ANTM Cycle 16: Bees.

I had a dream last night where I was attacked by a giant black widow spider, that latched its cartoon fangs into my pointer finger, and I couldn't get it off at all. I was hitting it against the wall, and with things, and objects, and it wouldn't die or even just let the fuck go. Surprisingly, this was not a nightmare. When I woke up, the first thing I remembered was the loud crack of the spider armor finally cracking and crushing as I slammed it in a door. It was extremely satisfying.

I suspect I will feel exactly the same way when this season is over.

I know, I totally thought they were leeches first too.

Bridget: It's bees! How do you fuck up bees?

So far this episode I've learned that peanut butter is junk food and crying is good for getting you jewelry and winning photo shoots

Sarah: also, never marinate chicken

How Brittani Hatched a Plot: Week 2 Live Blog

Bridget: I am afraid to light a cigarette with nail polish on

ANTM: Some Greatest Hits

There are three people in the world who still get excited for America's Next Top Model. Those people are Sarah, M., and myself. But luckily, there are more of you who only like to read my recaps. So in celebration of this next season, which starts next Wednesday, and the fact that this blog will soon stop being lame posts about the weathers, and instead become awesome posts about buildings and sunshine and crazy fucking television again, here are some of my Recap Greatest Hits. I am stocking up the wine as we speak.


Finale from Last Season: Sarah and I liveblog it.

ANTM Cycle 14: Mommy, what's a Whitney Port?

Cycle 14: Amoebas don't make motorcycles and atomic bombs!

Cycle 14: I hope Vampires Are Real Out of Spite

What the Fuck Tyra?

All of Cycle 12 in one handy post

We Couldn't Stay Away That Long, There was Something in Our Blood That Drew Us Closer

Hey Everyone! Sarah and I Wrote a Screenplay!

It's called Sarah and Bridget Live Blog America's Next Top Model

What the hell am I going to do now?

So here is my own personal post-modern contemporary womanly dilemma...

All of my TV is ending.

Not really true. TV has always, and will always exist. TV is like a mythical smoke monster that came out of a giant glowing island vagina, and can never die, or leave, or have sex with the crazy blonde girl he's been keeping alive for no apparent reason.

Sigh.

Specifically, America's Next Top Model is over, which was my favorite writing exercise every week. Now I'm going to have to find some other mid-week topic that involves little to no thought. But nothing is going to replace Tyra's special brand of fantasy crazy. Luckily, I will soon have the first novel in her three book deal, MODELLAND, to hold me over till the next Cycle starts. I will totally be liveblogging that shit. I mean, this is from her website guys:

"The story happens in a make-believe place called Modelland - every girl in the world wants to go there because it’s where “Intoxibellas” are trained. Intoxibellas are drop-dead beautiful, kick-butt fierce and, yeah, maybe they have some powers too... The story follows a teen girl and her friends who find themselves magically transported to Modelland, even though they’re really not supposed to be there. (Okay, now, that’s ALL I’m saying!) "

There's nothing more that needs to be said, Tyra.

That picture above reminds me of a lot of the reasons I love ANTM so much. The dirty mattress. The open door. The zebra stripe pattern and random bright pink paintball splatter. And the radioactive slime. I think "Intoxibellas" must be birthed here from a Queen, and then gain their special powers from the ooze before they are mentored into fierceness by a giant talking rat.

So no more models for a while. I guess I could go back to liveblogging Top Chef, which starts in June, but that's never as much fun, because I generally actually care who wins that show. And I feel bad making fun of people with so much more talent than me. Also there is less opportunity to mention dragons and androids.

Lost is over on Sunday, which is scaring me, because I don't think there is any way for them to resolve this satisfactorily, unless someone ascends into space all Mother Mary style, and unless that someone is Desmond, and also he absorbs all the electro magnetic mojo of the island and then blows up, scattering it across the universe creating thousands more islands where everyone can go live and be cured of cancer and have Dharma smoothies.

America: The History of Us just covered the industrial revolution, so that's probably got only what? 2 episodes left? I really hope the last episode is the one where Bank of America reveals it's super secret Grand Plan for America. I hope that plan involves algae food factories and Group Think.

I'm always so optimistic when it comes to programming.

I would seriously contemplate regular Mad Men parties, but I don't have the funds to be investing in those duds, and I am terrible at cleaning my house because I have a job and a social life, so take that 1970s!

This blog is going to get SO boring.

ANTM Cycle 14: "Amoebas don't make motorcycles and atomic bombs! "

Kaneda: This has GOT to be a trap.
Kei: Then go back.
Kaneda: No. I just have to find how MUCH of it is a trap.
-akira

This is how it works. Miss Jay will make some extra money, shilling for a travel site, and you won't mind as much as you thought you would. Because the power of tv is such that even watching an episode on DVR, you still stop to watch the AT&T commercial because really why hasn't someone draped the St. Louis Arch in satin? It needs to be done. It screams to be done.

This is how it works. Angelea is actually scrapbooking. Since the rise of the upstart Krista, Angelea has become more and more likable, as if in direct proportion to the decaying of her weave. A little humbleness has done wonders for her poise, and the villain here is really fickle Alex now, stripey side kicking Alex who feeds off the energy coming from Krista's new found bitchdom.

And this is how it works now bitches, Krista will win everything. Amazed by her recent string of wins, Krista's head has expanded like a nitrous balloon, slightly squeaky, cold to the touch, and liable to pop. 28th in a line of cheekbones, the praise has sunk into her skin and bloomed, an iridescent bloom of fame fungus. It leaves her with the shakes. She is literally withdrawing the moment the camera leaves her stone cut face. Outside Hobbiton (I'm not touching that, one geek reference a post, we must have continuity people, a theme, the STRUCTURE is everything), waiting for the winner, her frame trembles with every word. She sees the end coming, she doesn't know when, but she's determined to expand, and she is terrified of the ceiling coming close down upon her. Of running out of room to win. When her name is called, it's as if a fuse is fixed and all the appliances come back on at once. Krista is growing her soft exoskeleton slowly, it will harden with time, she is a Top Model Ninja. She goes on set and, grrr, she eats them all.

Tyra is the Shadow. But she is the Shadow in broad daylight. And she is the shadow in broad daylight with a secret. She slinks into the brightly lit, glaring even, vineyard in a denim jumpsuit and have you ever noticed that the universal hand gesture for "fierce" bears eerie resemblance to the universal gesture for removing a brain sucking parasite from your face?

So give Tyra your secrets my lovelies. Alex, tell her about the bag of halloween candy under your bed. Jessica, tell her you know the reason she keeps asking you about your family is because she knows you're going home and why doesn't she just tell you? Angelea, tell her your fake hair is telling you to do things, at night, when everyone's asleep. Tell her it scares you and you don't know how much longer you can hold it in. And Krista. Krista, tell her about the hunger in the pit of your abdomen,, and about the fear you see when you look in the mirror. The stranger with the hateful eyes that looks back at you. Raina, tell her why you chose "Oh MyLanta" as the catchphrase you want to be remembered by a nation for?

Tyra wields a camera, and the results are as follows. Alex is actually Diane Lane in Under The Tuscan Sun. Raina is a ghost pirate. Angelea is waiting for the Spartans to rape and pillage her. Jessica is Bambi's little sister. And Krista is a Cheetah with a Secret.

She follows Jessica back, after elimination, to the penthouse. She swallows her whole, and then slowly chews on the camera crew. The footage is later found and pieced back together, at the end of the world. Which apparently we have to look forward to.

ANTM Cycle 14: New Zealand. The Country That Does Not Start With a Z.

When have you ever heard of a country, A COUNTRY, promoting itself using a CW reality show? Never has Tyra gone to another country, and then they have added a whole page of their travel site devoted entirely to this show. Brazil would have NEVER done that shit. Thailand was even above that. Unless Tyra has made some huge move on the global shadow market, and is now a super power player. It would explain the jumpsuits. Maybe she now owns New Zealand?

Oh New Zealand! Don't you know how gladly I would move to you if only your other official website hadn't made it substantially clear that you only want chefs, construction workers, and shepherds? So now, since my corporate qualified booty isn't good enough for you? I'm going to be merciless.

Watching the intro to this weeks episode, I was struck by the fact that I don't really remember who all these other girls are. They flash across my eyes like so many other pretty girl faces I've been looking at since childhood, an endless stream of generic smokey eyes and pouty lips, stretching from New York to California, infinity and beyond. I will get older and uglier, but the world will never run out of pretty young girls, they will just keep feeding them into the grinder one by one.

There is an ad for a Queen Latifah/Common romantic comedy, and this is Hollywood's perfect black couple, the new Gerard Depardieu/Diana Lane.

The girls are on a plane. The producers expect us to believe the plane is an actual plane, and not just a sound stage somewhere in Las Cruces. But no real plane has cryogenic dvd equipped sleeping pods like that, do they? That was seriously the best first class I have ever seen, ever. I don't believe it. I think, in fact, the producers killed all the girls, had their DNA shipped over in cold storage, and just made them all over again in Auckland. When the girls grow up properly enough, they are brought to the edge of a volcano and greeted by a gaggle of tongue flapping Maori guys who ham it up hardcore for the cameras. Some perfectly coiffed Man Who Used to be a Duck introduces them by pointing out they are on a volcano, duh, and that these dancers are representing their culture and history. To which I am all like, tell me the fucking story of the volcano what! Tell me what that culture and history is yo!

Twist! The dirty dirty girls have to hike down the mountain and go to some Go Sees in Shantytown! Without taking showers. Which blows. I could never. I look like a rat drowned in Crisco if I don't shower every day. The taxi drivers take them all through the strip malls and harbor city shoppity shops. The skies are gray and it reminds me of Sandusky, OH. Every designer is like "We love Angelea, and would totally book her for runway shows." Which would be great for her, if that didn't mean a once a year invitation to crash in someone's guest bedroom and attend the Annual Sheep Shearers for the Cure Show.

But Second Twist! Jessica apparently has a baby! and a husband! that I don't remember hearing about ever before! This makes me love her so much more, irrationally so. It's possible this was brought up before, but maybe Anslee's own extreme motherhood whining cancelled out any peep from Jess. Or maybe Jessica doesn't love her baby. I mean, obviously not as much as Anslee does, right? Or she would talk about her more.

Alasia tells us she "found her swag" this week. I am reminded of the argument the Boy and I had about the meaning of the word "swag". He insisted it was a new street word for charisma. I refused to back down from it being a clothing sample, or a bag of freebies you get at charity events. I like to think Alasia meant she found the bag the producers gave out at auditions of free CG lip gloss and tampons.

We meet some lady who is the host of NZNTM. She is the head of New Zealand's largest modelling agency, and she uses the word "abide". Remind me to never watch NZNTM.

They finally get to go shower, and find out they are staying in the ONLY BIG BUILDING IN AUCKLAND. The only one. There is one tall building in New Zealand, and it is the hotel where they put American guests. There is a beautiful moment on the deck, where the girls are standing side by side, flush with the adventure of being on the other side of the world. A giant rainbow is formed over the ocean harbor, and the girls point and laugh and smile like 6th graders visiting NYC for the first time with Drama Club. Why can't we stop here readers? Why can't the whole fucking show, the whole series, end here, with this moment of innocent glee and wonderment? Young girls being shown a glimpse of the hugeness of what they don't know. It's perfect and clean. It's Cover Girl.

Then Jay shows up on a tractor, dresses them up like the Wicked Witches of the Gay Musical Revue, and makes them pose with large sheep.

Alasia goes home.






In other news...I totally heard this song on a Leggs commercial and it's my new favorite thing of the last five minutes. Also I think their album is called Young and Clever, which I'm tempted to get tattooed on the small of my back.

ANTM Cycle 14: Mommy, What's a Whitney Port?

A Whitney Port is a creature ripped untimely from it's mother's womb, and of no father conceived but the winds from the mesas and the fumes from the subway tunnels. It is air condensed, diffused with dust and shards of plastic, strangers' tears and gleams of glass. It is only with the most violent of concentrations that this phenomenon can hold it's corporeal shadow, and thus all action is performed with only this goal in mind. Don't lose shape. Hold thy form and substance. Exist.

And into the wild and wonderful Tyranny of Tyra was this ghost thrust. A witch brought it with her on the elevator. The witch whipped her sharp eyelashes and muttered the magic words, and a storm gathered next to her. Slowly the magical gusts settled into a vapid gaze. The witch examined the room of wide eyed does, searching into their hearts to divine which one of them could see the Whitney standing there. She rubbed her bony knuckles and smiled benevolently like a wasp.

"And look who we have here today! It's fashion designer and star of the Hi...the City, Whitney Port!"

The girls looked confused. Alasia thought to herself "there's nothing there. But apparently there's something there. And if Pat Cleveland sees it, then there must be something wrong with me if I don't see it. It means I'm not high fashion, only magazine. Therefore, I must pretend there is something there in order to be a real model. I want to be a real model." She had never read the Emperors New Clothes, but she knew well enough to smile and nod at the scary crone with the fingernails.

Thus the Whitney was seen by none, but loved by all. And her army of fame hawks swept into the sorority house, and made all the girls drink a tea that smelled funny. Then one by one, the Witch visited them and put her claws on their shoulders and forced them to look in the mirror.

"Tell me the essence of you" Tell me the part of what you are that is most important, tell me now my precious. And as each girl giggled a little from the tea, they thought extra hard about what they wanted to be when they grew up. Jessica said "I want to be a princess!" and snatch! grab! Into the witches bag the wish went! Krista said "I want to be Big and Bold!" and swoosh, catch! The Witch sucked the color from between the cracks of her childhood, and Krista became a real model.

Remember when I asked where Alex had gone? Well it turns out she went into the corner to cut herself and write poems. When the Witch came to her, it was all she could do to stomach the girl's poisoned aura, and out of pity she cast a merciful spell "You are a bird. You are about to take off." Alex's eyes stared into the void of the wall mirror.

Groggy and slurry from their adventures in the guidance counselor's weekend camp, the girls were taken to a Drag Bar, and forced like drunk cheerleaders to dance on the tables for the suspiciously straight looking patrons. Krista reveled in her new found soullessness, thanked the devil for his contract, and went for the Disco Mannequin Pose. She brought down the house, and behind their cheering she thought "Now I know."

The next day, the girls are late they're late for a very important date. Alasia becomes lost in the clouds of her Afro, as she is wont to do when the mirror speaks to her, and misses going down with the rest of the girls to the limo. She decides to beat the crap out of a perfectly innocent elevator for ten minutes. Why, Alasia? Why couldn't you have just taken the stairs? Why did you have to paw in futile rage at a metal door before you even though to look for the stairs? Doors have feelings too, and you hurt them. Hint: take the stairs from now on.

They travel in relative silence to the photo shoot, where the theme is Dr. Seuss characters.



Heckling ensues, encouraged by two weird guys who do weaves for a living. Krista tries to channel a Black Power Cat In the Hat. Angelea is told to pretend she is a pole dancer for cavemen. Raina brings brings a quiet dignity to Who everywhere.

Whatever. The big news here is that Anslee, the Squirrel Mama from Hell, has finally been sent home. Also Tyra invented a new name for New Zealand "The N.Z.! Holla!" And next week we will all be treated to way too much footage of Krista and Angelea screeching like crows in first class for a 22 hour flight, while every other passenger desperately tries to open the emergency hatches and make a leap for it.

ANTM Cycle 14: Oh, the Humanity!

War sucks. Violence of any kind between any creatures sucks. No matter how holy or justified or necessary you feel it is, it always fucking sucks.

So, you know, welcome to the War episode. Every season of Top Model has that one episode where the editors decide to draw the battle lines clear, to recognize the two cliques that have eventually and inevitably formed in the House of Tyra. One could almost compare this episode with a holiday tradition, where certain rituals are observed to mark an historic victory, or loss. We watch passively, with some sentimentality for the likes of Jade, and then we eat dinner and go back to work.

On the "For Real" side we have General Angelea, flanked by her cabinet, Krista, Alasia, and Anslee. Wait, what? What the fuck is Anslee doing there? Like many legendary leadership groups, this one was forged out of the heat of battle. These four girls fought, bit, scratched, rattled, screamed at each other for a few weeks, and then became close friends when they realized Raina is probably going to win. It's kind of like how I hoped my cats would act when I got them. Hate each other at first, and then bond over the defense of their illogical hatred to any onlookers.

On the "Oh my god What" team, we have Raina, Jessica, and Super Mom. They talk a bunch of trash to each other in the guise of grief counseling, and then act like they don't. In other words, they are the girls you hated in high school but who you now watch on Glee.

In the beginning, there was darkness, and then Tyra looked upon the dry and barren earth and found it was wanting. She reached into the darkness and pulled out from nothingness an apple. She cut the apple in twain, making two parts out of one, and thus were born Malibou Barbie and Marietta Barbie. First of all, Jessica is from Arkansas. Why wouldn't you make her Arkansas Barbie? Malibou Barbie is classic barbie, you can't beat her. Jessica is not that pretty and not that rich. And second, Ms. Marietta, I don't believe your shit about everyone in Marietta knowing each other. There are 58,000 people in that suburb. Maybe the first thing you have to do to FIX YOURSELF is figure out that you don't know everyone worth knowing. You are not even old to drink.

I know, I'm jumping ahead here, but it bugged me. I'm willing to give it to her because of the whole 18 thing though, and she's obviously terrified. Maybe she'll go to Paris and be sufficiently shocked into social decency.

So there's this stupid teach where some stupid Bryn Mawr android who now works for a magazine no one buys recites the last seventy covers of Seventeen, and the girls pretend to dress according to their body shape. Raina gets the short end of the stick by being told she has to wear ruffles, and gets to keep this incredibly ugly yellow blouse she threw on, which she then wears for the rest of the episode because she is trying to get a job out of this.

Jessica wins and there's the requisite Seventeen random photo shoot that never looks like it has a theme at all because that magazine is the doctors office equivalent of a GAP catalog.

The limo ride home from that one is like the best endorsement for public transportation ever.
Angelea actually says at one point "I'm smart. People would not believe that about me because of the way I am."

I swear to god, sometimes I think this show is going to be the thing we are all remembered for.

Next is the challenge where the girls have to dress up like virgins and interview with the Demon Tinsley, in the bowels of Meat Packing District Hell. A few of them drink too much and Angelea is of course the douchebag that makes the "sex on the beach" joke, and Tinsley opens her bionic jaws wide and swallows her whole. But then chokes on her weave and spits up. The wait staff at whatever den of inequity they were sashaying around all tweet furiously, ironic beautiful 140 lines of pure poetry. Then they smoke a lot of weed and try to avoid sleeping with Jessica. Later Jay Manuel says to Jessica, thoughtfully, "You're absorbing like a sponge. It's interesting."

Back at the house, Raina goes into the Suprisingly Not SoundProofed At All Confessional, and Alasia eavesdrops and then Raina eavesdrops, and here's my question. WHERE IS ALEX? Did she get special compensation to live in another apartment, because I swear she disappears the moment they get back to the house. GOOD FOR HER.

Finally, there's the photo shoot. They made us wait for it this episode, didn't they? Nicole finally shows up, dolled up all glamour shots. It's like the CoverGirl brainwashing just wouldn't take with her, and they had to keep her away until they were sure the neural pathways were intact, and she wouldn't randomly slip in some crazy communist hippie east coast talk. Angelea tries to suck up to her, and ask her about dealing with house drama. Nicole looks very confused and says "um, stay away from it", and flinches away from Angelea's teeth. Her eyes dart to and fro as her weakened mind tries to piece together shreds of advice from between the virtual CoverGirl manual they uploaded between her ears. Finally, she gathers up her strength and whispers doubtfully "stay classy". Stay Classy Nicole. Fight the Nightmare honey.

There is judging. For once, Alasia's picture does not win a James Beard award, or even honorary mention. No, now Ursula the Male Sea Witch has decided to bestow all his blessings on Angelea, whose picture screams humanity to him! Sweet human flesh, ripe with indignation, rage, and corn syrup! His inhuman wails are no longer quieted by your soft curves dear Alasia, and so there goes your society introduction, your trip to Los Angeles, your first husband. You see it all flash gem-like before your eyes, and then slip away in the bleached out yellow slipstream that is Angelea's plastic hair. You choke on your tears, the canvas of your future wrapping around you, suffocating you, as you stand defeated in the bottom two. But no worries, the great Tyraberry believes in you. You live to pose another day, and now Angelea's fate is sealed, because I still like you better than her. With me supporting you, her reign of insane victimhood will be short and abrupt.

The war is over. Brenda lost. But now the carpetbagging begins in earnest.

ANTM Cycle 14: The worst word in the whole English language is Romper.

Once upon a time, I wanted to write a book that came with a soundtrack, and calibrated the songs to come in at average reading times, so that everyone just about heard the same song while reading the same part of the book.

What I'd like to do now is apply that idea to ANTM. However, I don't have video skills or programs, so you're going to have to use your imagination. And hand eye coordination.

First, start the show and this video at the exact same moment:



Alright, now Anslee is crying about her baby, and some girls no one knows are talking about the relationship of pickle juice and bodily functions. Blah Blah. I hate babies. They should put more babies in pickle juice. Which is more heart killing, coroner or model? They both involved sucking liquids out of bodies and cutting open into the hidden spaces. The girls get all dressed up and go out to a tram, but like a city tram? Which seems horribly unsafe. I had a classmate that fell out of a ferris wheel once and that tram makes me think of that. Where is the tram going exactly? Are they going to throw them out of the thing one by one? Oh, only metaphorically. Miss Jay, Etiquette Queen, is there to teach them about chemistry. He's going to throw them into a tram with some unknown male model and teach them how to be real ladies.

1. Also ask about him. Talk about him. What does he like?
2. Be funny, makes jokes. It's your job to make sure he's entertained.
3. Hold eye contact. Hypnotize your prey, move in slowly.
4. Make him feel comfortable. This is your job. Do it.

Oh Miss Jay, surely you don't mean to imply that the 1950s is back, do you? Cause I seem to recall that being a time of hardship for, well, absolutely everything you embody. So I know you wouldn't want to thoughtlessly teach a generation of girls that taking care of their man is a solely one-sided proposition, and thereby ally yourself with those who would beat you senseless in a cow field and cut off your dick? I know you would never, right?

Then they get to meet their male model. Cue:



That's right, Nigel Barker. The teach is to flirt with Nigel Barker. Who is suddenly claiming to not be married and have no kids? Which I seem to remember from past seasons as being a complete lie? It is creepy and sad that all of the girls act like they were just told to dance with Uncle Albert at their aunt's wedding.

Some shit happened where the girls had to pose with some flamingly gay comedian I've never heard of in sexually suggestive positions, and it's also weird and creepy. Some of them are dressed up like chorus girls. Nigel shoots them from outside on the street, through a window, so it's all peeping tom like? This whole episode is making me squishy inside and also a little bit righteous. There should be some Barbara Streisand happening here.

Then the photo shoot.



Jay Manuel feeds us some crap about feeling bad for all the poor underage kids in China who lose their jobs when horrible evil poor people like us buy designer knockoffs. Then the girls get dressed up like 90's Dance vocalists and pose like broken dolls on the most uninteresting section of New York street ever. Anslee proves she is the worst kind of person in the makeup chair.

makeup artist: "Don't cry"
Anslee: "No I've already done that all morning."

That, my dear, is why no one likes you.

While we've got this song going on, let's talk Tyra's jumpsuits. There was something in the credits about this whole season being dedicated to Alexander McQueen, and I'm wondering if that's the jumpsuit thing? Did he do jumpsuits and rompers? If so, I'm kinda glad he's dead. No, that's mean. But you know, if he's responsible for this, I don't care, I'll say that to his cold dead face. Fuck jumpsuits.

Of course, with Talley in his 60th Level Zen Crystal Warrior robes, maybe Tyra's just being converted to the Scientologists.

Finally, Judges Panel:



Tats goes home. Where she will no doubt start her own funeral home with some nice guy who collects butterflies. When she is older and examining the bags under her eyes, she considers how the botox in her face might react to the crematory fires.

Then, as the girls stand in their accepted row, they slowly recede into the walls, sealed in pressurized chambers, turned off. The lights dim and Tyra stands alone in the darkness while her minions light candles behind her. She raises her arms slowly, eyes reached to heaven. Her earrings start to sputter and roar to life, miniature rockets that propel her toward the ceiling, which opens silently, and out out out above the lonely darkness of the city lights. The huge and sprawling concrete organism that lives off tears.

ANTM Cycle 14: I swear to god, I hope vampires are real out of spite

photo courtesy of Fanpop. And whoever they took it from.

Alright my little moon disco Macintoshes, let's talk about how much better the Kanye Pandora channel is than the Lady Gaga channel. I'm just saying. One gives me Mos Def, the other gives me T.A.T.U. Followed by Nelly Furtado. Oh Pandora, you are a fickle lover.

Now let's talk about vampires. Cause that was the theme for this week's ANTM, that and CoverGirl screwing people (see NICOLE FOX) over. Seriously, what's up with this Dania person? Her pants are two sizes too small for her. Probably cause she's not a petite model. Do you know what she was on Heroes? She was crazy "oil oozes out from eyes and kills all of you" girl. NOT SEXY. Where is Nicole?

Okay, back to vampires. You know what I think of when I think "vampires"? Hair identity issues. No, it's true. Pattison and his amazing engineered hair of steel have permanently linked the two in my head, which is why this week's focus on Brenda and her hair of suck (see, pun) was totally appropriate. Brenda was freaking out. I mean, in general. But then Tyra saw she was "not working the edge" and decided to just make the girl cry and shave the sides of her head into this rag doll of a faux hawk mullet. Which incredibly, Brenda still managed to make look soccer mommy. It's like, her super power.

You know what else I think of with vampires? Mommy issues. As in, no mother should be allowed on ANTM ever again. I am sick of it. I am sick of the manufactured child pity monologues, but mostly I am sick of the constant superiority complex they lord over everyone else in the house. "I had to grow up really fast cause I got knocked up, so even though I'm on a CW modeling competition and only 2 years older than you, I'm going to treat you like a child." If being a mommy is so important to you? GO GET A JOB THAT INCLUDES A BENEFITS PACKAGE AND WON'T INVOLVE YOU NEVER BEING HOME. I want to bitch slap this Anslee thing.

In her defense though, Alize totally shouldn't have gone to the dark place with that whole bad mother thing. I would have probably lunged across the counter and throttled her. However, the dark place is where Alize lives, and the dark place is full of water, because Alize will never take off her silver bathing suit. The girls had to do some stupid activity where they learned to emote from the Upright Citizens Brigade (what?) and when Alize fell over? SHE WAS TOTALLY WEARING THE SUIT UNDER HER SWEATER.

I have a terrible theory that maybe she couldn't afford to buy nice underwear before coming on the show? Or she's a Never Nude?

So the producers did the next logical thing and totally took all the lines out of the Cover Girl commercials. As in, just stand there and pose dahlings. Tatianna (Who? I know, right?) takes the cake by silently posing like a Ukrainian video girl. Good for her. I guess.

Back at the house, the Tyra Mail tells the girls they will be visiting the No Neck Monster for their photo shoot. Every girl in the house assumes this means snakes, because what else would any reasonable person assume? I certainly don't think of vampires. I mean, vampires have necks. That's how they became vampires. Jay shows up in his bestest Saturday night leather bathrobe. The girls have to put in whiteout contacts for the shoot, which leads to Brenda crying again and Anslee being all stupid superior again and me cutting my toenails. Then the girls have to climb into a tub of blood, because this is a True Blood photo shoot where everyone is wearing cutoffs in a claw foot bathtub. Everyone freaks about the blood, except Tats, who is all like "I'm not scared of blood, I work with dead bodies." Which would be impressive if it was real blood. Which it wasn't. Calm the fuck down.

So to sum up, they inexplicably frizz Raina's hair again. Simone and Anslee try out for the remake of Mannequin. Alize knows how to spread her legs. And Tyra is going to wear a new and ugly in a different way jumpsuit every episode. Beauty Queen gets kicked off, which is totally unfair, but whatever, she's professional and nice about it. I bet she's sad she can't mention she goes to Duke every 12 seconds anymore in a national forum. And no one has killed that Talley thing yet, which I am really disappointed in. I refuse to adopt dreckitude as a thing. Tyra has started imitating his cadence, which is almost completely unbearable. Doesn't he have a vacation house in Thailand to retire to? He and Dania should go there and farm pepper. Maybe then they would get some idea of what hot actually means.

I know, that last one didn't go anywhere. Oh well. Jumpsuits!

America's Next Top Model: What the Fuck Tyra?

I know firing squads aren't allowed in America, but isn't the CW based in the Phillipines? Or a dimension where international law doesn't apply? Why are they in Barbie's Malibu condo?

So I mentioned my DVR drama last week. Apparently the magic box has magically worked itself out, so lucky me, I was able to watch ANTM's last episode. Remember how I was all set to cancel my cable? Well then Breaking Bad started again, and this new show Justified with Timothy Old Elephant. So yeah, I'm not getting rid of it. Nobody thought for a moment I really would right? That would be like France admitting Muslims have rights. That Justified show is kick ass by the way. But after watching this ANTM episode, I can safely say I fear for my sanity. Cause I voluntary watched this show for years. Like, two years. Countless hours spent trying to come up with pithy comments and comedic insults. Only to be rewarded, once my ANTM skills were tuned and humming, to this disaster of a season.

It's like Tyra thought "hey, Bridget's not watching, let's kick everyone off that is mildly attractive at all!"

My favorites have been decimated. The after school tragedy of Gabrielle. The CBS mystery of Naduah. And now the whiny embarrassment that is R.E.N. "I just want my mom to like me! Even though I apparently hate her! But yet I'm only doing this for her! She didn't buy me clothes!" I'm sure they all deserved to be sol...sent home.

Now we're left with 8 weird girls they grabbed from malls, who all have kids and desperation in spades. Abasia, Abattoir, Achene, Algolagnia, Anile, Apostrophe, Arguria and Allolalia. The Eight Reasons to send your teenage daughter to an all girls school. I hate them all. I hate the one who DOES look like Miranda from SIC. I hate the trashy one from Georgia who is going to be the worst old lady ever. I hate the pageant queen who doesn't know how to pose and wears weird purple things to panel. I sort of hate the skinny boney one who functions as a black hole, sucking in all interest and leaving us with nothing but the Approaching Void... but not as much as the others. I want to take the one who is obviously Skipper's black friend and ship her to Bryn Mawr and leave her there until she learns how to tell the difference between clothing and bathing suits.

And then there's Raina. I don't particularly like her as a model, but whatever. She and the Void are the only ones with a shot here. Let's just put them in a cage and let them battle it to the death, then we'll really be able to tell who Wants It More.

Tyra, you have spent 9 years whipping your viewing public into model judging shape. You have to raise your standards accordingly. Or maybe the show has successfully gone through all the pretty girls in America who give a shit about Cover Girl?

This Leon Talley thing? Is it there to eat the losers? Kill it.

There may or may not be another recap next week. I may have run off to Wyoming by then, and boarded myself up in an abandoned coal mine.

Wednesday TV Recap: Leeks are fun!

Oh youth, how confident you are!

ANTM: See, this is why math doesn't matter, girls.

Things I learned tonight from America's Next Top Smurfette.

1) 21 yr olds are actually older than 18 yr olds. No, really. The math girl told me. It's like, a factual thing.

2) One reason it's better to be hot is that you can keep your house in the worst filthy state, and instead of cleaning it and being ashamed, someone will whisk you away to a billion dollar estate in Hawaii.

3) I do not know how to spell Hawaii. I had to spell check a state of my fucking country. Sad.

4) There is such a career path as extreme water sports photographer.

5) In 2 short cycles, Tyra will be taking all the photographs.

6) They have no sun in Kentucky, because the coal smoke and horse farts have blocked it forever. Also, all Kentuckians are mole people.

7) We should all know more about Tibet. "I have very vague knowledge about Tibet, except that it needs to be freed." Someone should have told her Tibet is full of dragons, I bet she would have changed her mind.

8) When a fashion photographer does blackface, it's a controversy. When Tyra does it, it's emboldening, fierceable, and smizening.

9) Every single staff member on that show is a fucking expert on teenage girls. When this show finally dies, they should all go on to write books and be on Oprah.

10) Bye Britany! Remember, philanthropy awaits you in your new career as extremely successful socialite, in about 15 years.

***** I watched about five minutes of Vampire Diaries, because there was no Glee. My boyfriend danced around with some girl in her underwear to a bad cover song meant to evoke debauchery and madness. He then snapped her neck. I watched some Angel.************

Top Chef: Padma, do you know what protein is?

I actually liked the Quickfire this episode. The chefs were asked to create tv dinners based on tv shows, which was fun. No big surprise, Kevin's Italian family style Sopranos dinner won with the Italian chef guest judge. But I thought Bryan's interpretation of M.A.S.H as meatloaf and apple pie was really cute.

The only disturbing part was when Padman mentions TOP CHEF FROZEN DINNERS FROM SCHWAN'S. And then Kevin successfully evoked the idea that these would be like Meals On Wheels, and I think that particular promotion idea fell flat.

But let's move on to the good stuff. So the chefs are told they will be cooking dinners for guests at CraftSteak, Colicchio's almost iconic steakhouse. Yes, you can brand something so well, it becomes iconic. They run into the kitchen like kids at Christmas, shaking all the paper wrapped meaty gold, exclaiming over bits of rump and slices of flank. Then Natalie Portman comes in and kills all their hopes and dreams.

Ely mistakenly says the most important thing Natalie has ever done is be in Star Wars, because that's the most important thing anyone can do. I disagree. This is the most important thing Natalie has ever done:



Let's just examine the following moments:

Kevin - "Every Lent my wife and I go vegetarian as penance" - not an exact quote. I couldn't remember the exact words cause I was screaming "No Kevin! Not Lent!" at the TV, as my crush withered and died. Or at least was left gasping for air.

Eli - feels pity for vegetarians. Cause it's a disability they are forced to live with. PETA, where are you?

Mike Douche - "I'll cook anything. I'll cook goats." What?

Padma, talking about garlic blossoms- "It's like a little prick on my tongue."
Tom - "it went from a little prick to a big taste in your mouth."
All of Natalie's very lucky friends - died from the sheer wonder of being there, and swearing to themselves they will be friends with her forever.

Natalie, on being in love with Voltron Jr. - "who is his dealer, and does he want more clients?"

Also Gail, Leighton Meester wants her Emmy dress back, and is very mad you died it green.

So in the end, Mike Douche had the poetic justice of being sent home before Robin. One can only hope Ely suffers the same fate. Kevin won, again. I was less than thrilled, you Catholic. No, it's true, I still love your chubby little ginger face. But please don't ever tell me anything like that again.

Next week: Is Jennifer the new Erin (from ANTM), and what advice would Tyra give her about self-sabotaging? Maybe we should get her some Autotune?

Genesis according to Tyra

From Lyrical Malarkey...

"1 In the beginning Tyra created the heaven and the earth.
2 And the earth was without a runway, and void of all fierce colors and outfits; and improper lighting caused darkness upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of Tyra worked the runway upon the face of the waters, striking fierce poses at each step of the way.
3 And Tyra said, Let there be lighting: and there was lighting, and stage hands, and production assistants.
4 And Tyra saw the lighting, that it was good, minimized her imperfections, and made her eyes smile: and Tyra divided the light from the darkness to ensure fierce day and night photos. "

A Reading from the Book of Tyra

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: "Do you think someone is going home?"

Remember how in the Middle Ages, puppeteers used to go around giving shows, putting their portable theaters wherever was convenient, and performing obscene slapstick plays for their superstitious, bored, generally terrified audiences?

Reality TV is the modern Punch and Judy. The characters are the same. The story is the same. The only things that change are the set and the performers.

Last night, Tyra endorsed child slavery, by bringing out her own personal baby servant from it's broom closet under the stairs, where's she's been teaching it to do tricks and swaggers. She uses it to teach the girls "runway walking", which is actually just stomping as hard as you can without looking like you're stomping. No, seriously, the guest this episode was Diva Divanna, a 4 yr old wunderkind who poses like a coke-addled Brazilian 17 yr old. She's probably only 3, and is going to sue me for libel.

So the girls all tried to pretend they had no shoulders, and the closeups on their tiny skinny disconnected legs were very disconcerting. Britany, who never stops reminding you that she knows math, wins, immediately engaging the laser eyes from the evil cabal of Ashley, Lulu, and Sundai.

First of all, Ashley? YOU ARE 22! You are too old to be building a mean little gossip empire. And you are not pretty enough to get away with it. Ashley decides to actively manipulate the girls into a nasty horde around her. LuLu plays Igor, getting really into the stabbing, but not being subtle enough to avoid cutting her own fingers. And Sundai, I've decided, is the archetypal prankster. She's just out to cause trouble for the fun of it.

These three fake furies set their sights on Bianca and Britany, the first because Bianca's attitude impedes their own, and the second because Britany is better than all of them and smarter. When Nicole, in her own compassionate simple way, decides to try and be nice to Bianca, the Furies actually build a conspiracy theory for themselves, and then attack Nicole for being hopelessly naive. Their attempt to shame Nicole into joining the ranks fails, and man I hope Nicole wins now, just for having the balls to stand up to those paranoid, gloating harpies.

There's a funny part, where the chickens have to march next to Nordic Olgas in Drapes. Then they have to pretend to be tall for the photo shoot. With all the emphasis on not looking short, I'm surprised someone hasn't build a homemade rack yet. Denise Richards wins. LuLu fails to understand what tall means and gets sent home. And Ashley ACTUALLY CRIES. Oh god, I hope the other girls slit her throat in her sleep. 22!

On Cooking with Julia, Julia Childs makes duck noises and then has an Eggstravaganza with Emeril. Of course, she's dead, so it's a rerun.

Tom Delay came out of the closet. Gays and ballroom dancers everywhere begged him to go back in.

Then Top Chef. Starts off with the invasion of the Red Army, everyone wears red flags to symbolize their solidarity with the fallen Church Mouse. Robin, who everyone knows should have gone home, has to actually ask for one, which she does, but then wears it hidden in her sleeve! The insult! Ely challenges her to a duel for his comrades honor, but she makes a salad and a fruit crisp and wins the Quickfire! Hey, I could be on this show! Ash makes custards, and goes down in history as the most clueless nice guy in Top Chef history. Repeat: custards during a quickfire.

Ely does get really class-less, and tells the nation that Robin won because having a cancer story always means you win. No Ely, it means being a good bullshitter always means you win.

Penn and Teller take a break from fighting villains and mortgage brokers to come and be guest judges. Padma is REALLY excited about this. She's more animated than she's been the whole last season. The challenge is to deconstruct a classic dish, which is a great challenge because it weeds out everyone who knows vocabulary. Stupid Mike I. gets assigned Eggs Florentine, and because he is an ignorant douche who doesn't know what that is, comes up with a catch phrase to be cute about the fact that he's an idiot "eggs Foreigntome!" Ha ha! That's so FUCKING FUNNY you lousy talentless hack. He then proceeds to ride that train for the next hour.

Some people bitch about "deconstruction", some people don't. Mostly, I don't understand the big deal. You take the ingredients. You make something else with them. But Laurine and Robin and Ron are all flabbergasted. Jennifer does a funny thing in the kitchen where she actively avoids being on television in order to get her work done. Bryan makes pastrami flavored tuna. Ashley tells us she never had pot roast cause she was poor, which I'm not buying, cause pot roast is what I eat when I'm poor. I roll like that.

Ely makes bulls testicles, and Penn (Teller?) sexually harasses Padma about it.

Kevin, Mike V, Jennifer, and Ashley all end up in the top proving a few things; 1) Ashley has hit her stride, 2) Kevin may be the winner, 3)Jennifer's worst is still better than everyone else. Oh and 4) Parmesan Jelly! means I and the rest of the world will always be suckers for anything strange made gelatinous. Bacon Jam!

Laurine proves that she may be there forever simply by always beating the judges to their punchline. "Yes, I know, it was overcooked." "Let me guess, the fish?" " I know, I'm just a bad cook and should go back to catering for rich elderly folks." But it won't last forever, because you talked shit Laurine. It's like being the first one in a horror movie to have sex, you are totally screwed and are absolutely going down in a gruesome manner. Ely, you're right there with her. Professionals keep their mouths shut. Try being more like Jennifer. I know she talks shit too, but she doesn't do it where the cameras can hear her.

Oh, and we're back to giving out Calphalon and immunity for prizes. Guess they blew through that budget pretty quick.

Wednesday TV Sometimes Makes Me Cry: Top Chef, Top Model, TBL

Alright, so I missed the first few minutes of America's Next Top Model, and apparently those were the MOST IMPORTANT MINUTES OF THE SEASON. 'Cause Bambi got sent home? For being personality deficient? I have to believe there is some other reason they won't tell us, like she's a Cuban terrorist or used to be a figure skater, because I don't see Wilhemina kicking off a girl in the second episode just because she can't interview well. That's something usually reserved for the last couple episodes. But maybe Wilhemina is bringing the smackdown. Maybe they're out to show that they're not some wussie Ford company, and they are running the show, not Tyra and Lauren.

Speaking of, how did I miss that Lauren Conrad is now a judge? And not such a bad one as all that, though I question her credentials, but who doesn't? Her entire schtick is "look at me being paid to do something I'm entirely unqualified to do." It's kind of sweet.

So then there's weird awkward scene where Tyra coins her new term "Smies" and comes out dressed in the most boring superhero costume ever. I mean, Tyra gets a chance to dress up and that's all we get? She then makes the girls dress up like Pink Trons, play DDR, and some creepy supercomputer judges the curvature of their eyes. That computer is dangerous. We should kill it.
Oh, and the DDR arcade is called the Fortress of Fierceness.

The girls are all sold off to be jockeys, cause short girls can't get modelling jobs. And they are forced by their new Brazilian midget overlords to take off their shirts and pose in wigs. I don't understand why, if Tyra wants the focus on their eyes, she would pose them naked with horses. The best part was when Norm the Jockey told one of the girls, clutched behind him topless and terrified, to "relax girl".

Mena Suvari won. Bianca almost got sent home for being a whiner, but instead they kicked off the cripple, because she quit, and nobody is more reviled than a cripple who quits.

Then that new vampire show, the one about the models, premiered. I don't know why they made this show, except maybe to prove Mischa isn't anorexic, since she's the fattest person in that cast. And none of the vampires bite people, or do soul searching, or fight demons, or anything. They just go out a lot at night and don't eat anything.

Oh Top Chef. The world constantly reminds me how perfect you are. For the quickfire, the viewers got to vote for a secret ingredient, and it was between cactus, snake, and kangaroo. I have no idea why mealworm wasn't on that list, but cactus won. Lonesome Dove Tim Love tortured the chefs with condescending cactus knowledge and bad western shirts. Kevin made a cactus marmalade! Ashley made a cactus jelly donut! Maybe Ashley doesn't completely suck!Mike I. (the douchebaggy one) won the 15, 000, and promptly spent it on Ed Hardy and sad older hookers.

For the Elimination, they dumped the chefs in the middle of the badlands and ordered them to cook food with only the bare essentials. Which were 12 grill pits, a mountain of cast iron, piles of plates, a full bar, a smoker. One of my friends watching it with me remarked "that's so much better than my kitchen already."But first they had to sleep in special tents all night and talk about how much they loved or hated camping, something so important to whether or not you deserve to win this show. Mike I. talked about how scared he was of cougars (we all know THATS not true), and the Haitian did some of that old black magic to keep out snakes, then sat by his tent all night calling down the spirits to defeat these colonial bastards.

Ever notice how sometimes Mattin sounds like Borat when he talks? Or that priest from the Princess Bride? I'mfwomtheBasquecounwy, soIknoweweything.

Poor little Church Mouse decided to make ceviche outside in the desert. In fact, an absurd number of people decided to make fish? And no one made steak. On a ranch. For ranchers. Where was Casey when we needed her? Mattin's ceviche was so bad, Tom threw it out. Robin's prawns were made of solid cakes of urinal chlorine. Everyone else was kind of boring, and then Bryan won because he made something kind of resembling steak. Mattin got sent home, and no one was surprised. We're just waiting for the rest of the cannon fodder to book it, so we can get down to a real competition here.