ANTM Cycle 16: Ace of Spades

Sometimes I look at this thing we've got called American pop culture and it's sort of like walking into the house of a lifetime smoker who died sitting his armchair, all the windows shut and the tobacco resin tears dripping down the faded kitchen walls, everything coated with this burnt orange sheen, even the ceramics his wife left behind in the credenza. So at first glance, everything is gross, right? Disgusting. But the chandelier in the hallway, the tea set, the kitchen clock, they're not made of gross nasty smoke puke. They are just temporarily covered in it. And sure, most of the stuff in the house is going to have to be thrown out, or burned. But some of it has got to be worth cleaning. If you've got the patience to stand there scrubbing chandelier crystals for hours.

Some of us do.

This show, however, is not a chandelier. And last week, I did not have time to stand around with grease cleaner eating away my knuckles. But it was an important episode last week, because my friend James Asmus was actually ON ANTM. Which is sort of AMAZING. When I heard about it, I literally jumped a little in my skin, like Christmas. I mean, it shouldn't be that great. This is what he does for a living after all. Well, I mean, this and other things. Like writing comic books and plays. And being funny. When I think about it, I kind of hate that boy a little. But one year Tara and James and I sat around eating a 5 pound Ghiradelli bar we bought him for his birthday with a hammer, watching Kids in the Hall. That sort of experience means loyalty for life.

Just not enough loyalty to stay at home that night. That's what DVRs are for after all. It's not a chandelier. It's not a chandelier. It's not a chandelier.

I sent James a couple of questions about his experience on the show, cause seriously, aren't you curious?


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What did you actually go on to ANTM to do?

I was hired (due to my improv background) as a plant to mess with the girls when they had to 'meet the public'. Specifically, my job was to hit on all of them and act as creeptastic as possible. Which is soundly within my wheelhouse.

What do you think you SHOULD have been hired to do?

Honestly? I was pretty happy with this gig. I would feel terrible if I had to prank innocent people on the street, but making sheltered, arrogant teenage girls scared was entirely fun. So, if anything, I'd say it would have been better to make them do a 'sexy' photo shoot - only to have it be with a completely un-model-like guy (me) who still does creepy and inappropriate things during the shoot. That way, you trap them even further into the nightmare.

How tall is Tyra really?

She wasn't there! That was the biggest disappointment. Though Ms. J did compliment my ruthlessness in putting some girls through the ringer. So that was nice.

Which girl is the oddest looking one in person?
Some of the eliminated girls were still around. (I guess because their friends would 'know' the outcome if they were back home after 3 weeks.) And Dominique is even more jarring in person. But of the remaining girls? ...Molly? I had the hardest time picturing her as a model.

I feel like the girls get wrapped tight in reality blankets during the show. Is it like all secret service up in that place?
They were escorted in and buffered by *dozens* of people. But once the challenge was over, most crew whisked off with the 'losing' girls to film something and the 'middle' girls were left to stand around with the previous losers in the plaza - abandoned. They really looked like dazed sheep for about an hour.

Best part of your day there?

My favorite part was probably dealing with Britany. I could tell she was on to me right away. As a result, she kept trying to jump in and say or do the 'right' thing - even if I was talking to somebody else. So I took great pleasure in turning around everything she tried into some sort of insult or other cause to act hurt, offended, or scandalized. She got pretty furious with me, and was the only one to say something to me after the shoot. Essentially, she said that she knew I was a plant, but I didn't have to be such an asshole. But yeah, Britany, I did. Because that's exactly what they hired me for.


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So Good Job James, Cleveland is Proud! And moving on to this week....

This is Nigel with hair. I don't know why. I watched the damn thing and I still don't know why.

You can read the live blog here. This week a bunch of stuff happened, but what mostly happened is Alex proved she was almost ready to be a big girl serial killer, as she batted and toyed with the girls like a nasty little porch cat. Also she won a car. Britani lost her shit finally and snapped, and did that "I'm having a panic attack on tv" thing that always causes me pause, because for a small moment in space and time, I can absolutely understand the feelings of a person who drowns kittens in burlap sacks for fun. Tyra was all like "If it were up to me, you wouldn't be here, but THIS IS A DEMOCRACY. LOOK AT ME BEING A FAIR AND BENEVOLENT TYRA". And Britani got to stay. Till next week anyway. When Tyra has her sold into a Ukrainian sex ring. For their photo shoot, the girls had to pose as deranged Gossip Girl fans, which turned out pretty much the way you would think that would turn out. They dressed up Alex in the skin of dead animals, and she turned her lips just so, and did her best Knight Rider impression. That girl is going to up and kill her whole church one day, just you watch.

The other crazy thing that happened last night is Sarah FINALLY told me about what Lisa from Cycle 5 has been doing. Which is this.



Seriously Sarah, it's Cycle 16. Were you saving this for a wedding present, and just gave up?

ANTM Cycle 16: PORN

Well, so I just got home from the incredibly awesome Elephant 6 Holiday Tour, which was gold and crystal and warm worn t-shirts, and ended on this even more amazing moment, and the whole thing was just pure and wonderful and beautiful. Scott Spillane has the best voice of all voices, and I got to hear Glue live, during which I mostly just closed my eyes and stood in the middle of the room. Did you know you can be completely alone when you close your eyes? There was a snowball thrown at the moon, and a parade of horns, Tara danced a bunch in her cute stripey sweater, and I said hi to lots of people and there were lots of hugs. David brought the French Nouveau looking beauty from La Petit with him, and Lauren bought me an Elf Power LP which I don't have a turntable for but the next boy I date will own a turntable for sure, and it was magical. Except for the part where my sister and Jere made out with the same girl at different times. We are going to gloss over that story. Everyone I know is a slut. Carrie freaked me out by telling me I had not one but actually two hickeys on my neck (it wasn't true). Some girl he made out with stole Jere's phone.

Driving home in a sequin dress causes all these little reflections from the street lights, and they bounce into your eyes, and make you think there are cops behind you the whole ride home. When I started the stretch down Lorain towards my street, there were multiple lonely boys in green, stumbling home alone from the bars at Kamm's. Way to be survivors boys.

So a wonderful night, and I've forgotten that tomorrow's Friday already, and as I sit here typing this the wind is picking up outside and all my windows are open to let in the sounds.

Which is why I almost feel bad giving you the link to this, the live blog from this week's ANTM.

Sarah: why is Miss Jay dressed like Dorothy Parker?


You should probably just listen to this song a few dozen times instead.

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 Cycle 16: Why Guys Don't Make Passes at Girls Who Can't Walk Properly in Giant Flotation Devices

(alternatively titled: What if the supposed seasonal memory lapse of people who have winters turned out to be an actual and true thing, caused by something they've been putting in the water, to keep us around past summer?)





Sarah: I am watching VH1 Behind the Music: Motley Crue
it's horrifying

Bridget: I have been watching NCIS for the last hour

Sarah: I think these horrors have adequately prepared us for Tyra

At the beginning, in the beginning, there were would be months without magic and the villagers would be relieved. It was the period of incubation, when deep down at the ocean depths, the Sea Witch would carefully tend her nest, culling the dead eggs, cradling the hatchlings with the longest limbs folded inside their embryonic shells like fluttering birds. The ocean currents rocked them to sleep, and the creatures of the sea floor sustained them, their tiny little claws learning to grab quick and quietly from the shadows an unsuspecting lobster or crab, their tiny new little teeth cracking the shells with little horrible snaps and cracks, the tinkling of shiny clean enamel and shiny new purpose.

In the spring, as the winter icebergs floated away to the far away dimensions fleeing the sun, the storms came, and in her cave, the Sea Witch surveyed her survivors, tall and young and proud, and pronounced them fit for the trials. The villagers saw the winds changing, knew what the red sunrises predicted, red like patent leather, red like lipstick, red like blood soaked manicures. One night, when the lightning flashed the brightest, the mothers stowed their babes safe away and locked the windows tight, and up from the raging waves came the initiates, encased in plastic placentas, stumbling on their recently formed perfect limbs, swaying newborn colts. And the games began, the annual curse of every man and woman who chose to make their livelihood on this wretched coast.

Sarah: "give me another runway without a bubble on it"
if I had a nickel for every time I said that

The witch laughed at herself, knowing the faces of her children already, since they were the same faces she conjured every year. The Vulcan. The Trailer Park Queen. The Southern Belle. The Art Student. It didn't matter to know their names now, most of them would not survive the coming tests, they would crumble and cry and turn to dust. But she searched the faces, looking for the one she knew had something, a taste for sweat and sex and money. It hid in their doe eyes, underneath their dewy fresh cheeks. One of them had the beast in her. She would strip them down, peel their souls like old paint until they stood exposed in front her, and the fangs bared.

The first trial had been survival from the waves. The second trial was a portrait painted by a blind man with glass eyes. It was all very boring, the beginning. The witch cracked her knuckles, and scratched new catchphrases on her thighs with a small butter knife. She pictured them falling one by one, and smiled, but only with her eyes.

Bridget: That weird curly brown haired one is my enemy

Sarah: jaclyn?

Bridget: I don't know, I just missed her name AGAIN
I'm just going to pretend she doesn't have one



The full transcript of our liveblog can be found here. Welcome back bitches.

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

America's Next Top Model Finale: Roberto Cavalli wants to sell you some elephant shoes

"Bridget: I didn't watch the Victoria Secret show did you?

Sarah: no

i like how it says "sexiest"....

and I'm like sexiest what...amazon fairy robot women?

that's sort of what they look like

Bridget: sexiest 20 year old woman on the edge of a mental and physical breakdown

Sarah: also, Katy Perry is like a roll of smarties exploded all over Charo"

Sarah and I watch the ANTM finale so you don't have to.

Oh It's That Time of the Week

Sarah has posted the sequel to our screenplay, entitled "Top Model Recap: Tyra is a Vampire and is training a legion of Pirate Whores to take over the World" over at her blog. Go read it. We are the two people most likely to survive the Fashionacolypse.

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

ANTM Cycle 14: The Girl Who Left Pine Bluff

You will go forth into the world,
and the righteous will know by the T upon your brow
that you are but sculpted clay,
and possess no spirit of man
but imprison a djinn in your heart.

I like the title of the second to last episode as it read on my DVR, "Ugly Pretty Woman". First of all because of the Julia Roberts nod, and second because I love when pretty people get so bored of looking at themselves that they lapse into making ridiculous faces in the name of art.

We know right away Krista is going to win because she used to be a store manager. The editors can't give her such a banal back story and then send her back into that world. All the other girls are going back to families or college or commercial careers. Krista will go back to managing a store. I want to know what kind of store. It seems really important. But she never says. Instead we are introduced to Krista's superstitious side, where she latches onto simple percentages as lucky icons. 25% 25%25%! I imagine its her version of a hail mary, this ocd recitation of her odds. She ends up saying it a lot, because she is terrified of Raina, and know the time will soon come when the three of them will enter the pit. Raina and Raina's Face. Locked together like some sort of Minnesotan Super Battlebot/Snowblower.

A wizard stops by the penthouse to have a sit down with the girls. He leaves the glass slipper and ticket to Manila at home, but brings them flowers. Real flowers. Hey Angelea, here's a tip for you: Do not ever act like this, whatever it is, is the first time it has happened to you. For instance, when I was taken to my first really nice restaurant on a date, did I tell the guy that? Did I say "go you!" Fuck no. I'm happy for you that you got real flowers for the first time, even if they are from Babar in Black, but keep that shit on the DL. Talley is actually incredibly likable in this part, as he talks to the girls about how to treat Japanese designers versus French ones, and how he worked for Andy Warhol when he was a young baby fashionista, and Warhol paid him 50 bucks a week and made him sleep in the YMCA. Which sounds exactly like Warhol, who was a dick. And now he works with Wintour, hinting at a very long history of asshole bosses, but yet he's not an asshole? So I'm on Team Talley now, despite the fact that calling something Team Anything reduces it to below soccer hooligan status. More on that later. Talley is fucking tall and huge by the way, not Yoda like at all.

I think my hard heart softens at the end of every ANTM cycle. Talley and his climb to eccentricity. Angelea and her naivety. Alex and her stink of desperation. I want them all to fly away to a hotel in the sky, where they live fabulous unexamined lives and get real flowers all the time.

So the Jays hijack a plane. They make the girls walk the aisle, as if the two of them were just sitting there in first class saying to themselves "oh my god, none of these girls can walk" "Who do you think walks the worst, Raina or Angelea?" "I bet you fifty bucks and a handjob Raina." "Alright, let's see. "

In my scenario, Mr. Jay wins, because Raina really does have the worst walk ever.

Then the girls are parachuted down into the wilderness of Queenstown to rescue a group of hostages, unaware that they are also being hunted by a extraterrestial bounty hunters.

No, actually, they are crowded onto the Hogwarts Express and taken to the mountains to get their O.W.L.s in making ugly faces while dressed as steam punk prostitutes. At least, that's what I got from the soundtrack.

Krista wins a bunch of jewelry, and the photo shoot, and then there's elimination finally and...
It's 50/50 versus the Second Coming of Brooke Shields. The Second Coming of Awesome gets sent home, because apparently Brooke Shields is better than awesome? Just like I would guess she is also better than puppies, cotton candy, Colombian snow, and pistachio gelato. You know what creeps me out about Brooke Shields? Those new commercials for growing your eyelashes. Where they are all like "side effects include staining your eyelid dark and maybe turning your eyes brown permanently." Angelea cannot resist one last embarrassing awkward moment of dancing, and then she is swept out of our lives forever.

Tyra yells at us violently to not go anywhere, like a CW drill Sergeant, and it works, I am frozen to my seat. Of course, it's 2am when I watch this, so I may actually be asleep, and this may not actually be what happened. Did anyone else hear her?

The finalists, Krista and Raina, are kidnapped and taken by black ops helicopter to an abandoned island resort, where a strange man gives them champagne and a butcher knife. They relax for a moment, savoring the drink after days of dehydration, when knock knock at the door are the Covergirl legions, led by zombie Nicole who looks like someone has been keeping her sedated in a lab and experimenting on coloring her hair through genetic alteration. The girls fight off the hordes as long as they can, but are overwhelmed and dragged down to the basement of the resort, where they are hooked up to every cosmetic torture device CG owns. After days of "treatments", Krista emerges as a high class New Orleans escort, Raina as a Russian underwear model/sex slave. They both bomb the commercial, and have their ankle bones shaved.

Later they find out their families have been kidnapped and brought to this same Island of Misfit Makeup. Tyra briefly shows them their loved ones faces, then drags them away again, promising to use them as test subjects unless the girls successfully walk in a Rock in Roll Circus show which appears to just be "dress up like an English school girl" show. All the other sad unhappy toys are trotted out, and they will all walk to school together, taking away any meaning this prize has at all. It's like they only got their New Zealand Air tickets in bulk or something. Someone needs to burn that hat Jessica keeps wearing. The girls divide themselves into Team Krista and Team Raina, proving Stockholm syndrome works across the equator. Fuck you Twilight.

There is a runway show. It features insanely boring clothes. Krista pictures her mom and stepdad, locked in that cold lab with shampoo in their eyes, and smiles smiles smiles until her face is frozen that way. Raina cannot fight the fear for her father, and her walk is stilted, stompy and uninspired. At the end of the night, Raina's father is brought out for the audience, tied to a wheel, and they throw daggers at him until one hits home. Alex wins, just for a brief shining moment, and is then sent back to the fishing village.

They meet at elimination, all our familiar characters. Raina is inexplicably wearing a tail. Tyra saved the best jumpsuit for last, an electric blue which symbolizes all the pain and wear and tear we've suffered to reach this final scene, all the sorrow and shame, the pride and dignity required to make it here. They crown Krista queen of the chocolate girls, and Talley cries a little. Then she is allowed to beat Raina to death with her bare hands.

THE END

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.

ANTM Cycle 14: Briefly Briefly We Fly Into the Light

TEAM R.E.N.

I'm not going to dwell long on what was obviously such a momentous night in my household. We were there, we all saw it together. Suffice it to say, Tyra's long cherished dream of designing, engineering, and making over the perfect fake tv model has been realized. The moment R.E.N. stepped into the spotlight and over Perez Hilton's prostrate body, boldly staring down her organic competitors while her Creator glowed proudly above her, the the television/gossip blog world was changed forever, as well as several hotly debated areas of physics and molecular biology. Also she's vegan.

This will be a Cycle to remember for generations.



Now, how the hell do I get Top Model Canada and Top Model Germany on my TV? Are they on Netflix? Will The Boy allow me to use his Netflix to watch Heidi Klum in Tyra's role if I explain what a massive hole Project Runway has left in my psyche?

Top Chef Recap: Finale Part Two

The Wrong Brother Won.
One.
Won.








(p.s. I am extremely drunk on jello shots and it is possible that later today I will have wished that I wrote a more fanciful, articulate review. However right now I just know that both of them know it, and Kevin knows it, and if Padma doesn't know it, it's only because at some point Top Chef had to become the Establishment and we had to start rebelling against it. It has become a new standard of judgment in the culinary community, and therefore we must bring it down, and tirade against it's inequality and inadequacies, and later tonight we fought about kittens and commitment and I'm sorry but I think it's totally fair to see shadows of my past relationship in your fickleness of stray cat keepingness. Also Bryan should have won. But I've never known if I'm spelling his name right, and quite frankly, I don't care enough to google it. There was no great sibling rivalry resolved today. There was only us, screaming, into the nothingness that is the Council's palate, like salivating starving dogs at the Culture Counter, with no rhyme or reason. )

edit: today I read that the reason Kevin was in a funk is because he and his wife split up right before heading back to Napa. So Kevin, I'm sorry you didn't win, and I hope you're okay. I want to organize a mass group of people and camp out in Atlanta with Kevin t-shirts and spend lots of money at your restaurant, because thats the only non-creepy non-sex not stalking thing I can think to do. Also, it is warmer down there right now. But I'll probably just stay up and here and feel sorry for you. Also, the mom thing takes on whole new meaning.

Top Chef Recap: Finale Part One

Dear Best Friend,

What is the best way to hide a baby bump? I am normally very sexy, but as I get bigger, I'm afraid of wearing my normal clothes.

Yours truly, Knocked Up in Napa

Dear Knocked Up,

Instead of wearing your normal slutty clothes, what you should be wearing is even sluttier clothes. If last night's tv watching taught us anything, it's that pretty girls who are pregnant should wear even less clothing than what got them there in the first place. Try digging out your old cheerleading outfit, or dressing in a really fattening color, like white. It'll be ironic, since you're obviously anything but virginal. Change your hairstyle dramatically. Or, if you're really brave, wear clothing that has been previously only worn by cast members of Resident Evil movies and Blade. People will be so busy wondering where half of your sleeves went, they won't look at your fat little belly at all.

Dear Best Friend,

Which is worse, over-salting goat cheese or feeding a pregnant woman
a raw egg?

Yours truly, Cheated by the Brothers Grimm

Dear Cheated,

Up until last night, I would have said the raw egg thing. Salmonella and all. But apparently over salted goat cheese is really fucking nasty. Also, if you are called on the carpet for this sort of thing, NEVER EVER CONFESS THAT YOU WOULD HAVE MADE YOUR PERFECT DISH A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT WAY. If possible, make sure you have some sort of epic story arc, like Cain and Abel, or Lucy and Desi, that will make you indispensable to the editors. Show no weakness. Next time, try hitting on your furry married co-star. It can't hurt.

Dear Best Friend,

What is Michael Chiarello's fucking problem?

Yours truly, California Dreaming

Dear California,

I don't know, but if you could please, as a state, do us the favor of forbidding him from traveling across state lines, I know we'd all be grateful. Please make sure he understands this includes all Top Chef production sets. I suggest also maybe imprisoning him in a wine cave under his beloved valley for all time, with animated grape vines removing his vital organs every 24 hours, until a sous chef should find him and put him out of his misery.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That is the worst sign ever, you pretentious twats

Last night was anything but poetry for our Fearless Foursome. They were spirited away to Napa Valley, the Den of Easy Virtues. Once there, they came face to face with the soggy pork known as Chef Chiarello, the bastard who stole Top Chef Master title from Hubert, and who had kidnapped their princess and impregnated her with mystical soul sucking grapeseed babies. Their first challenge to was to get on his evil Train of Sustainable Doom, which was obviously a trap. Once imprisoned in the tiny kitchen car, they were forced to cook grapes grapes grapes. These dishes they fed to the Princess, like pomegranates to Persephone, knowing they were powerless to help her. With every bite, her soul turned more and more a deeper shade of khaki beige, with spots of sportscoat navy.

The brave boys managed to escape, but Jennifer oh my Jennifer. Like the Grinch, Chiarello set his evil eye upon her and determined that he would steal her talent for himself. Right then and there, he resolved that she should never win Top Chef. She would come to live with him in his faux Italian villa, while her soul would fester in a cedar barrel, trapped in the cellar with all his other victims. Like Ursula the sea witch and her bottles, see? Ripert he would deal with later.

Their destination was the annual harvest festival, call The Crush because traditionally this is when the indentured Chinese and Mexicans would pass out and drown in the mighty vats. They were forced to race each other through mazes to gather the ashen scraps of a raped countryside, and out of the scraps they must compose the dish to save their lives and careers.

First, the meats. Kevin chose the stoic and silent Cow as his totem, strong and cornfed. But did he cook it long enough? Bryan also used beef, understated and sweet, elegant. But where were his figs? Michael, devious ambitious Michael. Was it any wonder foi gras was his choice? And was it a surprise the stingy bastard didn't put enough in his soup? But Jennifer my Jennifer. Your duck was the prize of the night, the gilded feather in your cap. How ironic that it should also be the seal on your coffin, since Chiarello renewed his vow to bring your star down, once he tasted it's toothsome duckyness. (also, my friends, Kevin, that is what toothsome actually means.)

And the vegetarian dishes? Kevin took a carrot and a radish, said a magic Southern Witch spell over them, and created two pieces of vegetable that tasted like a 5 course meal. Bryan wove a ravioli so fine, the spiders were jealous. Michael put a raw egg in some vegetable stock and fed it to the princess. Maybe, he was trying to put her out of her misery? I think that's giving him too much credit. And Jennifer my Jennifer, it's not your fault that the evil Chiarello switched salts on you, giving you the cursed salt with the very slow melting that was ultimately your downfall. I know he did it. Did you see at judges table, how he immediately knew what had happened, even before you did?

The princess, whose transformation to rogue angel fighter was complete by the second scene, felt a tear on her cheek, and wondered what it was.

In the final level, the heroes faced the Circle of the Black Thorn, and though their armor was shining brightly, the Council nit and picked until the smallest pores and ingrown hairs had been exposed. When the smoke had cleared, Voltron remained united, to fight it out in the final battle. And Jennifer was left to hitch her way back to Philly, and battle Chiarello's minions by herself until she could be reunited with her Master, The Sorcerer Ripert. Who watched the battle from his ivory tower, and plotted revenge for the humiliation of his secret daughter.

Wednesday TV Night:: 1 Down, 1 To Go

America's Next Top Model is Finally Over Folks.

I'll make this recap quick.
First, the producers had the girls reintroduce themselves to the audience. Because there is apparently a large section of viewers who only tune in for the finales of reality shows.
After that sweet trip down made up memory lane, a strange green Hawaiian leprechaun made the girls get lost hiking, by leading down tricky paths that disappeared into volcanic dust when they tried to find them again. Laura tried leaving pineapple pieces, to get them home, but the starving camera crew which has been forced to follow them day and night for months ate them. After hours in the hot sun, the leprechaun told them the secret to getting home before night, which was to film this commercial for mascara. A vampire showed up, and kept trying to psyche them out, cause if they lost they would be left in the wilderness overnight, and this particular vamp had been living on liquid eyeshadow for years. But luckily, the plucky little dyslexic and the snotty east coast liberal managed to do alright with their scripts. Even though the hostage video of them together was OBVIOUSLY a hostage video, I mean, c'mon.

Two interruptions: 1)The best part of this ANTM season has been the fucking Nutella for Breakfast commercials. 2) The CW would like you to go green, and get the "West Bev" look, by wearing incredible expensive vintage clothes. No really, their tip was "wear vintage".

Back to the show. Laura brings up an interesting idea; the milkshake as an emotion. Nigel made fun of her for it, but I think milkshake is a very valid emotion. I can definitely think of times in my life when I've been feeling milkshakey. The editors keep trying to stress the competition throughout, with all the judges talking about "how close it is". Tyra has one on one talks with them, where she's basically like "look how awesome my show is and how lucky these loser girls were and also I'm going to turn them into gingerbread cookies and eat them." Laura talks about how being on ANTM means she's been more successful than the entire rest of her family, and cries some. Nicole sits there and analyzes her competitor's commercial vs. resale value.

Then onto the runway show. Seems the Cash for Clunkers program did more than cause a shortage in used cars, it also caused a shortage in short models. Aw snap. Tyra can't find any petite models at all, anywhere in the world, so she brings back all the kicked off contestants and also Eddie Murphy's daughter? The dresses they wear are ABSOLUTELY HIDEOUS. Seriously, who is this designer, and somebody please make her live in Canada for a little while, because Hawaii has fucked her brain. Laura is wearing the sequin equivalent of a tramp stamp, and Nicole is dressed in a thrift store prom dress from 1967 dyed pink to clash with her hair. Nicole is so mad about her dress, she stomps down the runway like a Terminator. Tyra calls it her signature walk. I call it her "I don't know how to walk on a runway at all, because we've had zilch practice at it this season, and also I learned to walk last year. " Laura does pretty well. At the end, Laura and Nicole make a porno. Tyra comes backstage after the show to look completely horrified while lying through her teeth about how well they did.

In the end, Nicole won. Duh. But she used her victory for good, as she completely undermined Tyra's whole Tiny Girls Farm theme, and went with this takeaway instead...

"I'm a dork, and I'm America's Next Top Model!"

On Glee
that music teacher tries to persuade Rachel not to like him by singing her THIS SONG. THE MOST PERVERTED SONG ON THE OLDIES STATION THAT I AM SO HAPPY THEY USED ON NATIONAL TELEVISION.



Top Chef: Jennifer Versus Eli

I learned about the Bucose D'Or this episode. I suspect most of America learned about it this episode, which explained why the winner of this episode got an invite for the qualifying rounds, because the advisory board finally caught on that unless they get some money for this thing, USA is never gonna get in the finishing three. Apparently, an American competitor has never placed higher than sixth in this "culinary olympics". So obviously its a foolish European thing we can safely ignore.

But this is all not very interesting. The real question of the night was would my top four make it to the finale intact, or would I lose a lot of money on the internet and have to sell my eggs?

For the Quickfire, Padma was joined by an abnormally large dwarf, who challenged the chefs to make a Turducken, only not really, cause that's gross. Jennifer scared me, by making some quip about actually making a turducken. But when Padma tasted her dish, and graced her with a warm "Welcome back Jennifer", I knew all was well. Jenn in fact won the challenge. Take that Eli!

Then everyone talked about how much they loved Eli, and I knew it was in the bag.

Look, I'm sure Eli is really talented. I'm doing him the honor of actually spelling his name right finally, so that should mean something. But he's a baby. And he was ruining my prediction.

So for the Elimination, they hold a fake Bucose D'Or, and Thomas Keller comes and dusts everyone with French Laundry crumbs (which bestow upon the winner every James Beard award ever). Everyone has to make some really technically perfect salmon or lamb dishes, and it looks like everyone kind of failed, but that doesn't stop the guests at the table from congratulating themselves on how great they, the judges, are. After all, it's awfully intimidating to cook for their level of genius right?

All the lamb is undercooked. All the salmon is overcooked. Kevin wins. Eli goes home. And the Voltron brothers spend most of their time trying to convince the audience that they are villains, which sort of works, except Bryan is too nice to ever be a real villain. There should be a sci-fi corollary here. I'm too tired to think of it.

But the time has come. My magic Final Four are off to Napa Valley, and next episode! Stay tuned! Padma in bangs!