with life: delicate, poisonous frogs war-painted like skeletons, clutched in copulation, secreting their precious eggs onto dripping leaves. Vines strangling their own kin in the everlasting wrestle for sunlight. The breathing of monkeys. A glide of snake belly on branch. A single-minded army of ants biting a mammoth tree into uniform grains and hauling it down to the dark for their ravenous queen. And, in reply, a choir of seedlings arch their necks out of rotted tree stumps, sucking life out of death. This forest eats itself and lives forever." --Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

Okay, here's me describing the same scene:

"OMG, that place was so totally disgusting, what with all the ants and lizards and stuff -- I felt like I was having an acid flashback! Cuz, um... that's what I heard they're like. And then I tripped over a tree stump and tore a hole in my glitter jeans. VAGINA!"

Seriously, I'm gonna go drink a whole box of wine now.

Posted at 12:50 PM | Comments (7)

December 20, 2005

750 South State, Part Two: Where Alicia Silverstone's Evil Twin Makes an Appearance

Yesterday, I received no fewer than two Christmas letters written by cats. Two. Just had to share. Now on to the real post.

So let me explain about the band's name. It's an address found in many cities, including Chicago. But if you live in Elgin, you're probably going, "Hmmm... why does that address sound familiar...?" Because it's where your Mom went to dry out after her most recent "episode." It's the Elgin Insane Asylum. Well, they probably stopped calling it that when they stopped nailing the inmates' genitals to the floor, but you know what I mean.

Now, the "stage" area for the band was not exactly ideal. I mean, I couldn't even SEE Wayne the Keyboard Guy and... was his name Chris? The drummer? Rolling Stone Magazine is driving a dumptruck full of money up to my house right now, begging me to come write for them.

On the "stage" with the band (and yes, I'm making little quote signs in the air when I say stage because, seriously, the owners couldn't find a better set-up?), was some sort of party. Complete with party favors, cake and Grandma. I shit you not. Grandma was six feet away from a speaker. What kind of ape brings their Grandma to some noisy, smokey bar?!

I really, really wanted to hate the guest of honor. First of all, she was homely. Second of all, she had dark brown hair with three -- count 'em, three -- platinum blond streaks in her hair. It was so fugly, like the mom at the end of "Poltergeist," only not hot. Third of all, did I mention that she brought her Grandma to a bar? Cuz she totally did. But I just couldn't hate her because she had a Power Puff Girls bag. You see my dilemma.

Also on the "stage" was the handicapped -- sorry, "differently abled" -- bathroom. I guess they had no where else to put it, so they just built a little closet on the stage and put a Harp sign and a creepy animatronic Santa on top of it. Very weird. And very awkward going to pee because you had to cross in front of the band and everyone knew you had to pee. Which is why I waited until breaks. So only half the bar knew I had to pee.

Unlike the regular barsluts. They would just flounce across the stage, holding hands with their girlfriends, and both go in the bathroom at once. I can only assume they were going to have hot lesbian sex, and isn't that the best testimonial I can give 750 South State? If you can subliminally convince girls to act out your fantasies in the bathroom, then you are a damn good band.

But I'm still obsessing over the party. Why in a bar? Why on a stage? Why the Congratulations, Graduate! paraphenalia? Who graduates in the middle of December? Beauty school? Clown college? DeVry?

Oh, get over it, Wenchie. You will never understand these people and their strange ways.

I suppose I should name a couple songs the band played, huh? Well, I easily recognized most of them. Like "Higher Ground" a la Red Hot Chili Peppers. And they sang "Mr. Brightside" waaaaaay better than those damn kids in the V-Show. And... dammit. I recognized more songs than that, but hell if I actually know the names. Oh, they did a couple songs by Bare Naked Ladies, which made me squeal with delight! Don't ask me which ones, tho'.

Let's see, what else did they do well...? They encouraged audience participation, which is always good, as long as the audience can't be heard over the band. They sang three-part harmony! Granted, it's not jump-over-the-shark-tank-on-your-unicycle hard, but I've done it, and it does take some effort. I think all six of them sang, at one point or another. Which is exactly how The Beatles worked, so I don't think I'm outta bounds when I say they are going to take the world by storm within the next three months. Mark my words. You heard it here first. Rocketed to stardom by the Pirate Wench.

And whilst they sang, it occurred to me, "Hey. I could do that. I wonder if they need a chick singer? I don't even have to sing lead. I could just be their doo-wop girl. I've always wanted to be a doo-wop girl... in a cage... wearing white pleather boots... and some fringe..."

I'm sorry -- what was I talking about? Oh yeah -- me as chick singer. I can also play tambourine, and maracas, and finger cymbals, and bottles. Call me, guys!

And just as my dreams of riding their coattails to fame and fortune were about to be realized (as far as you know), they were dashed by Katie. Adorable Katie. Little, cute, young, sexy Katie, with her perky hair and even perkier ass. She was like a photo negative of Alicia Silverstone circa "Clueless." How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?!

Well, Kutie Katie sang with the band and ruined my evening with her mere existance, so Laura and I left after the second set. And according to widespread reports,...

WE MISSED A CATFIGHT CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE IT?!!!

Allegedly, the two barsluts who were standing in front of us all night and holding their cigarettes, like, inches from our faces and my immaculate, vanilla-scented hair, got into it right in front of the stage. And according to reports, they got beer on some of Nick's guitar stuff and snapped some cables.

AND WE MISSED IT!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Can you imagine?! We would have had front row seats! I even had my camera at the ready! It would have provided blog-fodder for WEEKS!

Frankly, I blame Katie for making me miss it.

Posted at 02:12 PM | Comments (1)

December 19, 2005

750 South State, Part One: How Do You Not Like a Band with Four Guitarists?

We all know that all firemen are hott, right? I mean, it's just a fact of nature, like all large-breasted women are sluts, and the pyramids were built by aliens.

And we all know that all rockers are hott. Case in point: Jack Black actually gets pussy. 'Nuff said.

So what do you get when you combine Fireman with Rocker? Holy shit -- you get off-the-charts hottness. And I was contemplating some joke here about it being a good thing that they're firemen so they can keep the heat under control or something, but it just sounds gay, so I'll skip it.

Went to see fireman-rocker band 750 South State on Saturday night, because of this backstory. My friend Laura came with me, which was so cool of her, because it was witch's-tit cold out AND we had to drive, like, 40 miles to get there.

The first thing I noticed is that -- aside from losing the Coke-bottle glasses -- Matt has not changed at ALL since high school. He still has all his hair, and he hasn't gained an ounce. Bastard.

So there I am, drinking my Diet Coke, fanning the smoke away from my face, and writing in my tiny notebook. It's literally 2 x 2.5". Gee, I wonder why I didn't get hit on? Matt's wife came up and introduced herself, saying that Asst. Chick Boss told her to look for a "tall strawberry-blonde," but I'm sure Mrs. Matt was just being kind and didn't want to tell me that she was actually looking for "a woman so dorky that even beer-goggles would not help her."

And about this photo. It's really hard to take a picture of a band in a bar, what with all the moving around and dark, smokey ambiance and barsluts getting their heads in my way. This is as good as I could do. Please note that, although Matt's eyes do appear do be glowing with the fires of Hell, he is, in fact, not a demon, nor does he consume the flesh of Cocker Spaniel puppies between sets. That was just an ugly rumor taken completely out of context by the media.

So they did their sound check, and I can't remember what song it was (I am the best band reviewer EVAH!!!), but the lead singer, Brian the White Tornado, was really cute. Like, he could quit the band and become an actuary, and he'd still be cute. And he had this adorable way of getting his nose caught on the microphone when he sang.

After the sound check, Matt asked me, "How did it sound? What needs to change?" What? What do I care? You are FIREMAN-ROCKERS! I was too busy checking out your packages to listen, duh! God, isn't that why you joined the band in the first place?

When their set started for reals, Matt stepped up to the microphone, which kinda surprised me. And it turns out that Matt does most of the singing, but I didn't know that cuz dude was too humble to tell me! Which is a completely foreign concept to me cuz if I were the lead singer in a band, I'd have it tattooed on my forehead. And I'd hold my bangs back with a tiara so everyone could read it.

And can I just say? Matt's voice is AWESOME! Sorry, Brian. Your voice is nice and, truly, you are teh hottness, but Matt clearly has the superior pipes. It's just a fact of nature, like everyone with facial hair is evil, or Freemasons are behind every government in the world. And he kept his nose an acceptable distance from the microphone.

I was so impressed, I called Billi's cell phone. In a noisy bar. Adding to my dorky mystique, I'm sure. I yelled into the phone, "THIS IS MATT!" And then held it up. Like a dork. Are you sensing a theme here? I don't know if she'll know what the hell the message is, or even if she'll get it. Boy Child will probably listen to it first and then forward it to Paris Hilton's Blackberry.

Hmm. Well, this is gonna have to be a two-parter, because I still have four more pages of tiny notes, but I can feel that your eyes are starting to glaze over. Fine, go play some Bookworm or something. More tomorrow: dashed dreams, lesbian bathroom encounters and audience participation! Yay!

Posted at 01:13 PM | Comments (5)

November 30, 2005

The Cure for the Grocery Blues

I hate grocery shopping. It's boring. There are geezers and people on cell phones in my way. Hauling groceries inside and putting them away makes my soul grieve for all the time I could be spending not wrangling groceries. And I hate cooking, which is grocery shopping's inevitable conclusion. Mind you, I loooooooooove eating. But groceries numb my noggin.

To make it more bearable, today, I decided to take a long lunch and do my shopping at the Dominick's near my work. That way, I'm somewhat comforted by the fact that I'm getting paid to do my grocery shopping.

(Yeah, I don't know how I keep my job, either. Probably because my boss doesn't know how to fax, or cut and paste.)

It was weird, going in. I don't like new places. I am old, crotchety and set in my ways. It was very scary. The deli in this place is about the size of my usual store. So many meats and cheeses! So many dips and salads I've never seen before! They had Brandy, Raisin and Brown Sugar Baked Brie that I could just heat and serve, for God's sake!!!

I am weeping with joy and longing as I type this.

And the soups! Each in its own clearly-labeled plastic compartment! Not all jumbled together on a shelf with other soups so you have to dig to find the one you want because the little label on the shelf edge said the cream of mushroom must be here goddammit so where is it?! Oh, truly, it was a thing of obsessive-compulsive beauty.

And how many yogurts and smoothies? ALL OF THEM! You know how you see an ad in a magazine of ten different flavors of yogurt, but you get to the store, and they only carry four of them, and certainly not the peach-raspberry? THIS STORE HAS EVERY FLAVOR OF EVERYTHING EVER INVENTED!!!

Ahhh, I'm still shaking. The whole experience was terrifying and exhilerating all at once. Like sex with a stranger. So I've heard.

I know I paid out my suburban ass for all of it, but it's sooooooooo worth it for the White Chicken, Roasted Garlic, Spinich, Mozzerella Alfredo Pizza alone!

So if you, like me, hate grocery shopping, the solution is just a simple change of scenery, and Spinach, Artichoke and Four Cheese Pockets heat-n-serve appetizers. Or? You can do like Nicholle does -- go to the local Polish grocery store and play Mystery Meal because you can't read the labels.

Posted at 02:20 PM | Comments (2)

November 23, 2005

Nick C. -- Today the V-Show, Tomorrow the World!

Time once again for the Annual Review of Local High School's V-Show. Strap in.

Ghostbusters: The opening number, in which everyone in the whole show comes out and sings one song with the stage band. Didn't "Ghostbusters" come out when they were all still in diapers? Proving that even they know that new music is crap.

Frankenstein: Next, the stage band -- in which Case plays trumpet -- did "Frankenstein" by the Edgar Winter Group, which was really cool.

I Want You To Need Me: Hmm. "Ghostbusters"? "Frankenstein"? Do I detect a horror motif this year? Well, that would certainly explain this act. Piano, female vocalist, some song I don't know. She must've been the only female solo who auditioned. And she must've been sleeping with all three student directors. And she must've kidnapped their families and thrown them in a pit with Catherine and Precious, because she SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKED. Even Husband, who is generally of the oh-these-fine-kids-are-so-brave-to-get-up-there-and-perform ilk, was flashing me alternating looks of pain and astonishment.

Graceful Ghost Rag: The obligatory piano solo, which was a rag. The piece, not the soloist. So it was pretty good. Nothing Case or I couldn't play. In fact, way back in time, I auditioned for the same v-show with a ragtime piece. But I was blacklisted from v-show that year because I had punched one of the student director's girlfriend in the mouth because she pulled my hair because I intercepted her note in art class. Ah, good times.

Compared To What: I'm going to skip a description of this garage band, as the drummer made it impossible to hear anything.

The Thoughts I've Been Thinking: The big dance number this year was really good and really clever. I'm sooooooooo tired of seeing high school girls dressed in butt floss and push-up bras, writhing on the floor to piped-in club music. But this year's number was "If I Only Had a Brain" (hey,... naaah, too easy), played by the stage band and sung by one of the male students. The choreography was cute and very scarecrowy, the singer was great, and I didn't have to avert my eyes from any under-aged flesh.

Outlines: I can't remember what this was.

Fool on the Hill: Ah, an act with a message. I think. Or something. The guy playing the piano and singing was mediocre, but it was the rest of the stuff going on that I really had a problem with. There was a guy sitting on a bench, with his back to the audience, holding a blue balloon. Then there were several other characters randomly entering and exiting the stage -- mom with stroller, young lovers, guy selling red balloons, little girl on bike, and maybe a couple others, I don't remember. And at the end, the bench guy is the only one on stage, and he lets go of the balloon. Ooooooooh, how very poignant. Whatever.

If I Am: Guy with a guitar. Husband thought he was good. I thought he sang through his nose.

Weapons of Mass Percussion: This TOTALLY ROCKED THE HOUSE! Drumline, black light, glowing sticks and drums and confetti -- I could've listened to them all night! They really should've put them on later in the show because, really, they made all the acts after them look like ass. Well, almost all, as we shall see.

Intermission

Count Badula's Box & Toccata Blues: This was a swing version of Bach's Toccata in D minor, performed by the stage band. Neat arrangement, and they're very tight for a group of kids. What? I don't always have to be mean!

Thriller: Ah, just when I thought I wouldn't have to experience underaged pole-dancing -- HOOKER ZOMBIES! Bad concept, lame costumes, unimaginative choreography. They shouldn't have been made to follow the Scarecrows. Oh, if they only had a brain.

Bouree: Don't remember this either. Sounds like soup, but I don't remember anything about soup. Oh, wait -- I remember! This was Ophelia's hott friend-but-not-a-boyfriend rocking out on the flute like Jethro Tull! How could I forget that?! He was amazing!!! I bet 90% of the rest of the cast hate him for making them look like talentless knobs.

Mr. Brightside: I think this was the one decent garage band there. You know what I wanna see one year? Teenaged boys dressed in brightly-colored polos and kahkis with their hair combed, totally rocking out. Now THEY would be true rebels. Like when Metallica all cut their hair short. Hott.

My Kind of Town: Remember Nick C. of world domination fame? Well, I finally found out who he is. He sang this song, with piano and stage band back-up, and he ABSOLUTELY BROUGHT THE HOUSE DOWN. I actually whoo-hoooooooed at a high school variety show -- that's how fucking amazing this kid is. And you know what? I'm now totally jealous that someone else has claimed Nick C. for their own world domination scheme because he's clearly someone you'd want on your side. I mean, one has to sell one's soul to Satan for that kind of talent, no? God only doles out the rainbow-and-kitten-related talent, like writing children's books, or knitting doll clothes, or painting Christmas cards with your toes because you lost your arms in a combine accident. It's Satan that makes you sing so awesome that young girls throw their panties at you and grown women seriously consider committing a felony. Dude obviously has Satan in his corner, so he'd be damn handy in any world domination scheme.

The Jimi Hendrix Experiment: A dozen kids on various string instruments doing "Purple Haze." Waaaaay cooler than it sounds.

Melissa: I just had Satan's minion and Jimi Hendrix thrown at me. Do you really expect me to remember anything else?

In My Life: Ugh. When did these become a tradition? All the seniors willing to humiliate themselves by participating, sing a sappy song while photos of themselves flash on a screen. I think I said "self-indulgent tripe" last year, but I'll say it again. Self-indulgent tripe. Needless to say, I was not one of those girls who cried during the bows of the last performance of "Brigadoon" senior year.

None of the Above - Keep the Scene Alive: I don't even know what that means. This band was so bad, the audience was actually laughing. I want the names of the yabbos who picked this act and put it on last, and I want them dead. I want their families -- dead. I want their houses -- burnt. I want their cars -- blown-up.

Gonna Build a Mountain: Traditional ending, and the cast still doesn't know the words. Some things never change.

Now I'm gonna send my parents a big box of cookies for enduring four v-shows and telling me, quite convincingly, that they were good.

Posted at 12:20 PM | Comments (2)

June 27, 2005

Batman Purely, Awesomely Begins

My movie reviews suck, but I don't care because if CHRISTIAN BALE self-Googles, I want CHRISTIAN BALE to come here. And cum here. But that's just...

Hokay then.

This post may contains a couple spoilers for Batman Begins, but probably nothing that would ruin your viewing enjoyment. Cuz seriously, you could be sitting in a pool of your own vomit, and I doubt that would ruin your viewing enjoyment. But still -- SPOILERS. There. I said it.

Also, this post is rather link-heavy, cuz I've been stalking CHRISTIAN BALE all morning on IMDB, but the links aren't really necessary, if you don't have the time.

Before I get to the list of awesome things about this movie, let me just get this off my chest. Katie Holmes was a waste of film. The red-shirt thugs had more depth than her. She was only there to spout platitudes and act as damsel-in-distress, and the movie needed neither.

Also? I don't buy her as the Manager of a Burger King, let alone a District Attorney. Christ on a cracker. A billionaire dressing up like a giant bat I can swallow (heh), but just how far do they expect me to suspend my disbelief?

Now, onto all the awesome things about the movie:

1. CHRISTIAN BALE.
2. CHRISTIAN BALE's buff, buff body.
3. It had ninjas!!!
4. Morgan Freeman. So adorable.
5. Liam Neeson as Head Ninja!!!
6. Michael Caine appeared to be sober.
7. Gary Oldman was a good guy and not a freak in any way, so I didn't have nightmares.
8. CHRISTIAN BALE looks equally good in a suit and tie as he does in skeevy hobo attire.
9. There was no Robin.
10. The car. There just aren't words for this car.
11. Scarecrow looked just as monstrously creepy with his mask off as he did with it on.
12. Baby Bruce wasn't annoying.
13. Did I mention? Yummy, dark and broody.

So, CHRISTIAN BALE is my god and king. AND? He's six-foot-two. He's going to have to replace someone on my List of Five, fer sure. Either Owen or Dom. Sorry, boys, but I can't resist a man who's handy with tools.

I saw the movie Saturday night with Marty, who is probably even more tired of hearing about CHRISTIAN BALE than you are, believe it or not. Unfortunately, Marty was the only male available to me at that particular time. He'll be outta the hospital in a day or two. But I'm still horny.

Posted at 10:21 AM | Comments (10)

June 21, 2005

Recommended Reading

To those of you not reading the Television Without Pity recaps of the UPN vomit-fest Britney & Kevin: Chaotic -- you're missing out on some fabulous writing. For the love of all that's holy, don't actually watch the show, but Stee's recaps are SO worth a read. He takes lemons and makes lemonade, lemon bars, lemon merringue pie and lemon-pepper chicken. (I really shouldn't blog before breakfast.)

Actually, I'm kinda bummed that I missed the last episode, which featured the Spears/Federline "wedding" and the video to Britney's new song "Someday," which is, apparently, about her baby, even tho' she didn't know she was pregnant when she "wrote" it.

And I put "wedding" and "wrote" in quotes, not because I wish anything but unicorns and gumdrops for Britney, but because I doubt the validity of anyone's actions when they've been huffing on whipped cream cans for 37 hours straight.

Here's a quote from the recap:

K-Fed looks over to see that Boobney is crying and she tries to play it off, but it's sad because she's clearly embarrassed by DrunkDad and also, somewhere in the back of her brain is the thought -- which never makes it to consciousness, but it's still there -- that says, "Goddamn, we could not be more ghetto right now, discussing our wedding in front of TV cameras while chomping loudly on gum like cows. Or DMV employees."

See? Brilliant.

Nicholle is a fan, too. Of the recaps, not the show.

N: What do you think she's gonna name it?
PW: Something with two names, like Bobby Ray or Billi Jean or Tammy Sue
N: K-Fed
PW: J-Fed for Junior Federline
N: Meth Head
PW: M-Head
PW: Crystal Meth Spears Federline! It's perfect! Crystie-M for short!
N: I love it - Crystal is one of those fab low-income names like Misty
PW: sure to make her a lounge singer, porn star or pole dancer. Or all three!
PW: Like her mother!

Posted at 08:15 AM | Comments (3)

June 16, 2005

Unsolicited Testimonial on Toast with Jelly

So. Mall of America -- pretty much just another mall, except that there's only one Starbucks in it, and there's an amusement park in the middle. Of the mall. Not the Starbucks.

We did some eating and some shopping and some watching of Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Anne and I were both kinda embarassed at how funny we thought it was. But then, we'd just spent six hours driving through Wisconsin, so consider the context, is all I'm sayin'.

I was a little disillusioned that we'd spent all freakin' day in a car surrounded by Wisconsin drivers -- who are no better than Illinois drivers when it comes to knowing what the fuck the far left lane is for, DICKSMACKS!!! -- just to get to a mall, of which there are several awesome ones within a half an hour of home, when we discovered...
P.B. Loco.

That was one loooooooooooong sentence, dude.

But who cares! Did you hear the angels singing when you read P.B. Loco? Probably not because I'm sure there's a P.B. Loco in heaven, and all the angels' mouths are gooey with sweet, sweet peanut butter.

P.B. Loco is a store ALL ABOUT THE PEANUT BUTTER. It is, indeed, a wonder to behold. And I say that reverently, from my heart.

They have different flavors, like Banana, Cinnamon & Raisin and White Chocolate (all of which I brought home to Husband), and toppings like apples, vanilla cream cheese and pickles.

You can have one of their sammiches off the menu, or create one of your own. Anne was brave and had the Tropical Twist, but I'm a chicken and had White Chocolate P.B. with bacon bits. It was in-fucking-credible, with the melty-creamy-sweet and the salty-chewy arghlrghlrghlrghl... I'm telling you, it's goddamn BRILLIANT!

The possibilities are endless! One of the teeny-boppers sitting next to us had Creamy P.B. with marshmallow spread and M&Ms. That'd be so awesome! For the first three bites... and then I'd need a gallon of milk. And a root canal.

Oh, and the sammiches are served with a handful of animal crackers. Charming! Delightful! Love it!

I know, I'm going on and on about some stupid peanut butter store, but you weren't there! You can't imagine the glory that is P.B. Loco! I can't wait to go back. (PJ?) I'll be stalking the website to see if/when they're opening one in Chicago. In the meantime, I think I'm gonna have a P.B. party with, like, a buffet of toppings and stuff! Wheeeeeee!

Hey, maybe that's what a Pirate Party Menu entails...?

Posted at 09:39 AM | Comments (1)

June 02, 2005

The Amish Old Navy Commercial Graduation Party

After Joe's first set Friday night, full of plenty o' good ol' fashioned Wisconsin-esque cuss words, an odd group started to converge on Skuttlebutts. There were white shirts, and ties, and Docker khakis, and pink cardigans, and flowery dresses... all very disturbing in a Wisteria Lane sort of way.

Plus, the group was made up of a large number of adolescents. In a bar. A bar with booze and fried dough and cuss words and partner-swapping and waitresses with over-tweezed, Costaguatamexirico eyebrows -- none of it child-friendly!

And yes, I'm probably being hypocritical, seeing as how I grew up grifting cheeseheads at billiards for jukebox money in Wisconsin taverns (Thanks, Dad!), and I turned out okay. Except that my first husband was a raging alcoholic...

Okay, I was right. A bar is no place for children. Yet there they were, in all their peach-fuzz, glitter-nail-polish glory. Celebrating -- get this -- AN EIGHTH GRADE GRADUATION!

"Honey, what should we do for Taylor's graduation? I really want something to do something special!"

"I know! Let's go to my favorite bar! I hear they have Coronas for two bucks a bottle, and Mighty Joe will be singing about STDs!"

"Perfect! I'll wear my new Old Navy cotton sundress!"

Seriously. At least my Mom had the decency to glare disapprovingly when my Dad took 14-year old Pirate Wench to drive him home.

Needless to say, Mighty Joe was pretty upset at having to clean up his act for the young 'uns or face the wrath of the JC Penney Catalogue Model Army. He was planning on starting his next set with his Ode to Sperm-Burping Gutter Sluts Medley.

But I gotta say (note: the following is NOT a paid endorsement), dude managed to keep both the Amish and the Drunk entertained for the rest of the evening, and THAT'S NOT EASY. I was pretty impressed.

Okay, enough of my gushing and on to the corruption of America's youth.

There was a kid there, he was wearing... oh, I don't even remember now, but obviously it warranted a sound mocking because I directed Heather's attention to him. I was sitting there, looking at him, smiling and talking in a very conspiratorial way when the kid looked up.

Well, I don't give a fuck what some 13-year old kid thinks, so I just kept staring, smiling and talking. And the look on this kid's face, I was like, "Oh, fuck. He thinks I'm telling Heather to pass him a note in study hall cuz I want to jump his pre-pubic-hair bod and smooch a bone I'm old enough to have sired."

And as ridiculous as that sounds, let me be the first to point out that it wouldn't be the first time I was mistaken for a high-school-aged girl. SO THERE!

Mr. Dreamer kept on looking over. So when we were all necking and copping feels on one another, he got quite the show. I'm sure they never showed him a filmstrip like THAT in gym class!

Anyhoo, Joe dealt nicely by having the kids request good, wholesome songs from his playlist. And then he came over and asked me -- out of sheer desperation, I'm sure, "Do you sing?"

Now, normally, I answer this with, "Hell, yeah, I can sing! I can sing any damn thing you got!" But before I could, Heather blurted out, "She sings opera!" And I could feel my soul ebbing away.

Yes, okay, I admit, I have performed much Gilbert & Sullivan. I grew up on it; I love it. But I'm not "an opera singer." I don't have a vibrato you can drive a bus through, and I don't darken my vowels beyond all recognition.

Joe wanted me to sing "I Got You, Babe" with him, and I TOTALLY SHOULD HAVE! That would have been a BLAST! But, no, my control-freak anal-retentiveness kicked in, and my brain screamed, "You can't sing on stage! You haven't even warmed up your voice today!" I'm an idiot.

So poor Joe had to settle for the next best thing: Matt. Matt the eighth grade, tone-deaf, adorable little hobbit, with his untucked shirt and Julius Caeser hair-do. Dude couldn't carry a tune in a leather Coach briefcase, but he sang "Yesterday" with all the finesse he could muster, obviously trying to impress some little female hobbit. I hope it wasn't that one in the up-do and shoes she couldn't walk in -- she was a bitch. She talked smack in the bathroom about the girls at the Loser Table. Meanie!

On the way home, Heather and I were moved by Matt's dulcet tones to explore our own love of music. So we popped in my Wicked CD and sang at the top of our lungs. Thankfully, I had the car's child safety window and door locks employed, so Mord made it home safely, despite his many, many, many,... many threats to hurl himself into traffic.

Posted at 03:40 PM | Comments (2)

May 31, 2005

Free Love at the Wisconsin Embassy

Friday night, Heather, Mord and I went to hear a friend sing at Skuttlebutt's, which is apparently the Wisconsin Embassy in Illinois or something because on the menu was "Ed's Fried Dough." Naturally, we had to order some, and it was everything Ed promised it would be, PLUS marinara sauce and pepperoni. God bless you, Ed.

Joe was good, as far as I could tell during brief pauses in the unrelenting slurping noises going on neaxt to me. Frenchie McPucker was all, "I just can't keep my lips off this man!" And I was like, "Could you at least hold my hair back while I throw up in my purse?"

I guess the bubba next to me interpreted my nausea as lonliness because, in the middle of a song, he called out, "Blondie!"

Now, I normally don't acknowledge Benny Hill look-alikes who think they are in my league because the last time they were sober they were twenty years old and hott, but since some folks at work call me Blondie, I reflexively turned towards Jabba before I could stab myself in the eye with a fork.

"I just called you that because I heard Joe call you that when you walked in." Great. "What's your real name?"

And because I'd already had an alcoholic beverage, my Kaluha-laced brain couldn't think fast enough, and I gave him my real name. And he nods and goes, "Jeff." Which, although horrifying at the time, in retrospect, was awesome because it means I can now use Jeff's real name when blogging insults about Jeff. So thanks, Jeff!

Needless to say, not only was my poor ego reeling from the man who apparently thought that I was old, obese, homely and shit-faced enough to welcome his attention, but I was pretty skeeved-out as well. I don't go to bars much (I prefer to drink at home. Alone. In the dark. Weeping.), so I'm not good at deflecting this kind of attention. I mean, could my fucking diamond rings get any diamond-ier?!

Heather went right into high-school-protective-mother-hen mode and was like, "Don't worry -- I'll have Joe make-out with you so Jeff thinks you're with him."

Of COURSE! Why didn't I think of that? The obvious solution! Jeff will be completely intimidated by a man who just got done singing "Wastin' Away Again in Marijuanaville!" My friends are the best!

So Joe kissed me. And then Mord kissed me, for no apparent reason. And then Heather kissed me. So I felt her up. And just to be fair, Mord felt me up. And at that point, I'm sure Jeff was too busy questioning his own sexuality to wanna get involved with us free-love hippie freaks. And thus, my marriage was kept safe from Jeff... thru the shameless horniness of my friends... well, it made sense at the time. What the fuck does Ed put in his friend dough?!

Then Heather got mad that Mord got to feel me up and she didn't, so they broke up for five seconds, giving me just enough time to lick Heather. And when they reconciled, Mord was like, "I'll make you a deal. For every move you make on Heather, I get to cut off one of your fingers." (Yeah, they have jealousy issues.)

I thought about it, weighed the pros and cons, and came to the conclusion that his offer was a bit of a catch-twenty-two. "If I have no fingers, I have no way of pleasuring her."

"Well," he said, "There's always your tongue."

Which is a weird thing for a guy who wants me off his girlfriend to say. Soooo, if you'll follow me, I believe that, secretly, Mord actually wants Heather and I to hook-up.

Tune in tomorrow to find out who is the better kisser -- Joe or Mord -- and to hear about the Amish Old Navy commercial we witnessed. But for now, I have to work. These assholes always give me projects when I actually have something fun to blog about.

Posted at 01:05 PM | Comments (4)

February 03, 2005

Another Totally Obnoxious and Biased Movie Review

So. While Billy was napping for 14 consecutive hours last Friday, rendering it impossible for me to use the ridiculously ancient and loud binding machine anywhere in our modest ranch home, I decided to watch a movie that I knew Husband wouldn't watch with me. And rightly so.

I apologize to all of you who thoroughly enjoyed "Under the Tuscan Sun." It was very pretty, but I felt horribly cheated by the whole thing.

I mean, I liked the overall message of "Even if you don't get exactly what you wish for, you probably still get basically what you want, if you'd just suck it up and look around for one damn minute!" But I've seen it done much better many times before.

"UtTS" was, plain and simple, leisure porn. Oooh, let's all wistfully marvel at the kind of lifestyle NO ONE leads, let alone some freakin' mediocre writer who hasn't put out a book in years! How much did she make off one-half of the sale of her old house, anyway?! ON WHAT PLANE OF EXISTANCE DOES THIS HAPPEN?!

"Oh, poor me, my husband is an asshat, so I simply can't bring myself to do anything but wander around and have chance encounters with utterly fascinating people while exotic men are taking care of every aspect of my new house!"

Leisure porn. So utterly unbelievable that any "message" of "character development" (and yes, I'm totally making little quote signs in the air while I say those words) is lost in the din of me screaming, "You ungrateful, retarded bitch! How am I possibly supposed to empathize with your plight?! WHERE'S THE PLIGHT?!"

I'm so irritated. What a waste of time.

And I know what you're thinking. That I'm jealous of her. And of COURSE I'm jealous of her. But that's not why I hated the movie! It was, I think, trying to lead me along her path of healing and whatever, but it was so hard to watch, what with me having to roll my eyes every two minutes.

Opps. I forgot to use the words "pure awesome" in my review. I think Heather will understand -- they're just not applicable here.

Posted at 09:39 AM | Comments (0)

December 14, 2004

The Best Book Report EVER

I was totally swamped at work, and yet Heather taunted me, via AOL IM. By the way, if anyone from work happens upon this, Heather is 100% responsible for introducing me to blogging -- both writing and reading -- and basically for 99% of all my wasted time. So there.

I edited our spelling and grammar, so it doesn't read like chimps were pounding on the keyboard. Although, admittedly, chimps would be funnier.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Me: Crap. I totally forgot about an article I have to write for the company newsletter.

H: Ooh! Is it a gossip column? A who's who of the accounting dept? An expose on the bathroom bandits? I bet that means you don't have time to watch THIS MOVIE, then. Which is awesome and has pirates in.

[See? Heather may seem adorable, but she's really a crack pusher. And I'm her whore.]

Me: An article on the Brokers' Conf. in Sept. that I have since blocked from my memory as a defense mechanism.

H: Wise. Be sure to use the phrase "pure awesome" at least once, will you? Because, seriously.

Me: This movie is fucking awesome.

H: I thought you'd like it. It has renewed my joy in the word "awesome," too.

Me: Hey! Ninjas! Pirates AND ninjas!

H: I KNOW! And mysterious African women.

Me: "Yeah right!"

H: Hee. The delivery of that is awesome. See? I can't stop saying awesome.

Me: Ohmigod. Flight of the Valkaries.

H: Totally.

Me: Um, ninja with an uzi?

H: Well, it was ancient China, after all.

Me: This guy was so stoned.

H: Totally.

[She can't stop saying "totally," either, apparently.]

Me: And 7 years old.

H: LOVE that.

Me: I like the gay house music. Where are the disco guys from SNL?

H: Um, isn't all house music gay?

Me: No, like, house music you'd hear in a gay bar.

H: I know.

Me: Christ, this thing never ends.

H: I know, it's the longest book report ever.

Me: Nah, I've written longer. So smug that I actually read the whole book.

H: Got me. I hated writing book reports. I figure, if you haven't read it yourself, you don't deserve to know what it's about.

Me: Yeah, cuz I'm sure the teachers were like, "I wonder what this book is like? I'll have the kids read it, and based on their book reports, decide whether or not to read it myself."

H: Hee.

Me: Gregory Peck is hot, and I would totally read the book that this movie was based on.

H: Totally hot.

Me: "Chariots of Fire." Dig it.

[I'm pretty sure that I am the only one who finds all this funny. Because, you know, in the context of writing code and filing umbrella quotes, IMing like this is... totally awesome.]

Posted at 12:22 PM | Comments (0)

December 01, 2004

Heather & I Attempt a Movie Review... and Suck

"NATIONAL TREASURE" SPOILER ALERT! Don't read this if you have not yet seen the movie and would eventually like to.

Me: saw "National Treasure" last night! It was cool!

Heather: FINALLY! I liked it, too! but I confess, when they went to Urban Outfitters I'm all "that's $600 for two outfits, at least...did they buy shoes? how much did that old guy have in his bible, anyway?"

Me: I loved N. Cage's random in-case-we-die kiss.

Heather: that was sweet.

Me: I could totally see dropping $600 for two outfits, including the shoes

Heather: esp. there. but I'm just thinking, why not go to Gap and save the cash for their upcoming plane/train/automobiling? because I'm a nerd.

Me: or Target

Heather: exactly.

Me: product placement, that's why!

Heather: i KNOW. but still. LOVED the crypt

Me: dude, I would totally have been crying if that treasure was real

Heather: seriously.

Me: fuck the gold -- think of the LOST HISTORY AND KNOWLEDGE!!!

Heather: riight.

Me: I totally would have read every damn thing before turning it over to "the world." and maybe kept one little souvenir

Heather: well, me too. and: why can't you keep whatever you want? you FOUND it! and, every adolescent knows: finders keepers!

Me: well, yeah, but I totally have to agree that it belongs to the world. eventually. when I'm done rolling in it.

Heather: exactly. but still, it's presumptuous of the world to just EXPECT my booty. especially after the pirates worked so hard to hoard it FROM the world in the first place.

Me: the world is SO irrational. that's just SO like them. "It's our history! Give it back to us! Blah blah blah."

Heather: seriously.

Me: And dude could afford that car, but not stickshift lessons?

Heather: Mr. Nerdy McChinpubes is SO getting the pussy NOW!

Me: Are all White House staffers as hot as Ms. Chase, and the cast of West Wing?

Heather: um. who what where?

Me: the chick in the movie. too hot to be that smart. Cuz Claudia Shiffer is all "I collect antique campaign pins!"

Heather: oh. right! says the lady with the boobies and the pretty pretty hair.

Me: I couldn't have fit my THIGH in that dress.

Heather: me neither. but I hated her dress. thought it looked all ugly and stuff. and oh my god that campaign pin thing was awesome.

Me: Gates is totally sleeping with her just to get his pin back.

Heather: well obviously. that thing's Rare!

Me: Then he's all "See ya Little Miss Bigfoot Stole It!"

Heather: hee. I loved how they didn't know that lemon juice and warmth = invisible ink.

Me: I loved Gates' "Do you trust me?" homage to "Aladdin"

Heather: I don't remember aladdin..but I trust you on that quote.

Me: and I love how the Dad is like, "My FORTY year old son must need abortion money" or something. and she's all "Do I look pregnant?!" Which is EXACTLY any woman's reaction!

Heather: well, in that dress, she TOTALLY looked pregnant.

Me: saucer of milk?

Heather: but, yeah, you're right! but then again, ANY fiacial expresion after that statement would be interpreted as "I look pregnant?" hee. no, seriously. I hate empire waist/crinoline combinations.

Me: was it empire? I thought it looked drop-waist?

Heather: if it were drop waist, I'd totally Love the dress.

Me: by the way, we're the best movie reviewers EVER!!!

Heather: because we're gay?

Me: precisely

Heather: I swear, we should get a show. an online webcast of "puss in boots movie reviews"

Me: yeah. we're totally awesome.

Heather: oh, btw. could you just imagine the horror in the makeup lady's eyes when she gets to the part in the script where it reads "he runs to the edge of the boat, and jumps over the side into the bay"

Me: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Heather: I can just see the wheels turning "how do we get the toupee to stay on.... through that? I didn't sign on for this - someone call my agent!"

Me: I'm sure the stunt man had a lush head of hair, just for that reason

Posted at 10:37 AM | Comments (0)

November 30, 2004

V-Show Review

Recently, I was forced to attend a high school "V-Show" because older stepdaughter, Ophelia, was in it. Today, I will recall some of the highlights for you, so that those of you who -- like me -- were total "drama freaks" in high school, can relive some of the sheer horror, and look back on your own variety shows with shame and dismay. And rightfully so.

And so you don't feel so alone, I, along with the rest of my church's high school handbell choir, rang and plucked "The Entertainer." I can't make this stuff up, folks.

The show opened with some kids making fun of the styles and attitudes of decades past, starting with the 50's, because that's the first decade that they think has it's own style. 1949 and prior, people always lived in grass huts, spoke in iambic pentameter and dressed like pilgrims. Then, the entire cast of, like, eight bajillion kids poured onto the stage and lamely rocked out to the stage band's version of "Rock 'n' Roll All Night" (AND PARTY EVERY DAY!).

Are you getting the same irony here that I got? Um, kids? This is YOUR PARENTS' MUSIC. THEY used to rock out to this. This is what you just finished making fun of, you stupid hooligans! Get off my lawn!

Okay, here we go.

"Falling" Three guys, two chords and one "original piece." The "singer" broke one of the cardinal rules of singing, i.e. you don't add H's when the same syllable is held over two or more different notes. "See-hee-hee." "Sa-ha-hame." Ugh.

"Wild Child" I don't know this song, but they were so trying to be the Ramones, while not even knowing who the Ramones are. Just once, I'd like to see a high school garage band who doesn't dress in all black and think they're soooo punk rock. What are you rebelling against? Originality?

"You Raise Me Up" Huh. Christian rock. In a public school. I wonder how long it'll be before some group of parents rises up and puts the kibosh on that? Anyhoo, he had an amazing voice. (No, not "You Lift Me Up." That's by the Thompson Twins.)

"The Freshman" Performed by a bunch of seniors. Get it? Ooooh, irony! After finishing, they walked off the stage and into police custody for underage drinking on school property. Real smooth, fellas. I know one of the guys and have kicked him out of every Sunday school class I ever had him in. So I couldn't help giggling when I found out.

"Disarm" First of all, I was totally blown away when Husband knew that Billy Corbin is with the Smashing Pumpkins. This act was cool, with the chimes, the timpani and eleven string players. And then they went and fucked it up with the worst singer ever. Even worse than Billy Corbin.

"Copacetic Banana Oil (Excellent Non-Sense)" Does that even make sense? No. So it must be cool. This was weird. It was a swing medley, and they were dressed 40's style, but half the chicks were dressed as guys and dancing with the girls-dressed-as-girls quite provocatively. And then there was some hat theme, where whichever "guy" was wearing the fedora got to dance with the lead chick.

"Angels" Oh my God. This "singer" made me cringe. It was so painful, I can't even describe it. She, like,... hiccupped or swallowed every other syllable. I'm sure she thought she was "stylizing" just like her idol, Britney, or something, but she sounded like she'd just had a stroke. Plus, she did that Mariah Carey hand thing, where you wave it around, and when the pitch goes up, your hand goes up, like you're Bugs Bunny conducting an orchestra.

"Here's to the Night" Holy crap, what self-indulgent tripe. A large group of girls -- whom I assume are the senior class, minus Ophelia, who wouldn't be caught DEAD doing something so awful -- sat on the stage and sang along with some CD, while photos of themselves where projected onto a screen behind them. Um, how do you get nostalgic about stuff like "last year" and "seventh period yesterday"? Gag.

"Malaguena" My stepdaughter. Plays piano like a prodigy, dresses like a pole-dancer. Seriously, she's fucking amazing, but I was so distracted by the huge red flower in her hair.

"Let's Boogie" Dancing by a group called "Dance II." Obviously, all the girls who couldn't get into "Dance". Proving once again that fat girls can dance!

So, what humiliating thing have you done on stage? I've dressed like a cow, played kazoo while wearing an inflatable horsie, and danced very badly to "Dance of the Reed Flutes". But that was all after high school and the handbells.

Posted at 10:26 AM | Comments (0)

November 10, 2004

A Wench's Eye View of Dorkstock III: Part Two

So John wasn't the only one who was hounded for an autograph on Sunday. What do you think of that, Mr. I'm So Kewl I'm a Cartoonist Fancy Pants?

I overheard a gentleman ask Lori to sign something, but I couldn't make out exactly what it was (his chest?), and she bustled outta there before I got a chance to ask. Perhaps the Igor Bar recipe? I don't know. Maybe she'll read this and tell us. Cuz how cool is it to be asked for one's autograph?!

After things wound down and everyone was coming down off their Igor Bar high, Marty and I talked John into grabbing dinner with us before heading back to Wisconsin (more like plied him with booze and carbs). Apparently, it was Bring a Skanky Ho and Get In Free Night. And me wearing appropriately-sized jeans and a hoodie! I suppose I could have unzipped it to my belly button, but I would have been chilly, having just emerged from the warm, monkey-house-scented cocoon of a gamer-packed gym.

The woman across from us was wearing a top that barely covered her nipples it was so low-cut. She had a very small baby with her, so I can only assume it was a breast-feeding-convenience thing? I guess.

Then there was the woman in the light pink ultra-ultra-low-rise-meet-the-pubies jeans. With her exposed roll of flab spilling over her waistband and covering her top button. *shudder* I mean, I have a roll of pudge, but I cover it the fuck up!

I ordered my meal, Spazagna, simply for the comedic value. And because I couldn't find anything wrong with pasta drenched in two kinds of sauces -- alfredo and marinara. What's not to like?

John followed suit and got the Smashers, which consisted of crispy chicken cut into bite-sized pieces, on top of mashed potatos, covered in country gravy. Eat up, Cletus! It was comfort food heaven. You could stick your head in that bowl and forget every asshole who every dumped you.

Marty got the marbled strip steak. I can't think of anything funny about that.

Slipping into a carb-induced coma, we knew we had to act fast, so we ordered dessert to counteract it. Two huge, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, two scoops of ice cream, and a galloon of hot fudge. Sugar buzz! That was on the 8th, and I'd already had all my caloric intake for the month of November.

Then I was showered with birthday gifties! Okay, it was not so much a shower as two pieces of hail. John actually parted with the Gilly and Carson cloisonné pins. They sold out long ago, much to my chagrin, and John swears that they weren't his last ones, but I don't trust him. That'd be so like him to give me something so cool, then lie to me so I don't feel bad about it. He's such a bastard that way.

So, that pretty much wraps things up. To finish, I'd just like to add, Bring GenCon back to Milwaukee! Thank you.

Posted at 03:33 PM | Comments (0)

November 09, 2004

A Wench's Eye View of Dorkstock III: Part One

Know what's kewl? Out of the Box Games. They're the most original games I've ever played. Do all your Christmas shopping there. Seriously. And then get Apples to Apples for yourself, and play it with the family after Christmas dinner. It'll be the... Best. Christmas. Ever. I keep my copy in my car, so it's always handy.

So Marty and I arrived at Dorkstock just before lunch time and warmed up with a round each of both of the 10 Days games. I admit, the Africa one took a long time. I was educated in the public school system and couldn't find Nigeria is to save my contemptable, Aryan life. I deserve to die. Do your children a favor and at least buy them the U.S. one. ~Embarrassing quote warning!~ "I had fun while learning which states border Arkansas!" No really!

Then, some guys whose names I didn't catch -- but you will know them soon, when they get rich and famous -- let the Army of Dorkness demo their new game Cineplexity (not yet in production). It was so kewl!

The only thing I can compare it to is Apples to Apples, in that you don't really need to know anything, it takes 5 seconds to learn, and it sparks great conversation. And the occasional happy dance. You haven't lived until you've seen a 6'4" geek disco dance. (Yeah, John, I'm lookin' at you.) The only requirement is that you have seen a few movies in your lifetime. Any movies. Silent, black & white, talkies, porn, indie, camp, snuff, vehicles for Hollywood's hot-new-thing du jour. ANYTHING.

[You know, I was going to put the jist of the game here, but since it's not actually out, yet, I don't want someone to steal their idea. Not that I think any (or either) of my loyal readers would do something like that, but it'd be just my luck that it'd happen some other way, and I'd get the blame. And the lawsuit. And the opened can of whup-ass with the jaggedy edges and the cut fingers and the GLAY-VEN.]

It's interesting to note that, in the same way that "Cher" and "Giant Squid" will almost always win you the hand in Apples to Apples, "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and "The Passion of the Christ" are more versatile than you may be aware! Anyhoo... CINEPLEXITY. Coming this spring! Buy it! You won't be sorry!

Oh, and simultaneous with the playing of the Cineplexity was the eating of the Igor Bars. I gotta tell ya, Lori can deliver a sugar high like no other. Caramel is her plaything. Chocolate obeys her every whim. Chewy and yummy and noisy with all the orgasmic sighs and moaning and oh dear god the smacking of the lips.

Then John, Marty and I played Cloud Nine with a cool person named Jennifer, who won by being extra cautious, while the rest of us foolishly trusted our fellow players. Stupid, stupid us.

Tomorrow's exciting conclusion: Food, autographs, and less kissing of the Out Of The Box peoples' collective ass.

Posted at 01:08 PM | Comments (0)