Wednesday TV Should Quiver Like a 17th Century Courtesan's Inner Thigh

ANTM recap: The Joy of Modeling

First of all, did everybody see the super sweet interview with Miss Jay on the Tyra Banks Show yesterday?



Is it weird that Miss Jay reminds me of Bill Cosby a little?

This episode we're down to the three sweetest girls and one very not grownup yet girl who will probably be kinda nice when she gets a little more used to rejection. Oh Erin. I mean, she's 18 and gorgeous, so you shouldn't expect much maybe. Give her some college, a dreadful first day, a few years of ramen, and a son of a bitch cheating boyfriend. Then you'll want to drink with her.

Nicole, who is a shoe-in to win. What's more certain that a shoe-in? A given? A foregone conclusion? A destined prophetic totally already written ending? Girl has had some fucking awesome dresses for judges panel too.

Jennifer, who has really won me over. I think it started with the news host challenge. It's her perfect career. And when she talked about how proud she was of herself, because she doesn't normally succeed at anything, cause she's a big giant quitter? I really want her to get a show on E! like, right now.

And finally, Laura. How can anyone dislike Kentucky girl? I just wish Tyra would be nicer to her grandmother.

All four of these girls have really learned from this show, and that's kind of amazing. It takes a crazy supernatural farce of a show, and adds sincerity and meaning. I'll talk about this more in a little bit.

But first, to sum up. The girls are forced to participate in a hotel exercise class for seniors and divorcees called Hip hop Hula. Laura proves to everybody she knows how to move that junk in her trunk, and win a free trip to teach that class next semester.

Then the girls are dressed up like Pele, the international soccer star, and pose barefoot on incredibly painful volcanic rock while sea water is splashed all over their incredibly expensive soccer outfits. Erin, who it turns out is actually a 60 yr old divorcee herself, learns to soften the inborn bitterness in her face by "singing one of those pop songs that teenagers listen to." It works, but will it be enough to save her? Because, oh yeah, they're doing a double elimination for no apparent reason.

Tyra comes to panel in the act of being eaten alive by a giant flesh colored leg warmer, and creates a new word! Smozing! Smizing and posing at the same time! She is a fucking gift to the English language people.

The ax swings, and Jennifer and Erin are sent home, one to start her incredibly lucrative podcast career, and the other to become an American Apparel girl. Nicole the Classic and Laura the Cute are left, and it's great. Here are two girls who came in very awkward, not pretty in any hip sense of the word, and they both discovered they were good at this on this show. It really makes me happy. Yes people, that's right, ANTM really made me genuinely happy, with no smarminess or sarcasm or mean social evaluation. It means this will probably be my last season of watching this crap, because I've been turned. Did you notice my non-sarcastic link to a Tyra clip up there? I'm ruined.

Glee: I think the relationship between gay Kurt and his father is the single best thing about this show. I came to tears at that final scene. The writers are playing it really really well. I'm so done with Rachel though, and her not-boyfriend. And WTF Wheelchair Kid, way to be overly self-righteous and snotty to Asian Girl. Are you only going to date people with disabilities? And not even real ones, but stuttering of all things? Shithead.

Top Chef recap: Finally that Woman Goes Home.

Every season, it gets to be sorta towards the end of Top Chef, I'm watching the intro to the show, and I cannot remember who at least a third of those people are. With this season, I wish I could forget almost all of them. From the beginning, it's been just waiting and waiting and waiting for the competition to get down to the final four. KJMB. JKBM, MKBJ. BKMJ. Wish we could have done a double elimination on this show.

For the quickfire, Padma and Nigella had sex. Or maybe you were just supposed to think that, right Bravo? The chefs have to prepare breakfast room service for the ladies, who basically get to sit in bed for 90 minutes and eat six breakfasts. Fuck you Padma.

Ely makes some reuben benedict which wins over Nigella's cold culinary cockles. Kevin, of course, does something awesome. And Jennifer makes Shit on a Shingle.

I had never heard of this dish before my ex-boyfriend made it. It is one of his father's favorite things to eat. I tried it and really couldn't dig it. Creamed and Chipped are not two words that make me salivate. Add Beef, and it spells Dinty Moore in my head. Unfairly, I'm sure. But there you go. The point is, even his dad doesn't think of this as a BREAKFAST DISH. Ely wins, and instead of 15,000 dollars, he gets his recipe in the new Top Chef Quickfire Cookbook, out just in time for Christmas. I don't know why I would buy a cookbook filled with recipes made up on the fly in thirty minutes, but I probably will.

For the main challenge, each chef spends a day being "inspired" by a famous casino on The Strip. For example, Mike Voltron gets New York, New York, and decides to make a boneless chicken wing. Ely gets Circus Circus and makes peanut soup. Ect. It was pretty boring. Jennifer, who really is losing it, makes a big unappealing chunk of meat to represent Excalibur, which seems pretty accurately medieval to me. Bryan Voltron makes an excellent fish thing that wets Nigella's panties, and talks about his son a lot. Kevin says something dumb about how everyone assumes he's a redneck, which makes zero sense to me. I don't think you're a redneck Ginger. I do think you probably listened to too much Rage Against the Machine at some point, but not a redneck. He makes some spicy tomato water, which is apparently an actual thing people say instead of broth.

And then there's Robin. There's always fucking Robin right? Not any more! Robin makes panna cotta of all things, and screws that up even. Nigella makes some quip about the firmness of her P&C, see the headline, and Toby vows to step up his English Mean Girl game. But not even Robin's comedic value can save her forever, and she's sent packing. One of the Voltron brothers wins. It's really not important who. The only question left is will it be Jennifer or Ely next week? Jennifer is Petra Arkanian. Ely is Crazy Tom. Padma is the Hive Queen.

Finally, Macy's would like you to know that there is a Santa Claus, and her name is Queen Latifah.

Wednesday TV Recap: Because, really, you need one. You just don't know it.

ANTM: Ding Dong the Witch is Dead

I wonder exactly how many male Tyra Banks impersonators there are? Really? A Google search of that phrase turned up a 2007 call by the Tyra Banks Show for Tyra impersonators. Funny.

One of the wonderful things about watching reality TV like this is really getting to know the deviousness of editors. Seriously, I would have ethical doubts about dating one. But the wonderful "ah-ha" feeling when the whole episode comes to its thrilling conclusion with a TWIST, it's unbeatable. We had a moment like that last night, when we realized that all along they had been priming Kara to take Ashley's place. You always guess that the one who gets the most airtime is going to be eliminated, but this time, oh my gosh, they were practically equals! And then they were both in the bottom two! TWIST.

I really think a reality show editor would take his grandmothers death at her 90th birthday to compose a stunning shocking expose on the perils of inheritance taxes.

(I hate that this Raconteurs song starts off sounding like the Pixies. Then it becomes whiny and yucky. It's like starting to eat an ice cream cone, and finding out it's actually creamy sardines.)

So Kara, being primed for her destiny as Queen of Trashy Indiana, talks all sorts of shit. And Ashley, the Dancing Queen Who Can't Dance, talks some more shit. Then there's this dance challenge, where a bunch of serial killers send a message through pops and locks, that message being "Please, do something worthwhile and artistic with your life." The girls have to create a dance in trios, like little witches, to express three emotions, or they are told they will be turned into Serial Killers too, with Mr. Jay's Fancy Little Permanent Mask Machine. Ashley gets paired with Mena Suvari and Nicole the Awkward, and oh by the way, SHE'S A DANCE TEACHER. But Kara watched her older sister perform nightly at the Silver Fox Lounge in Indianapolis, and works that shit out.

Nicole complains about how she can't change the inflection in her voice. Um. Yes, you can. It's actually one of those things most people can do. Look, I can change the fucking inflections on a keyboard. You can be bothered to put a little effort in that.

Kara asks if she can do a cartwheel? Everyone gets really happy,

Ashley's team loses, because in fact she forgot she taught gym class for kindergartners, not dance. Duh. Ashley's actual charm is in her complete denial of her flaws. She goes back to the house, faced with her incompetence, and immediately lets more shit leak out of her dark organless void, like oil down the back of a poisoned otter floating face down.

Then it's off to Cirque De Soleil, so Jay Manual can play out his fantasy of floating away on a cotillion of beautiful red balloons, never to return. The girls are dressed up like Sarah from The Labyrinth, and then fed slowly one by one to the Giant Snail that is Michael Rosenthal's photographic genius. Laura is so excited to be wearing a sparkly dress, she spontaneously becomes the girl you always wish you saw in the mirror before going to club. It's beautiful. That photo shoot changed her life.

And in the end it changed us all. Because stupid Ashley goes home, and Kara accepts the thorny crown. Nothing will ever be the same. Also, I find it depressing that I can create a Pandora station based off Franz Ferdinand, and they can't play a single song I don't know all the words too. Also, it makes total sense it would be mostly Cake. I can't believe I never saw that before.

On Glee, a bunch of kids get high on over the counter drugs and Dance Their Fucking Asses Off While Being Awesome.

Miracle of all Miracles, there was actually a new Top Chef on. Oh wait, I forgot to mention. How horrible is that new end song ANTM plays when the loser if packing up? Gawd that's bad. Anyway, new Top Chef.

At first there's sadness. Jennifer is sick, and it's like watching a race horse stumble, wondering if it will get shot. The first quickfire, she ends up in the bottom. But to be fair, it was Tyler Florence and a slot machine, so maybe her innate culinary genius wouldn't let her succeed. The contestants had to get three random words (it's a game of threes tonight people), and from that, create some dish over-seasoned enough for even a Food Network star to like. Ashley gets the combination Blue Cheesy Middle Eastern, which she somehow fucking pulls off by making a feta pudding. Robin makes a curry, and calls it Umami Middle Eastern, which is hilarious when Padma Lakshmi, our Indian hostess, points out curry is not Middle Eastern. BURN. Kevin wins and gets a choice to get immunity or lots of money. Of course he picks the money, BECAUSE HE MADE BACON JAM ONCE MOTHERFUCKERS. He doesn't come out and say "shit, Robin and Laurine are still here, I got time", but hey, we know he knew it.

Oh, and apparently, umami means mushrooms, not MSG like I thought. My bad.

Did you know there is something called the Macy's Culinary Council? You know those Macy's commercials where all those stupid celebrities are pimping their shit, and Martha Stewart controls the table settings like that scene in Sleeping Beauty with the dishes, or the mice making the dress in Cinderella? I imagine that Martha is the head of this Culinary Cabal, and that they really do meet at midnight in the kitchen wares sections, deciding the fate of every organic farm on the West Coast.

Anyway, these douchebags (you heard me Nancy Silverton, imagine letting Tyler Florence speak for you! The shame.) all give bags of ingredients to our paired up partners, and they have to cook family style dinners, just like in that commercial!

Jennifer and Kevin get paired, and when they touch, rainbows spring from their fingers. They also get the bag with Kobe beef, and the whole house explodes in a miasma of joy and balance, universal culinary harmony heralding the golden dawn of the playful chef! Tom Colicchio morphs into a silver sparkly unicorn, and bounds away, free of his chains, into the Las Vegas sunset.

Mike I. gets paired with Robin, and and proves the golden rule of meatheads. They are always more stupid and crass and obnoxious then you really can guess. You think you can hang with one for a few days, get drunk, be a little slutty, they're not so bad. WRONG. They totally are. At one point, Mike is running for the kitchen and falls flat on his face. I suspect that will someday sum up his entire life.

While the "dinner guests" sit at their table, all casual and shit, Tyler casually delivers an impromptu memorized press release for Macy's, and Toby Young give him a look that would, if he had any, cut off his balls.

So let's see, Jennifer and Kevin automatically win right? Right.
Mike I., despite his supreme ballsack impression, manages to pull off some decent Asian thing.
Bryan V. makes his halibut polenta thing pretty well.
Mike V. has his power go out while cooking his halibut, and the fish gets overcooked. He might have been screwed, if Ash hadn't admitted he was just his sous chef the whole time, and talked about what a fucking genius he was, giving Mike V. the judge's pity vote. Tyler says something stupid about how chefs have to cook in lots of inconvenient places, so that's no excuse blah blah. Listen, unless you've been giving cooking lessons in the Sudan? Shut the Fuck Up.

Oh, but Ashley and Ely. Ely, as far as I can tell, does nothing in this entire episode except oversalt the damn gnocchi. But does Ashley give him up? Does she scream at the judges "this oversized 12 yr old ruined my dish, which I created entirely because he's incapable of doing anything except jerking off to ironic reruns of Baywatch?" No. No she doesn't. And because in the end Ashley showed herself to be a true professional, she was sent home. Good bye Ashley. I totally underestimated you in the beginning, and for that, and some other things, I apologize.

My favorite commercial of the moment:

Wednesday TV Roundup: "Much like the internet has made tv a dinosaur, so my DVR renders time irrelevant."

Let me tell you how having a DVR has changed my life.

1. TNT shows two episodes of Angel every morning at 6 and 7am. I get to have two episodes waiting for me every day! Hopefully someday soon I will get sick of this show!

2. I can do other things on Wednesdays! I haven’t yet, but I can!

3. I’m recording the whole National Parks Ken Burns thing, so I can watch it all one weekend. I can watch ditzy shows and meaningful shows without having to choose between the two!

4. I’m pretty sure the box is sending messages to my brain allowing me to eventually be able to watch TV broadcasts in my head! It’s a slow process, but it’s worth it!

I watch so much TV, it’s nice to have the option to make it good TV, instead of just whatever is on. No more stupid cake shows or reruns of Criminal Minds. I suspect it will cut down my TV habit eventually, but this week is cold and rainy, and I’m broke, so cable is my significant other.

However, you know what DVR doesn’t do for me? Generate new Top Chef episodes. WTF Bravo?

So no Top Chef, it’s sad. And ANTM was disappointing because Ashley stayed, and she is an evil drama theatre reject with serious social ineptitude and an entitlement complex. See, I don’t like reality shows because of the contestant drama and general cad-like behaviors. I only like looking at pretty pictures and pretty foods, hearing the soothing controlled craziness of Tyra or the pointed subtle criticism of a cheese choice by Tom. The more stupid cat-fighting moronic shit you throw at me, the less likely I am to watch or care. Ashley spent the first 20 minutes of that episode complaining about how much in pain she was from being pushed aside by Mena Suvari in the Walmart race (by the way, I just read some thing where a weird section of America voted Walmart our national symbol. Nice. Way to stay classy.) She reminded me of a wolf playing injured to suck the sheep into her vacuum darkness. The worst part is that Tyra will keep her because Tyra found her, and she’s her special pet, much like Football Head last season. So this stupid childish pretend adult might actually win. Also, Ashley was found in the audience of Tyra's daytime talk show. WHICH SHOULD TELL YOU SOMETHING ABOUT HER.

Tyra put on her Dharma suit, and played at saving the world through photography. Nicole had the best picture I think, but Britany won, and Britany’s was pretty good too, so whatever. Bianca was sent home to learn how to be a confident, self-assured woman who’s not scared of her own shadow or boyfriends or other meaner girls. Which is probably best for her, though a modeling contract might not have hurt that? That silly Asian girl with the dead eyelid found her true calling; turns out people like to hear her scream. And then Glee came on, and Kristin Chenoweth wiped clean my memories of sordid dark eyed Ashley.

Not the most riveting Wednesday night, but that’s why I have Community and Always Sunny episodes saved.

Lastly: I hate Seinfeld. I always have. But I love Always Sunny, which is basically Seinfeld. Why do I like one lots and hate the other? Probably because I hang out with the wrong sort of people. Oh, and also because it’s way funnier. Burn.

Wednesday Night is TV Night: Top Chef, Obama, and Why are Short Girls Awful?

Wasn't there time when I used to do something else on Wednesday nights? Didn't it used to be dancing night? Or cooking night? Or...coffee shop night? I don't know. But whatever I used to do, forget it. TV night is cheaper. And I'm less likely to contract herpes.

There was a lot going on tonight. Obama's speech on Healthcare, and America's Next Top Model premiere on at the same time. The premiere of my new favorite nerdness, Glee. And of course, Top Chef.

First, I had a difficult decision. Watch awkward messed up girls get glammed up, or watch awkward messed up men applaud on cue? Tyra won initially, cause shit, it's ANTM. It's an event. I mean, I read the blogs and the papers and the Move On letters, I know what the Healthcare reform bill basically is going to end up being, and I know what I would like it to be. But I don't know which bug eyed beauty will steal Tyra's heart by the end of the show.

This season though, Tyra left out water and her house turned into a gaggle of Gremlins. I have nothing against short girls. I am a short girl. But ANTM seems desperate to prove that short girls are crazier, more obnoxious, less mature, and straight up plain sadder than tall girls who actually have chances at being models. There was the token insane Christian girl. The melodramatic foster child who has a hole in her life nothing but Top Model can fill. The Louisiana trailer girl with the terrible accent and lead in her heels. The "I'm smarter and these girls just don't understand me" girl. And my personal favorite: Bambi, who will end up playing an elf on some SyFy movie at some point. There was lots of Tyra defense rants, about how shorter girls can rule, ect. That lasted till about the time they were judging the photos, and the judges openly pondered why everyone was so hoochie, to which Tyra pointed out that short girls don't think they can be models so they practice being sluts and video models. Oh, and she tried speaking in a French accent a lot. Which, as you will see later, was a theme.

So this is about where I decided that maybe this hadn't been the right decision, so I switched to the floor of the Senate, where Pelosi openly stared her comrades down from behind our Fearless Leader, until she had them standing to give ovations every ten seconds. It was very confusing and lackluster when Obama was just outlining specific items. Even he looked visibly confounded by some of it. "What, what did I say? Taxes? What?" But then he got all Super Speech Man, and brought out the deathbed letter wishes from Teddy, and cut open his heart with a steak knife, letting it flow into every dry and wrinkled crevice of the Medicare Council. There were a couple good jabs at the previous administration, and the anticipated Tossing of the Bone ceremony in which several Republicans actually moved, or stirred a little. I mean, I know he's good. I voted for him.

Glee was wonderful, especially the shot of Squirrel Woman crying in her car and singing loudly to the radio.

But let's talk Top Chef. We all know that's what I stayed home for.

So this was the dreaded Quickfire we all saw trailers for, where the loser gets eliminated! Because apparently, the judges got real tired real fast. They all had to make snail dishes. Kevin won because he made BACON JAM. Jesse got sent home. Yawn.

But then they pulled out the big guns. And by big guns, I mean the producers dug up the mummy of a squishy faced little man who invented French cooking, and is magical. Or as Ely put it, he wanted to meet Robuchon because he thought "he didn't actually exist and might be a unicorn." All the chefs were assigned classic French dishes to cook for the Magic Unicorn Council of France and All Things French. Except for Kevin, who got to join the Council, provided he could capture a kitten with silver eyes who makes the rain come when it sniffles. Or because he made BACON JAM.

You know, French cooking is sort of disgusting. It's all snails and frogs and old chickens and rancid milk sauces. It's like every really gross idea in the world, like cheese grown in caves and rotten fruit disintegrated in bottle for years, came from France.

But they're really good with bread. Probably cause yeast is super gross too.

So the magically glowing Puppet Master Robuchon sits at the table and conveys his evil judgments only in the sacred archaic language of the culinary arts. Everyone else blushes a lot and shuts the hell up when he talks. Except for Padma who seemed visibly fed up, and was practically suckling from the wine bottle to avoid rolling her eyes.

The frog legs by that Haitian guy and Robin were a disappointment. But it made me thankful to be an American, who doesn't have actual issues in her past, like days spent drinking urine in a boat and hating the French bastards who oppressed your country for centuries, only to have to swallow your bitterness and make their damn sauces for the Overlord of Darkness/Souffle.

Bryan and Mike I. made trout with deconstructed bernaise sauce, or rather Bryan got a sous chef for the day named Mike and told him how to do stuff.

The lobster by Ely and Laurine was a failure, but not quite bad enough.

Mattin the little Church Mouse decided to be a prick and speak at the table in French. Which was funny, cause after he left, the Grand Poobah noted that he spoke french well, obviously assuming he was from America because of the ton of bacon in his sauce.

Ash and Hector fucked up. I'll tell you right now. Hector went home. It is what it is. I think Mattin should have bit it, but it'll happen eventually.

Mike V. and Jennifer created a calming symphony of flavors in their artificial love bubble of a kitchen corner, summoned up by the amazing power of putting two people together who are really good at what they do. Jennifer actually looked like she was having fun today. So good for her. I adore her.

At judges table, despite Mike I.'s repulsive attempts to take credit for their entire dish, soft spoken Bryan won. And his prize? A job in the Kindly Wizard's kitchen for a week. Something which seemed to mean a lot to him, despite the fact he already has his OWN RESTAURANT.

I'd liked to sum up this completely unnecessary summary of tv shows you probably already watched by pointing out how much I hate the commercial below. Every time I see it, I feel creepy crawly, like there are fucking bacteria crawling all over every surface of the room.



Tiny little humans waving like broccoli is NOT COOL.