WHEEEEE!!!! Back wit da bitches and de hos.

Where does the time go? It seems like only yesterday we were cheering on Big Whitney, and dissing the other hamsters (whose names we have already forgotten), and here we are, back on the sofa, cosmos in one hand, notebook in the other. Shall we begin?

We are in El Ay, and there is a bio-diesel bus and lots of very skinny girls. They are being taken to the Top Model Institute of Technology, where they will be molded into potential top models. Or just reality teevee fodder. Either way, yo? There is much silver, and bad special FX and Miss Jay in a white blonde wig and Mr. Jay in a really cute set of short extensions, giving him a tousled look. We love it.

The girls fly by: Sheena is Asian and from Harlem. Elina is a vegan and into animal liberation. This is a cause only someone with an IQ below room temperature can get behind. Does this mean I shouldn’t have a house cat or spay or neuter it? Because surely keeping the Ming inside is alien to his widdle kitty nature. As is neutering him. I’d better stop now before I digress to far into that train of thought. There is Isis (I had a Russian Blue named Isis) who can’t walk to save her life, and Clark who claims that her walk is intimidating. I think she means imbecilic. Joslyn twirls around for no apparent reason.

The 2 Jays reveal the Glaminator 11.0 which is a large box, and after they shake it around, out comes the Tyra-Bot. This entire set was designed by someone who thought the sets on the 1970s-era Dr. Who were too sophisticated. And who also found the original Star Treks too well written and acted. TyraBot and company demand to be beamed up fiercely.

The hos reveal their secrets to the panel: Joslyn says that her mind was opened. I’m not sure by what. Some blue-eyed blonde claims to be exotic. Only in Syria, babe. Clark reveals that she is a mean-spirited, manipulative cunt. Casey, who is Black, tells Tyra and the Jays that she is white because she has white friends…who aren’t really her friends because they don’t understand why she won’t go swimming with them. CLUE: It’s the hair.  Marjorie is French and although she came to America as a seven year old, still talks like a French Canadian with a mild speech impediment. She’s got the Agynss Deyn thing going on and seems to live in black tights. It’s kind of cute…now.  Veronique is a Mormon. Those people are like belly buttons on reality shows: everybody has one. Isis was one of the extras in last year’s homeless shoot. She was homeless and living in a shelter. And she’s a he. With an Adam’s apple and a man’s voice. She’s pre-op. Sheena has a tongue stud which we see whenever she talks. Clark’s really a self-involved bitch. Hannah is from Fairbanks and didn’t have running water, electricity or indoor plumbing until she came to LA for the show. Joslyn has auditioned at least three times each season, which, by her tally means that she’s tried out at least 30 times. No wonder they let her on. Get over it, already.

Elina explains herself a little more. She’s not just a vegan, she’s a bi-sexual vegan who wants to convert all the hamsters to Sapphic love. And with that we cut to Big Whitney’s first Cover Girl commercial. She’s cute, she enunciates and has inflection to her voice. It is the first ANTM “my life as a cover girl” commercial in 10 seasons that does not make me throw things at the teevee. RJ and I just stare at each other in dumbfounded amazement.

Brittney S (There are three Brittneys in the running) has red hair of a color not found in nature. She is really, really pretty and a cage fighter. RJ and I have high hopes of a smack-down somewhere around week 5. Susan is a Harvard grad, with a double major in English Lit and something else. Tyra asks her who her favorite English Romantic heroine is and the crickets come out to chirp. She does not know from the sisters Bronte, from Dickens, from Austen. She can’t even summon up a brain cell for Jack London’s White Fang. Hell, I would have been amused if she could have done Soupy Sales’ White Fang. She does nothing for Harvard’s rep.

Samantha wants to “change the industry” and cannot name five designers or models. We are in the idiots who will only get air time to prove we do have a vetting system portion of the evening. The models have been winnowed down to 20, and the only way they will find out if they are in or out is to place their hand on the sci-fi scanner. If they are in, they will be granted access to the next room. It’s sort of cruel, which is why we like it. They have 5 minutes to get into their metallic cat suits and do their own make up. Then, there will be photos. The TryaBot and the Alpha and Beta Jays beam fiercely for the second and I hope last time.

Our final selection is: Sheena, Analeigh, Nikeesha, Marjorie, Samantha, Elina, Brittney R, Brittney S, Brittney B, Hannah, Lauren, Isis, Clark and Josyln. One of the girls has a pair of lucky ANTM panties. I hope she goes home first.

PART TWO

The first thing we have to do is make two of the Brittneys change their names. My girl crush cage fighter becomes M’Key. Brittney B is Shauron. Isis is causing much confusion and concern among the other hamsters. How does she hide the junk? Tape. M’Key is totally into Isis and bonds immediately. Clark and one of the other nameless, faceless, brainless hamsters, however, are disturbed by the presence of a “man” among the mice. Honey, she isn’t into you. She don’t want to use the junk. Accept this person as the greatest gift Tyra has ever given you, and consider her your biggest competitor. DUH. No, they are all about the hate, these two. And then Clark rags on my girl M’Key. I’m not feeling the love for Clark. I hope she gets a shitty make over.

The hamsters are taken to the Magic Castle Hotel and Private Club for Magicians. There they meet some hack who pulls Nigel and Paulina out of another box. Time for some introductory face time with the judges. Marjorie answers Nigel’s question: Who’s your favorite fashion photographer correctly: You, Nigel. Nigel interviews that the only girl who knew anything about the industry was Isis. HAH! And then Nigel finds out she’s packing a little extra.

The hamsters get home to find some basics: black pumps, skinny jeans, plain t-shirts. Unfortunately, nobody has yet to tell them that the chonga earrings have to go, and they are ALL wearing the chongas.

Their first shoot will be a politically-themed one. Mike Rosenthal, one of Tyra’s favorite shooters will be on deck. Marjorie takes on Immigration. She shows some variety and some awkwardness. Brittney does the Military and doesn’t suck. Clark has no idea what her word means: Bureaucracy, but when she sees all the red tape on the set, she thinks she may have a hint. It doesn’t help her. She’s stiff, plastic and Barbie. M’Key fights for the Environment. Literally. Little boxer stance. But pretty. Big Whitney gets A SECOND AD. And it doesn’t suck either. RJ and I are charmed

Hannah has to deal with Nukes. She isn’t sure how she feels about the issue. Isis has Privacy as her assignment and Clark and another couple of girls are used in the background. They spend their time behind the screen telling Isis she needs a shave and making other hateful sniping. Isis sucks it up and does beautifully. Classy kid. Isis is my early favorite. Well, Isis and M’Key. Sheena/Energy; Joslyn/Unemployment; Analeigh/Health; Sharaun/Homeland Security (and she bitches and moans); Samantha/Economy; Lauren/Education; Nikeysha/Cloning. They pretty much all suck.

At judging, Miss Jay’s schtick for the season is going to be giant blinged out numbers on a chain. It looks like it came from Flava Flav’s House of Bling. Nigel and Paulina start arguing immediately. Nigel sees nerves when he looks at Marjorie and Paulina sees a brain. Sharaun couldn’t pose. Clark was awful and didn’t understand the concept. Elina is hailed as the second coming of Katherine Zeta-Jones. I think by me. Nikeysha’s legs look lumpy and she argues with the judges and makes excuses.

Samantha is clocked for looking like she “went crazy at the mall” when she dressed. Joslyn is made to loose her accessories, too. Hannah is told to lose the “Gossip Girl” headband. Isis is told to take care of her raggedy hair, but her photo was perfect.

Miss Jay makes up a new word for Sharaun: Fladunkasauress, but it’s Clark who is called the worst in the bunch. The best picture of the week goes to Marjorie, and in an effort to work the nerves of the house bitches, her photo will be on display for the week in the house. Nice. Isis gets the second photo.

The bottom two are Sharaun and Nikeysha. Nikeysha is called touchy and argumentative, but Sharaun is just bad and uninspiring. She is out. And drops like a rock to the ground and moans and weeps and howls. Wow.

Next week, Elina kisses Clark in the hot tub and Hannah isn’t sure if she’s a racist.

We open with a lovely montage of Rome and highlights (or lowlifes) of our time there with the bitches and the hos, and end in the limo with the final four. Big Whitney is all twitterpated because she’s been in the bottom two twice now, and usually the second time means an exit interview. She is both stunned and relieved to find herself still here and Katarzyna gone.

Anya is riding high on her multiple challenge wins and assures us that she is not worried, and knows that she “brings it” on set. Brings what, she does not say. Coffee for the crew, perhaps? Donuts for Mr. Jay? Back in Ca Trya, the artwork on the walls has been switched to all Salacious D, all the time. Perhaps to remind us who won last year? Or perhaps to give Dominique-inique-inique the segue to this monologue: “I knew as soon as I laid eyes on her last year that she’d be the winner. She had it all. I’m the Salacious D of this season.” Uh, no. Unless you mean saddled with an unfortunate make-over. In any event, Dominique-inique-inique says she has a headache (She says that a lot. Maybe she actually listens to herself talk, because she sure gives me a headache.) and wanders out of the room. The other three take the opportunity to play the how-do-we-dislike-Dominique-inique-inique? Let-us-count-the-ways game. She’s a tranny. She’s a know it all. She’s delusional. She’s a secret eater. She eats off other people’s plates. She eats candy in bed in the middle of the night. She’s annoying. She also thinks that she is the most improved “girl” in the house. Well, if by that you mean…no. There is no way that can be true under any circumstances.

Next we have Fatima confessionalizing her own mission on this planet, which is to win this competition. To which I say, meh. If I were you, my first mission would be to find a dermatologist and follow her instructions to the letter. And bringing up the rear of the praise be to me train in Anya, who says she is so impressed with herself and her multiple wins. And I’m either getting used to her weird ass speech impediment, or she’s secretly been practicing her elocution, because I understood what she said. Not, of course, why she would say it, but what she said.

Finally and at last, the long dark night of the soulless models is over and we come to the next morning and Tyra Lisa mail. “Take a picture, maybe you’ll last longer.” Hmm. Sort of the whole plot of the series, right there in seven words. The hamsters squeal, a little half-heartedly and haven’t a clue as to what this might mean. Katarzya was the brains, wasn’t she? Off we go to a park. Trees. Grass. Paulina. Paulina posing for photographer Francecso Licata. His job today will be to teach the girls (and Dominique-inique-inique) how to take shoot with an SLR. Paulina says that this knowledge of photography can be helpful when one is on the other side of the lens. I wish Lauren were here for this. She’d kick the other hamsters’ asses to the curb. I mean, have you seen her artwork? Fierce. And I say that with all sincerity.

To begin, the FinalFabFour all shoot each other, but alas, there are no bullets in the cameras. Dominique-inique-inique and Fatima spend most of their time tearing each other down. It is boring and lame. Ann Shoket and her nose arrive to tell the hamsters the nature of this challenge. They will each get five minutes to shoot Paulina. The winner of the challenge will get an extra 50 frames at the next photo shoot. We know from past seasons how great a prize that is. It usually ensures a win. Fatima says that she absolutely has to win this and get those extra 50 frames. She goes first.

Anya says that Fatima was good at giving direction. Paulina says that Fatima was strong, and led her along by the hand toward a vision and that she (Paulina) wanted to go on that trip. Dominique-inique-inique is next and takes advantage of the fact that Paulina is a pro and tells her to do what ever she wants. What she wants is to stand there and make Dominique-inique-inique give her direction. Unfortunately for all concerned, this leads to posing in front of a random cactus. Actually, it looked like a Spanish Bayonet, and those have some wicked sharp points. I hope Paulina wasn’t hurt. Anya says that Dominique-inique-inique had no vision. Paulina says that Dom wanted to do something great, but was clueless as to what or how.

Whitney gave Paulina direction while keeping in mind that Paulina is a judge, and a pro and can make or break her career. Or at least her time on ANTM. Dom opines that Big Whitney came across as professional. Paulina says that Whitters was fun to work with, and didn’t hesitate to take control of the shoot.

Anya has ideas, all of them awful. One idea involves Paulina throwing a pile of leaves in the air and watching in wonder as they fall around her. Another involves Paulina looking at a flower and tugging on its leaves in wonderment. I feel that a lot of Anya and her childlike wonder of the world around her is coming through here. I’m just saying. Well, you know what I’m saying. Big Whitney says that Anya was all over the place. Paulina is more delicate, suggesting that perhaps, just perhaps, Anya might want to try to focus.

Ann Shoket and her nose return to give the final critiques and announce the winner. Whitney’s beauty shots were perfect and Paulina liked working with her. Anya was the most fun to work with, even though a lot of her ideas didn’t work. Fatima gave the most options, and Dominique-inique-inique had lousy compositions, i.e.: lots of cactus hats. (snork) The winner is Fatima. I don’t know why, since everything sounded like it would be Whitney. Fatima, naturally, assures the world that she deserved the win. Gracious in victory, that one.

Back at the apartment, Fatima practices her walk while Dominique-inique-inique tells her that she sucks and doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing. Fatima replies “I’m rubber, you’re glue; whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.” And also, “neener, neener, I won and you didn’t you big old secret eating loser.” Dominique-inique-inique goes off into the confessional to drone on and on about herself in the third person, while Anya interviews that Dom sucks all the energy out of a room and then clutches her head and says “I’m melting…” It is one of the high moments of this season.

Salacious D has her moment of life as a Cover Girl. It involves walking in a Tibi fashion show.

Back in Rome, there is more Tyra Lisa mail, and the requisite squealing (albeit somewhat half-hearted at this stage of the game) ensues. Blah, blah, blood, blah, blah, fame. Blah, blah, no clue. But wait: here IS a clue. Dominique-inique-inique interviews that she isn’t sure if Big Whitney is going home this week, but better Big Whitney than Dominique-inique-inique.

The shoot this week is a night shot. The hamsters will be dressed up like movie stars from the 50s. They will be paired with a random Italian male model and the concept is that they are ducking down a staircase in the dead of night, only to be surprised and shot by the paparazzi. Nigel (swoon, drool) will be their photographer, and he’ll be shooting the whole thing: paparazzi, movie stars, stairs. The word of the day from Mr. Jay is “cinematic”. He should have explained what that meant, because none of the hamsters get the concept at freakin all. Anya assures us that she can take direction and give energy. She can also look like a wax copy of Gwen Steffani. Mr. Jay resorts to calling her name and distracting her in order to get a decent shot. Actually, her best shot is one where she is stepping out of her shoe and slipping. Luck be a lady.

Fatima comes to set with her usual stank attitude and says that she has a huge advantage because she won the challenge and has 50 extra frames. After 11 weeks, the girl still has a hard time facing into the camera and/or the light. She hears, but does not take, Mr. Jay’s and Nigel’s directions. She needs all fifty of her extra frames, and still sucks wind. Nigel snarks at her “Honey, that stuff isn’t inspiring.”

Big Whitney takes the set and echoes of Tyra’s “play down the hootchie” still ringing in her ears, she plays down the glamour. No one is impressed. She interviews that she didn’t do her best, but hopefully she looked pretty?

Dominique-inique-inique is ghastly. She’s stiff and stagey. Mr. Jay keeps telling her to move it around. That this is supposed to look like a still frame from a movie. Crickets. Mr. Jay interviews that the whole evening was awful, that nobody got the concept or took a decent shot and that Dominique-inique-inique even took steps backward. All the hamsters pick up on this vibe and are nervous going into panel. The guest judge is Ann Shoket and her great honking nose.

Anya gets the first critique. She looks good, but didn’t bring STAR! Big Whitney looked stunning, but also a little stunned. Paulina says she looks gorgeous, but stiff. Dominique-inique-inique arrives dressed like a cheap cocktail waitress on a morning run to Wal-Mart for diapers. Paulina takes one look at the photo and cries “TRANNY” then backtracks and says, but beautiful tranny. Miss Jay rolls her eyes. Fatima took a romantic shot, a Cover Girl shot, which is fine and dandy, but not the assignment. She tries the old, “I don’t know nuffin’ ‘bout having a boyfriend” schtick and Tyra calls foul. Oh, no, says Tyra. Don’t even go there. As a model you are paid to do and be things that you have never done and never were. Nice fucking try, beeyotch. Back to your place in line.

In the judging, Anya is credited for lucking into a great shot. But she wasn’t in control of it. Ann says that Anya oozes glamour. As opposed to say, Fatima who oozes stank and Dominique-inique-inique, who just oozes. In her photo, Fatima looks beautiful, but not startled. She came off snotty on set, and everyone agrees that she doesn’t listen. Ann thinks that Whitney isn’t using enough hootchie. Tyra neglects to mention that this would be because she’s been telling Whitney to play down the hootchie for 11 weeks. The whole make up contract thing is seen as problematic for that big old snout-nosed tranny Dominique-inique-inique. Miss Jay gets the best line of the night by saying (in a basso profundo) that that’s why it’s called Cover Girl, because it covers up the man in you. Bwahahahahaha.

The photos go to Anya (strongest in a weak bunch, and then only by luck) and Whitney (quit trying so hard). This leaves our protagonists, Dominique-inique-inique and her best enemy Fatima in the bottom two. Who stays? The tranny who started out bad, then got better and finally sucked so badly even the judges couldn’t ignore it? Or the pimply-faced egotist with the dreadful past and a total inability to take direction? Hmmm. Hard call, and they can’t send two girls home tonight, so Fatima gets to stick around for another week.

Next week? A Cover Girl commercial and a muthafuckin walk-off.

Ciao, bellas. We are in Rome. And before we go any further, let me give you, directly lifted from Wikipedia, the etymology of the word “ciao”, which, you will see, is more closely related to the hamsters’ relationship to Tyra than we suspected:

The word derives from the Venetian phrase s-ciào vostro or s-ciào su literally meaning “I am your slave”. This greeting is analogous to the Latin Servus which is still used in a large section of Central/Eastern Europe. The expression was not a literal statement of fact, of course, but rather a perfunctory promise of good will among friends (along the lines “if you ever need my help, count on me”). Indeed, to this day the greeting ciao is used in Italy only among peers, family members, and close friends, being considered too informal to use with superiors or strangers.

You see? They are her servants, non? Well, I digress. We are in Roma, which we know because we keep seeing the Coliseum and the Spanish Steps. Sooner or later Miz Shoes will be reduced to singing “When I Paint My Masterpiece” or at least those lyrics dealing with the Spanish Steps. In fact, I’m singing it in my head even now.

So. We are in Rome, in a bus or something, and the girls are all excited to be abroad. Whitney has never been to Rome. Anya has never been abroad. So much for teh intarweb theories about her being from Eastern Europe. Lauren doesn’t fit in. They reach some destination or another on one of the hills overlooking the city, and Anya promptly face-plants upon exiting the bus. The other girls don’t help her up, and she doesn’t seem to break anything and even exhibits good humor over the incident. Where’s the drama in that? Whitney then yammers on about how no plus-size girl has gotten this far in the competition before. While I like her, for the most part, and feel she takes some fine pictures, the girl needs to tone down the ego. Although, in all fairness, there have been some very plus-sized egos taking home the prize (ahem, JASLENE). Fatima interviews how, after being in the bottom two and almost not getting her letters of transit, she is tewtally ready to kick out the jams, muthafuckers.

Katarzyna interviews about the new digs. Huh. She speaks. She gets airtime. What are the editors trying to do to me? She says, in her completely non-accented and all-Amurikin way, that the new home is “off the chain”. And in all fairness, while that may not have been the phrase I would have chosen, it is. There is sculpture. There is a swimming pool in the living room. There are bunk beds. There is a garden. It is fabu.

The next day, Fatima wakes up sick. Dominique-inique-inique takes this as a classic opening to kick the competition when down and proceeds to opine how Fatima doesn’t have what it takes and she sucks and like that. Anya listens for a second or two, then hates on the haters and takes Fatima some chicken. Aww. Sweet. I’d ask for a food taster, first, though. You know, just in case Dominique-inique-inique had a hand in the preparation. In any event, Fatima doesn’t want the chicken, she wants sympathy because she’s come so far, against such odds, and it isn’t fair that she’s sick now and she doesn’t want to go home. Wahwahwah. Eat the chicken, bitch.

The next morning, Lauren is clomping around in her size 10 Chuck Taylors and making an early morning racket. The other girls (and Dominique-inique-inique) don’t like this at all. Whitney confessionalizes that she thinks that Lauren is over the competition. The Tyra mail (which is, thankfully, back in print) features a picture of Tyra’s face superimposed onto the Mona Lisa (Oh, no, she din’t) and says something about rolling. The girls and Dominique-inique-inique head off to meet someone or another who is the head of Gai Matiollo’s design team. They all get a Segway for a rolling tour of Roma. There is some minor hilarity as they fail to master the Segway. Katarzyna, in particular has a hard time and keeps rolling backwards. Lauren keeps falling off. Good times. They finally manage to all stay on, and head off around the city, as our Random Designer Guy points out random, yet utterly magnifico Roman women, trying to impart some style sense to our poor hamsters. At the Spanish Steps (great. now I’ve got that damn song running in my head again) they hop off their Segways (why not Vespas? Aren’t Vespas like, the official vehicle of Rome? Even though Random Designer Guy’s Segway had shiny red rims, it’s no Roman Holiday. STYLE, people!) hop off their Segways and head off to meet Gai. Their challenge today will be to emulate the effortless chic of the average Roman woman. Good luck with that. Fortunately, the girls and Dominique-inique-inique are helped by Gai’s people and not left to flounder around helpless and clueless.

Gai comes out to do the judging and the hamsters do a short up and back on an imaginary cat walk. Fatima, he says is elegant. She is also coughing, just so everyone knows she sick. A-hem, a-hem. Good lord that woman has a collar bone looks like somebody stuck a couple of wooden hangers under her skin. Eat the chicken, Fatima. Dominique-inique-inique is natural, but not fresh. No. You think? Honey, the expiration date on that thing was last century. Katarzyna is beautiful. Anya is blonde, skinny, young and fresh. (He likes her, non?) Whitney is so American. She can go far with her beautiful face. Lauren, says Gai, with delicacy, is very tall and has some great legs. (Too bad she’s still working out how to use them for walking.) Gai says that the winner of the challenge will get one of his red-carpet gowns for her next red-carpet event. As much as he would like to give one to each, there can be only one winner, and that winner is Anya. Whitney’s head explodes.

Back in ça Tyra, there is Tyra Lisa mail announcing something in Italian. Katarzyna is able to translate this into “easy, breezy, Cover Girl” and from there, extrapolate that the next challenge will be the Cover Girl commercial, in Italian. She’s the brains of this operation, Katarzyna is. Lauren melts down in a series of crap, crap, craps and says that this is the moment she’s been dreading. The moment when they try to make her beautiful and white bread, because that just isn’t her. Which of course, begs the question what the fuck are you doing here then, competing for a Cover Girl contract if you don’t like it and don’t want it? Miz Shoes rolls her eyes at this so hard that her left may now be her right. In any event, after a good night’s sleep, we see Lauren snoring like pig, getting woken up for the day’s events. I love Lauren. I do. And the fact that she snores has made it true love. She confessionalizes that she would very much like to run away now, but seeing as how she’s sort of stuck in the middle of Rome, can’t. Dammit, Beavis, she’ll just do her best and hope.

At the shoot, Brent Poer is telling the girls to memorize their lines, and Mr. Jay is giving Lauren shit because he sees how this is going to go down for her. Piersandro Buzzanca is their director for the shoot. He walks them through, showing them where to hit their marks and when to deliver their lines. He advises them to play with attitude. Anya tells us that this is going to be vewy hawd, because they have to walk AND apply lipstick! Oh NOES! Scary! Hard! They will each get thirty minutes to try to do this. And we’re off.

Anya is up first, looking like a cheap Gwen Steffani knock-off. Mr. Jay says she looks lost. She gives it her all, then says to the crew: “Grat-zee-yah!” She is then advised that would be Spanish, not Italian, and not particularly good Spanish, either. NEXT! Katarzyna speaks many languages and is able to fake the Italian pretty well. Her delivery, though, is flat at best.

Dominique-inique-inique tells us that

s

he is gonna be the Cover Girl, so

s

he is just gonna have FUN! with this shoot. If

s

he doesn’t know it,

s

he’ll just make it up. And so

s

he does. It is frightening.

S

he is all over the place, and all over awful. Lauren is petrified. She can’t move. She’s so awkward and uncomfortable that Mr. Jay says she’s hard to watch. Fatima is losing her voice, she says, A-hem A-hem, little cough, but she’ll soldier on. Her face is purple compared to the rest of her. I can’t believe how bad the make up is on this shoot. Sutan needs to get her eyes checked for color matching. Our director thinks that Fatima is “a goddess. Her Italian is the best.” Meh. Since they all sucked, this is faint praise, as far as I’m concerned. Big Whitney comes out and just goes so over the top that even Miz Shoes, who is a fan of Big Whitney, wants to slap the smug and the smirk and the fake right off her face. Mr. Jay HATES her and tells her that she’s so fake it’s coming off as bitchy. This makes Miz Shoes very sad.

Back to ça Tyra, where the girls are reliving the day. Lauren says that she sucked so hard she could be going home. Big Whitney says that she gave energy, but in a bad way. And she looks so cute and acts so sweet right there. Why can’t you bring that to the judging panel, huh? Speaking of which, there we are. In the judging room. Tyra explains to the girls and Dominique-inique-inique that in Italian, high fashion is translated to alta moda, and that the biggest fashion show in all of Italy is held on the Spanish Steps. (Fine. But you made me do this. “Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble, Ancient footprints are everywhere. You can almost think that you’re seein’ double On a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs. Got to hurry on back to my hotel room, Where I’ve got me a date with Botticelli’s niece. She promised that she’d be right there with me When I paint my masterpiece..” There. Are you happy now?) Tyra informs us that she has walked in that show FOUR times. PHHHHBBBT.

Our guest judge today is Piersandro Buzzanca, the commercial director. Let’s see the best takes, shall we? Fatima and her purple face are icky, and she’s kinda sleazy/sexy. Not to mention those collar bones. Put a flag on the end of those things, before you take someone’s eye out. Whitney is just ghastly. Paulina says that she was fake from beginning to end and that she (Paulina) particularly hates the finger to the cheek and the breathy laugh. Tyra says that she was over the top, but that she (Tyra) liked it.  Anya, according to Miss Jay, is horrible, too. Tyra says that her commercial is just pure D-dookie. The director says, well, yeah, but she LOOKS like a model. Dominique-inique-inique is so unbelievably horrendous that Miss Jay is practically pissing herself from laughing. Trya is horrified by it, and Paulina scared. Piersandro tries to be nice by saying, well, she brought energy to the set?

Lauren is pathetic, and prompts a Hell to the No from Miss Jay. Nigel is disgusted and tells Lauren that she just threw it away and didn’t even try. Paulina is completely disappointed and says that she was afraid that this is what Lauren would do, and she did. Piersandro says that Lauren was terrified on the set. Katarzya starts by instructing Tyra on how to correctly (after 10 weeks) pronounce her name. The judges note that she’s actually talking. Katarzyna says that yes, after last week when they told her that her personality was disappearing, she thought “Oh, no you din’t” and Tyra promptly teaches her how to say that correctly. She is critiqued with a bringing the boring back to sexy and Tyra thanks her, mispronouncing her name again. Katarzyna tries again to get Trya to say her name correctly and Tyra just gives her a finger wiggle and says “you’re dismissed.” Yah. Don’t push it Kat.

The judges deliberate. None of the girls or Dominique-inique-inique could do a commercial to save their life, so starting with low expectations, Fatima looked beautiful (but purple). Whitney is a big old Fakey McFakersons. Anya looks like a model, but, as Nigel astutely points out, you can’t understand a word she says in English or faux-Italian. Lauren produces the best still photos but completely melted down on set. Katarzya did well on set. Dominique-inique-inique is so not a Cover Girl. Miss Jay says that she thinks Dominique-inique-inique is a brother, and Paulina agrees whole heartedly. All the judges agree that he makes them howl with laughter, and not for the right reasons. SO. Tyra hands out the photos in this order:

Fatima, Katarzyna, Anya, Dominique-inique-inique (you were a mess, but you had fun and didn’t give up). Whitney and Lauren stand side by side, and Miz Shoes calls bullshit. Dominique-inique-inique clearly should have gone home, but is too much fun for the judges to toy with and the audience to hate, so he got to stay. That means that Lauren or Whitney has to be sacrificed tonight. Whitney takes gorgeous pix, but everyone thinks she’s phoney. Even Miss America doesn’t want Miss America anymore, says Tyra. Lauren on the other hand, couldn’t hide her real self if they handed her a tarpaulin and told her to stand under it. She takes amazing pictures, too, but gave up at the commercial shoot. Who should stay, and who should go? (Miz Shoes already answered that, Tyra. Dominique-inique-inique should be given the ticket back to palookaville, thanks and both these beauties should stay). So home goes Lauren, much to Miz Shoes sorrow, and Big Whitney gets to stick around for the redemption arc (a la Eva the Diva) and probably the win.

Next week? Martial arts and a fight in the Colliseum. Will Dominique-inique-inique be fed to the lions? One can only hope.

We open in the kitchen, with Whitney, who is opining as to how happy she is to be there. Lauren exhibits some serious Dittoheadness and allows as how she is very happy to be there, too. Stacey Ann is happy and doesn’t want to leave. O, editors, have you gotten as jaded as the rest of us? We haven’t even gotten to the first commercial and there is already foreshadowing of doom? Happy to be here, happy to be here, doesn’t want to go home. Which of these three girls will be packing their bags by the end of the episode do you think?

But wait! Here is Fatima, reminding us that she is not a US citizen, and thankfully, not reminding us of her special condition i.e.: her female circumcision. But really, and come on, who, having heard about it once, can ever forget it? In any event, her lack of citizenship is noted because she is also, somehow, without her travel papers, and she’s thinking that it’s about time to leave the country or get thrown off the show. One or the other. And I think that I speak for a lot of us when I say that getting thrown off the show is sounding pretty good to us right now.

Finally, Anya says something about something. There is a lot of debate on the intarwebs about Anya. Is she foreign-born, but not allowed to be Slavic/Eastern European because we already have one of those in Katarzya? (Sort of like Nic wasn’t allowed to be gay because they already had Kim cast as the lesbian in that season) Or does she speak pidgin as a first language? Or is she deaf or born of non-hearing persons? Does she just have a weird-ass speech impediment or a really weird-ass accent? We’ll never know, I suppose. But she needs sub-titles.

Finally, we are gifted with some action. Paulina comes to the loft and this elicits much high-pitched squealing from the hamsters. She is here to do the interview and mingle lesson that all top models need. She will practice with them as they pretend to be at a fabulous party. She will be Miss Dubois, the owner of a cosmetic company. They must impress her. Anya goes first and except for the fact that nothing she says is in the least bit understandable, she does well. Stacey Ann comes up next and grovels over Miss Dubois’ line of moisturizer. Dominique-inique-inique blahblahblahs on and on for about thirty minutes, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Paulina’s eyes glaze. Keep it short, she says. Whitney had blank eyes.

Next we play pretend red carpet and the hamsters must think on their feet. This will be hard. It’s bad. It’s so bad, that we cut to the kitchen, where Lauren and Whitney are going to make potato pancakes, or latkes, as my people say. We get a close up of Lauren being as graceful with a kitchen knife as she is with her big ole size 10s as she Frankenlopes down a runway. This is not boding well. And, sure enough, she slices through her thumbnail and thumb. She’s pretty stoic about it, and the producers haul her off for this season’s emergency room visit. Me? Every time I do that shit, I’m cursing like a longshoreman. But Lauren just sucks it up and goes.

Back to Fatima and her consulate telling her that she waited until the last minute to get/replace/deal with the missing papers. Insert Casablanca joke here. I am impressed anew with how truly terrible Fatima’s skin is. Where’s the dermatologist they had for Yaya? Respeto! Well, whatever. Back in the living room is a huge gold box, containing… lemons, limes and an invitation to a 7-Up green carpet event. Whitney blahblahblahs about being plus sized. Yeah. We get it. You’re a big girl. Bitch, you are still younger, prettier and thinner than me, so stick a sock in it already, OK? Well, her problems are solved, because the doorbell rings and in comes a big old rack of party dresses and a stylist, all courtesy of one Jay Godfrey, who is the subject of this green carpet event. Or is it diet 7-Up? The product placement is making me dizzy. Unless it’s the carbonation.

Fatima is too stressed about her

bad skin

missing visas to unclench long enough to look pretty. It doesn’t matter, because they have to go and work the carpet and the party. Don’t forget to mention who designed your dress! Rock on, little hamsters.

Anya tells the interviewer that she (Anya) is an inspiration. To what? To whom? Why? Who says? Dominique-inique-inique says that she’s wearing Jay Georgio. Which she isn’t. Oopsies. Lauren is looking hot with an enormous thumb bandage and probably a fair amount of pain killers on board and answers the question of why she should be AMTN by saying that she could just kick the shit out of the other girls in the house. Works for me. Whitney, on the other hand, says that as a Normal Sized woman, who eats like a Normal American, she should be the winner. And off they go to the par-tay, where Nigel disses Whitney with a “wots all this then?” Lauren shmoozes Nigel and Ric Ocasek (with whose work Lauren is actually familiar, and thereby earns even more of Miz Shoes’ love). Nigel is impressed. Ric is too, but that’s the last we’ll see of him.

Stacey Ann interviews that she has this one in the little beaded handbag because she is aces at selling herself. Indeed. She’s up on some platform, announcing who designed her dress and shaking hands all around and telling everyone that she’s from Miami and geez, I’m exhausted just watching snippets of her. The editors are over her too, so off we go to the judges telling us what they thought.

Anya was charming. Eh? Dominique-inique-inique didn’t know her designer. Lauren needs to lose the potty mouth. Why? Works for Kate Moss. Stacey Ann charmed no-one and over thought everything. So Anya wins, and Whitney’s face falls because she clearly thought that she won just for keeping the girls covered in that horrible metallic blue, cut to her pipik, trash bag Jay Godfrey stuck her in. What does Anya win? A photo shoot for Diet 7-up that involves being “natural” (aka nekkid) in a bunch of leaves and lemons and limes. She gets a check for ten thousand dollars and a basket of lemons and limes for her troubles.

Salacious-D has Cover Girl ad. And she tells us that now that she’s a role model and everything, Cover Girl has dragged her ass down to the courthouse and made her register to vote, something she hadn’t bothered with before now. Miz Shoes doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry, thank or curse Cover Girl for this. But they’re pushing the vote, so I have to fall on the side of thankfulness, I guess. Unless there was some subliminal message to vote Republican that years of jaundice over the state of the union caused me not to see.

Well. Anyway, Fatima gets a meeting at the consulate through the auspices of the show’s producers. Which is a good thing, because the next scene is the hamsters squealing (again) over some Scrolling Tyra Message that leads them to believe that they’ll be heading abroad in the next 24 hours. Squealing. Packing. Fatima wandering around like a zombie. At 5:30 in the morning the girls and Dominique-inique-inique are hauled off to an airport with their carry-on luggage. At 7 a.m. they find themselves on a tarmac with a mini-jet. Squealing. Excitement at flying away in a tiny little jet plane. Somewhere close, I should hope. You couldn’t shove Miz Shoes on a plane that size and expect her to fly to Europe. Nuh-uh. No sireee. No freaking way. Bermuda. Maybe. If we had enough fuel to by-pass the triangle. But it doesn’t matter, because the only place the hamsters are going is hair and make up because it was a FAKE OUT!!!! Except for Fatima, for whom it is a freak out, because she has to take her spotty face back into the city and try to convince the consulate to issue her travel papers. Unless she can find Ugarte and his letters of transit. Unless he’s already given them to Rick. In which case she’ll have to try and get them before Victor Lazlo.

I digress. It’s a group shot, and each girl and Dominique-inique-inique will get a chance to be the star. There is a vintage theme to the shoot, and our photographer is Bill Heuberger. They must be finished and off the tarmac by 3 p.m. Tick tock tick tock. Will Fatima make it back in time to participate? Will Fatima get her travel papers? Will the audience give a rat’s ass? Lauren struggles to look excited while the pain killers are wearing off. Stacey Ann is from Miami and has never experienced the cold, bitter wind that blows across a NYC tarmac, or maybe it’s Newark. In any event, her eyes water to the point where they have her posing with tissues. Whitney was too dramatic and pageanty. Mr Jay says that Whitney is backsliding. Anya is thinking outside the box, whatever that means. Dominique-inique-inique is giving us “remedial posing 101”. Remedial. Not even just Posing 101. She sucks, in other words. And we are done. It is three and we see Fatima in a cab, trying to get back to the shoot.

The girls and Dominique-inique-inique finish up and go into the hangar, where they find the judges! OOOOOh. Drama llama. There will be an elimination. Right. Now. But where is Fatima? says Miss Tyra, ever astute and alert. We are one girl short. And in straggles a ratty-looking Fatima, who must take her place in her puffy anorak next to the models with hair and make up and wardrobe. Sigh. It is not good for Fatima. Fatima, she is worried. The audience is cued to worry by showing other seasons where, for one reason or another, a girl skipped a shoot and was sent. home. This is the season of surprises, so our surprise judge is Mr. Jay, and the surprise foreign destination is… a surprise! We aren’t going to tell you. Neener-neener.

Katarzya had a great 1960s shot. Lauren did something that resulted in Miss Jay or Tyra (I get them confused) saying that she was “living for the tippy toe on the extended leg.” She was also great at the party and she nailed a 1940s look in her shoot. Nigel says something vaguely pervy about bringing the party girl to the judging. Dominique-inique-inique nailed it for the first time. (Oh, shut UP. That dog nailed it for the first time before he was 15.) Stacey Ann was too fake at the party and oversold herself and she had a lousy shot at the plane, too. Whitney gets praise for her “natural” pose and then ragged on for the next five minutes for being too pageant and too fake at the party and just a big old fakey faker. Stop smiling, beeyotch. Anya is praised, on the other hand, for being herself and letting her weird speech thing hang out at the party and being so lovely that nobody cared that she can’t really speak English. Or anything else. She also stole the whole photo shoot today.

So. The judges deliberate thusly: Katarzya has legs for day, but they can’t remember her. Dominique-inique-inique is given high praise for NOT looking like a man in this shot. Lauren is loved by Mr. Jay and Paulina. Whitney gets the “stinky personality and too pageant” edit. Is she a Big Girl pageant girl? Wouldn’t that have been mentioned by someone by now if it were so? Stacey Ann is getting weaker. Fatima missed the shoot, so the judges will look at her portfolio to date. And Anya gets the Big Love of the week. Photos go to: Anya, Lauren, Dominique-inique-inique, Katarzyna and Whitney. Fatima and Stacey Ann stand side by side, waiting for the ax to fall on one of their dreams. Fatima disappointed everyone by not being prepared to go overseas. She didn’t participate in the shoot. Stacey Ann, on the other hand, had her papers and a lousy shot. She’s not getting any better, and she’s not getting on the plane. Buh-bye Stacey Ann. Maybe that WAS you I saw crossing Biscayne Boulevard the other day.

So everyone get on the plane! We’re going abroad! Oh, not you girls. You ride coach. The judges will take the private jet to ROME! And the helacious squealing commences once more. Next week? Fatima gets sick and Dominique-inique-inique proves that languages are not his strongest suite.

Oh, nertz. I left my notes at home. And I can’t remember anything except Claire finally got the axe. Lauren flailed around and managed to stay, but not before Paulina called her Frankenstein. The judges are getting particularly nasty about Dominique-inique-inique and Fatima. Whitney is a size 10, which in the model universe is fattyboombafatty.

So I give you this, instead of a recap:

I had been sure that Lauren reminded me of some vintage blonde starlet, but I just couldn’t remember which one. And then, in a moment of serendipty, she appeared in some random story or another on TMZ… a where are they now thing. AHA! Lauren was separated at birth from Martha Plimpton!

This week we open with confessionals. Fatima is shocked, SHOCKED to have found herself in the bottom two when she knows that she’s so good. Dominique-inique-inique proceeds to eat up two minutes of my life spouting off about himself in the third person: Dominique is this and Dominique is that and Dominique has visualized himself winning and becoming America’s Next Top Tranny. Whitney tells us that Dominique-inique-inique is mind-boggling delusional, and a stank ho who never shuts up. And your point?

Whitney wanders off to the kitchen and offers some banana bread to Stacy-Ann, who squeaks that she isn’t interested in becoming “fat” like Whitney. Whitney doesn’t slap the squeak out of her, despite Miz Shoes best hopes. That brings us to the first Tyra Scrolling Excuse for Mass Squealing of the evening. You know your ABCs, but what about the three Cs? Carbohydrates, class and comprehension? Nope. It’s Benny Ninja and Vendela (supermodel star of Scandinavian Next Top Model) in a big old warehouse to teach the girls (and Dominique-inique-inique) how to pose in the big three Cs: catalog, commercial and couture. Benny Ninja asks for someone to bring it to the center and Fatima leaps forth to be first. Whitney denies that she looks like Anna Nicole Smith when Benny and Vendela try to peg her thusly. Lauren gives nothing, Marvita is all over the place with nothing. Then the drag queen and the ice queen announce that Dominique-inique-inique is the shit. Oh, great. Like he needs to hear that to pump up his head any fatter. Dominique-inique-inique says that vogueing? Posing? Something or other is what Dominique-inique-inique is all about. Enough with the third person, Mr. Bignose.

We head back to the loft for this season’s telephone drama. Big Whitney has drawn up a little roster so that everyone can get a guaranteed shot at the phone booth. We see the list, and that each person has gone in at their designated time, for their designated 15 minutes and scratched off their names. Except for Dominique-inique-inique. He’s hanging in bed waiting to be called. Only nobody’s calling anyone, it’s each model for her or himself. Consequently Dominique-inique-inique misses his time to call his child. This becomes Whitney’s fault. Of course. Which leads to much screaming and name calling. Whitney moves her neck at Dominique-inique-inique which sends Dominique-inique-inique right off the end of the plank. He says that Whitney shows him no respect, and Whitney says that’s because you have given me no reason to respect you. He calls Whitney a racist, and then confessionalizes a definition of racism that you will never find in OED. Or even the Webster’s College Dictionary, condensed and abridged.

Either way, this makes Whitney’s head explode with rage. I am from the South, she says, and calling someone from the South racist is fighting words. Also? Her BFF is Black, so back the fuck off. She’s ready to tear Dominique-inique-inique’s fat head off his pencil neck, but alas, this does not come to pass. Instead, we have this stinging putdown from Dominique-inique-inique to Whitney: You look all of 30 and you act like you’re 12. Well, snap. And also, Mr. Pot? There is a Mrs. Kettle here to see you.

Another Tyra Scrolling Excuse for Mass Squealing tells the girls to bring it to the center, and the LimoCab takes them all to the 5 Points section of Brooklyn, where they meet Benny Ninja, Vendela and the House of Ninja Vogue troupe. Work it, sisters. Like Jaslene before him, Dominique-inique-inique is delighted to be home among his own. The girls (and Dominique-inique-inique) are split into two houses and forced to have a Vogue-off, with BennyNinja calling one of the Cs and the drag queens picking the winners. The winning team will be taken to the swag tent, and the best girl on the winning team will get an extra prize.

Dominique-inique-inique squares off against Claire, and the queens declare a tie. Marvita says that Dominique-inique-inique was good, but well, also a drag queen, so you’d expect that. Lauren beats Marvita, Stacy-Ann beats Anya, Whitney drops a full split and beats Fatima (unfortunately, not about the head and shoulders) and Fatima gets all up in Whitney’s personal space with her own personal space, if you know what I mean and I think you do. Of course, the ever-elegant Fatima has this to say about Whitney: “She’s the girl in high school you hate because she’s the cheerleader and she sleeps with everyone.” Nice. Finally Katarzyna beats Aimee. And the winning team is Claire (who gets the personal best and a trip to Bora Bora), Marvita, Stacy Ann, Whitney and Katarzyna. Marvita is seriously stoked by the swag tent. Whitney is petty about Claire getting the trip to Tahiti.

Back to the house for an evening of practicing (Fatima) and drinking malt liquor (Marvita and Lauren) in memory of Amess. Fatima gets her prissy holier than thou face on again and calls Marvita six kinds of ghetto. Well, Miss Thing, it isn’t like she’s pretending to be anything else, you know. She is honest about it. Over in Baltimore, Salacious D is all stoked to be watching the make up get produced in the Cover Girl factory. She even gets excited to see a bar code. I wish I was making that shit up, but alas, I am not. Marvita wanders through the loft, being happy with the nicest surroundings she’s ever lived in and doubting her ability to stay. In a moment of self-awareness, she ponders if she is perhaps, too ghetto.

Tyra Scrolling Excuse for Mass Squealing brings us to the week’s photo shoot. Portrait. Tight close up of face, covered in garish make up, pieces of theatrical gels and dripping paint. What? It’s totally plausible.  Marvita has shown up for the shoot in a pulled down wool hat, enormous sunglasses and a turtle neck sweater. The only thing visible is the tip of her nose. This bodes badly. Fatima disses Marvita within Marvita’s hearing, because what’s the fun of trashing someone’s self assurance if they can’t hear you?

Photographer for the day is Peter Buckingham. Lauren rocks the shot and bites on her peals. Stacy Ann is reminded to bring the neck. Whitney is encouraged to be herself and to quit trying to suck in her cheeks for a shot. Dominique-inique-inique was depressingly not sucky. Fatima struggled and over-analysed everything. Marvita, despite a serious, Gurl, you gotta suck it up and compete pep talk from Mr. Jay, fades off our screen. Still another in a long string of strong Black bitches who were reduced to ashes by the steam roller of high fashion and Mistress TyTy. Remember Tiffany? Ebony?

Finally and at last, we end up at Panel, where the guest judge is the sort of rude and icey Vendela. The first picture is of Dominique-inique-inique, and Nigel calls her intellectual, which puts him on Miz Shoes shit list for a week. Everyone is surprised to see her look so soft. Hey, Photoshop and Vaseline. Works like a charm. Anya gets the squint with your eyes open lesson. See? I’m doing it now. Katrazyna is praised for being able to squint with her eyes open. Fatima is shown with one arm up and over her head, and we are treated to a furry little arm pit. I guess with her background, tender places and razors are never seen together. Well, the furry pit just sends Miss Jay, and Paulina and Nigel and Tyra into major fits. Their mood of disbelief in Fatima’s stupidity is not helped by Fatima’s explanation that she thought it could be airbrushed out. Paulina tells her that a razor costs a dollar and retouching costs a thousand.

Lauren steps forward and apologizes for being in high-tops, but her size ten pumps seem to have gone missing. Miss Jay suspects the drag queens from the House of Ninja. Tyra claims to have stolen them herself. Whitney is bashed for not being serious enough, and Claire needs more neck. Marvita’s shot is heartbreakingly sad, and Vendela loathes it, but Paulina loves it. Aimee is complimented on her photos, but told to shape up and start looking like a model at panel.

As the judges deliberate, Anya can’t carry a shot with only her face and Katarzyna is fading away. Fatima is old enough to know to shave. Whitney is boring Paulina, but Nigel is still loving her. Vendela just sniffs and says that Whitney just doesn’t have it. Period. Marvita has given up on ANTM before ANTM gave up on her. Aimee is a chameleon, but not in a good way. Stacy Ann is continuing to grow and Paulina loves Lauren.

Photos are handed out to Stacy Ann, Dominique-inique-inique (NOES! Stop encouraging him!), Claire, Anya, Lauren, Aimee, Katarzyna, Fatima. Marvita and Whitney are both lectured for a lack of seriousness, and Marvita is sent home for giving up early.

Next week? Mistress TyTy teaches a class, and the house comes down on Dominique-inique-inique, with Claire flat out calling him shady. Or is that he’s sporting a five o’clock shadow?

Open on the LimoCab, where Dominique-inique-inique is gloating over the fact that (s)he wasn’t sent home because (s)he knows the other girls don’t like his her, but (s)he’s here for at least one more week. HA! and HA!, (s)he says. I never cease to be amazed at the size and potato-like shape of his

her nose. Back at the loft, Lauren gets a pep talk about receiving the first photo and Fatima makes sour faces at Amiss, whom she calls a joke.

Tyra Scrolling Lights elicit way too much squealing. “Turn up the heat or you’ll get hosed”. The hamsters speculate that this means they’ll be shooting at a fire station. Are the puzzles getting easier or the hamsters getting smarter? The LimoCab takes them to a fire house, where the bells ring and the firemen slide down the brass pole and the girls squeal. The firemen pile into the fire truck and it departs. The girls continue to squeal as Miss Jay comes down the pole. He tells them that they have just seen the famous quick change artistry of firemen. Well, actually, we didn’t. For all we know they were hanging around upstairs in full firemen regalia. But point taken. Today’s lesson will be quick changes and runway walks. Miss Jay tells the girls that they will have 90 seconds to change into rubber booties, black hot pants, white tee shirts and red suspenders (sort of Top Model Fireman costumes). This flips out Aimee, because she doesn’t like to get nekkid in front of people. Bad career choice, then sweetheart. The fire bell rings for 90 seconds and the girls shove themselves into their gear. Except for Fatima, who won’t put on the booties because she thinks they’re ugly—and they are—, the girls are all dressed when the bell stops.

Now, we walk. The firemen have come back to the station to be the audience. Katarzyna is first, and gives too much shoulder. Claire, Stacy Ann and Anya all pass muster, but Big Whitney looks like a drag queen. Dominique-inique-inique struts up and back, finishing with an invisible pole dance in front of the firemen. Classy. Miss Jay almost loses it with her. Miss Jay has, except for the sequined eyebrows at judging, toned it down a good deal this season, and I’m sort of liking him again. Girlfriend knows her shit, runway-wise is all I’m saying. Marvita and Aimee do well enough for guv-mint work, but Fatima has the Clydesdale, high-knee horse stomp. Cue footage of Camille and her signature stomp from Cycle, uh, 2? Lauren, despite having the height and the beauty and everything else, can’t walk for shit. Miss Jay sighs. Amiss, proving once more that there are more than several screws loose, hops and skips down the runway. Miss Jay wonders again why he’s signed on for another season.

Class over, we go back to the loft, where Aimee calls first shower. This leads to debate about the number of bathrooms and who needs to pee first in which one and why Aimee can’t get undressed in front of the other girls. To which Miz Shoes says, oh, get over yourself, honey. Unless you’re packing the she-nis or supernumerary nipples, there’s nothing there none of the other hamsters haven’t seen before. Well, except for Dominique-inique-inique and the she-nis. That might be a little redundant.

Big Whitney is over the drama and tells everyone to just let it go. She accuses the others of feeding on Fatima’s negative energy. That causes Fatima to claim that it’s really all Big Whitney stirring the shit. Dominique-inique-inique jumps on that and whispers that when she looks at Whitney, she sees, and I quote: “Southern, not cultured, white trash.” This from the girl? who dropped it like it was hot in front of the firemen and earned the sarcastic wrath of Miss Jay for doing so. Have I mentioned that Dominique-inique-inique has quite the large honker? Really, it’s like she’s always staring into a fish-eye lens, that one.

Tyra Scrolling Lights brings another round of ear-splitting squealing. “Keep your story straight or you will be out of order.” The LimoCab takes them to a converted church where they meet designer Brian Bradley (SQUEAL!) of the house of Tuleh (Miz Shoes squeals in wonderment. Miz Shoes would kill for anything Tuleh. Miz Shoes will wait while you look them up and see the price point on that particular line of fabulosity.) The hamsters however, have no clue who or what Tuleh is, and are just squealing to hear themselves squeal. We then meet Andrew Weir, the runway coordinator and Ann Shoket from 17 Magazine, and Jaslene, America’s Favorite Drag Queen winner of ANTM. She has improved her diction to the point where I can now understand half of what she says. This is a majah improvement. The winner of the runway challenge today will win a photo shoot with Jaslene for Lot 29. It will appear as an editorial in 17.



Dominique-inique-inique confessionalizes that he has to win because this has been his dream since he was way to young (and male) to be reading 17. The girls are given a whole 3 minutes to dress themselves and remember their place in the line up. Fatima admits that she sucks under pressure. Someone is shown getting dressed, but they are wearing a ratty, torn up bra… is that the classy Dominique-inique-inique? Stacy Ann leads and isn’t totally sucky. Big Whitney comes second, and manages to trot the catwalk with one boob hanging out. She opts not to correct it or look at it, hoping if she ignores it, the judges will too. Ah, false hope springs eternal. Lauren runs down and back. Fatima has buttoned her shirt wrong. She, too, believes that if she ignores it the judges won’t notice. She, too, is dead wrong and paces too fast. Claire works it and looks hott. Anya, not so hott. Amiss is, as usual, a mess, but she says that she felt GRRR-EAT!

Backstage, the girls are critiqued by everyone including Jaslene. You have got to be kidding me. This hot tranny mess is our new go-to girl? She asks Lauren if she really has the fire in the belly, the desire and the passion to be in the competition. Does she reawy, reawy want to be a model? Katarzya is declared the winner and she picks to share the prize Amiss and Marvita. They go off and shoot for Lot 29 while the losers go back to the loft.

Someone in the loft is voice overing how awesome it was to meet Jaslene, and how her critiques were so helpful and… And so help me G-d, they even say that Jaslene is really smart. There is not enough alcohol in the world to erase that from my memory. Lauren, however, is really stung over Jaslene’s critique of her, and is in tears that anyone would question her commitment to this competition.

My Life as a Cover Girl answers a huge question. Why the fuck do the girls throw out the first pitch for the Baltimore Orioles? Because CG is headquartered in Baltimore. There may or may not have been make up and Salacious D. Tyra Scrolling Lights causes the girls to launch into another round of squealing in an octave that makes my dogs howl. “Prove that you’ve got the chops for this competition or you’ll be sent packing.” Clearly, our destination is the meat packing district, where we are led into a giant meat locker hanging full of meat. Duh. In waltzes Mr. Jay in a white anorak with fur trim. This is going to be a highly provocative shot, he says. They will be wearing meat and posing with meat. They are also given truly awful hair and make up. Claire is grossed out by the meat, but not the make up.

Shooting today is Trevor O’Shea, who worked last season on the Modeling Wasteland shoot in the desert. Fatima is nervous and keeps making ugly faces. She can’t wrap her mind around the shoot at all. Big Whitney is wearing meat panties and a neck piece and she seems to keep making weird faces. Marvita grabs a thigh bone and works the anger. Wow. Lauren tries to channel Leatherface. She’s definitely been stung by the “you don’t want to be here enough” comments, because she’s bringing it. Dominique-inique-inique sits in a big vat of meat scraps and just loves the raw meat. Mr. Jay is sort of impressed with her commitment to the shot, but not as much as she’s impressed with herself. She asks for a hug when she’s done and he compliments her, and he practically leaps backward out of range, and says “oh, HELL no.” Aimee is completely grossed out, but not as much as Amiss, who threatens to puke.

Tyra Scrolling Lights/Infernal Squealing. Lauren confessionalizes that she’s afraid she’s going to be on the chopping block. Amiss is still sleeping while the other girls get ready to go to panel and eat their brekkies and what not. She is utterly disdainful of their rushing and primping. She points this up by not brushing out the rat weave, tying on a head band and wearing a jacket over her sleepy-time tee shirt. It occurs to me that Dominique-inique-inique looks a lot like Lisa who peed in the diaper, but with less talent, less class and a whole hell of a lot more nose.

Our guest judge today is Brian Bradley. Tyra, for reasons that will forever remain shrouded in mystery, sings the introductions. Stacy Ann has the five standard poses and is disappointing. Big Whitney looks fabulous, comedic yet sexy. Huh? Paulina comments that whoever came up with this week’s shot, it is a perfect metaphor for the modeling business: you are meat. Aimee was static, according to Nigel, and nervous according to Byran. Katarzyna was the challenge winner, and although she took risks by holding out her meat skirt like it was a dirndle, there is something missing. Fatima modeled from the waist down this week, as opposed to last week when she modeled from the waist up. Paulina asks if anyone gave her direction on the set, and then suggests that Fatima listen to and follow that direction and advice. Anya is told that this is the first shot in which she looks good. Claire is looking hot, but her shot, though good, is seen as stale 1990s heroin chic. I suddenly realize that Claire is Naima.V2.0, blonder, prettier and possibly not as vapid. Dominique-inique-inique (who has a very large nose) is told by Nigel that her shot looks like February in the Meatpacker’s calendar. HAH! I’m getting the feeling that he’s not feeling Dominique-inique-inique. Maybe it’s the stank and the honker. Lauren is crouched down with a meat hook(!) and looking HOTT! Amiss is taken to task for looking like a mess of ass at panel, and she says yeah, she looks like Axl Rose. She wishes she looked that good. She says it was her free jacket, so I think she might have been trying to redeem herself with Apple Bottom product placement. Marvita’s shot is seen as being beautiful, but empty, which may well be a metaphor for her head.

The first photo goes to Anya, followed in order by Big Whitney, Katarzyna (who’s told to try wearing her hair in a bun next week because she’s still a snooze in person), Claire, Dominique-inique-inique (most improved since last week, but still owner of the largest nose outside of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade Snoopy balloon), Stacy Ann, Lauren (told to practice the walk: if it wasn’t for that, she’d have been called first with the best picture), Marvita and Aimee. The bottom two are Fatima and Amiss. Last week Fatima was the second coming of Iman. This week? She’s blowing chunks. Amiss seems to lack focus. Does she want to be here or not? Well, it doesn’t matter what she wants, because Amiss is a mess and is disappeared from the final photo, where we see for the first time exactly how hideous Anya’s fade-away shot is.

Next week? The return of Benny Ninja and Dominique-inique-inique and Big Whitney get in a fight. Come on Whitney, that nose would be hard to miss if you took a white trash swipe at it.

MAKEOVERS!!!!

This is the first show of the season where I have actually seen the new intro, and I have to admit, Trya in Disco/Cabaret drag with the whip? Scary. Those bitches better listen when Mistress TyTy talks. Yeesh.

Open on the loft and various confessionalizings, notably, Dominique-inique-inique, who is very, very clear on the concept that she is totally high-fashion glamorous, dammit. And a diva. A high-fashion diva. And very, very clearly delusional. I want what she’s smokin’ and I want the mirror that’s lying to her about being the fairest of them all.

The doorbell rings and there is infernal squealing inside the loft. Outside the loft are a slew of giant, white, quilted handbags full of Applebottom swag. The hamsters are delighted with free stuff and all but on their new jeans, making sure to fulfill the contractual obligations of ANTM by showing off the logos and explaining why the jeans are called apple bottoms by bending over and sticking their asses out at the cameras. Cha-ching! Lauren can’t figure out how to put on the spike-heeled pumps. Allison and Fatima (of course) get into it with each other over the size of their asses. Fatima tells Allison that Allison’s is bigger, and that launches Allison into a frenzy of tape measuring, self-loathing, finger-sticking and revelations of prior eating disorders. She is particularly peeved at Fatima over triggering her body image issues. Because it is a given that if you are a working model, you will have bulimia or anorexia or some other eating disorder, and Allison knows that, because she’s a working model, with extensive experience in the Far East. And Fatima should be sensitive to people’s issues. Can’t argue with that, but Fatima is only sensitive to Fatima’s issues, or haven’t you been paying attention?

The LimoCab comes and takes the hamsters to the next challenge/shoot. Somewhere in New York City or the nearby environs is a huge Wal-Mart. Miz Shoes cries for her beloved New York City. It is at this Wal-Mart that the girls (and Dominique-inique-inique) will face their next test: the Cover Girl make-up challenge. It’s the usual: elbow each other out of the way at the make up wall, create a fresh, clean look using Cover Girl products A, B and C. There is a single make-up mirror, so sharpen the elbows again for that. You have 5 minutes from GO.

Brent Poer and Molly Someoneorother from Cover Girl judge the results: Fatima has flattened her color, Lauren should use blush. Allison was great, but heavy handed (i.e.: used a trowel for applying). Claire of the bi-polar hair is the winner.

Back in the dorms, Dominique-inique-inique and Claire discuss being single mothers and how they are doing this show to make their children’s lives better. By not being with them for 14 weeks? By showing them how to gamble on their futures rather than planning and working for them? Sort of like buying lottery tickets rather than putting money into savings, or getting a college education? Dominique-inique-inique says that she’s had to be both mother and father to her kid. Miz Shoes suspects that has been perilously easy, what with the shenis and all. Then Dominique-inique-inique goes on at great length about being a role model and domestic violence and blahblahblah. Heard it for the past 9 seasons. Try a new one.



Over in the big bed, Allison is playing with Barbies. She stuffs tissue in the seat of her Black Barbies pants to approximate Fatima’s junk in the trunk. There is much racist stereotyping and trash talking and Miz Shoes refuses to legitimize it by rehashing it here. Let’s just say that Allison is still holding a grudge against Fatima’s insensitivity to her body image issues. Why are there Barbies there? Where did the Barbies come from? Did Allison bring them with her? Are they tools used in the confessional, like the dolls psychologists use to help children talk about sex abuse?  If they belong to Allison, do we think that her attachment to these unrealistic figures is the root of her body image issues? Yeah. I digress.

Tyra scrolling lights! SQUEALING!!! STFU!!!!!! Do you ever want to just curl up and dye? Yes. Now in particular, what with the squealing that never ends. Oh. This must mean makeovers. Sally Ann squeaks to a giant portrait of Tyra, begging not to have her head shaved. Nothing good will come of that, watch my words. The girls and Dominique-inique-inique are hauled away in the LimoCab to the Stephen Knoll salon. He is Cindy Crawford’s hair guy…Cindy Crawford who just had a commercial for her line of furniture at Sears. My brain hurts. In an attempt to make this season mo’ real, Tyra tells the girls that their makeovers are going to be surprises, because in the real world, there isn’t a supermodel telling you that you’ll get blonde extensions and you’ll get a mohawk. Get in the chair and wait for the magic to happen. I ain’t telling you bitches shit. I think I see the riding crop.

Anya of the weird speech impediment gets white blonde, straight hair. Big Whitney gets a big weave. She can make it in country music if this doesn’t pan out for her. Aimee gets a dark red shaggy cut with bangs. Marvita gets something that Tyra calls a Horse Mane Weave, and it is Tyra’s own creation. What it is is a long weave where Marvita’s hair was already in a fro-hawk, and short on the sides where she already had short hair. Meh. It actually kind of works, though it pains me to say that. Lauren is femmed up with a long blonde weave with some reddish highlights and curl. Miss Jay gets all the extras sewn in at random. Katarzyna gets her hair darkened. Claire goes white blonde and mostly shaved. She’s stoked. Fatima looses the icky mercurochrome shit she’s been sporting in favor of a butt-touching chestnut brown weave. The pain and agony and torture of the process leaves her weeping and crying and carrying on for the rest of the day. Allison gets a lighter weave. What is with all the freaking weaves? Dominique-inique-inique gets her hair bobbed, and she declares herself fierce and high-fashion. Good lord that woman has a huge honker. Stacy-Ann wants Naomi Campbell (sorry, Minnie Mouse, that’s going to Fatima) but gets a short-short-short spike. Amiss gets long streaks, and proceeds to speak about herself in the third person: Amiss could become a sex monster. Weelll, half right is better than nothing.

In their after shots, wrapped in the white bandages that signify plastic surgery, we see that there is some seriously bad skin on these faces. Good lord. Maybe Noxema should consider a sponsorship for next cycle.

We are taken back to the loft, and subjected to more squealing as the Scrolling Tyra Lights announce that having worked the make up and worked the hair, they will now have to work “the body”. “The Body” is in quotes, which anyone who has ever paid any attention to models knows is Elle McPherson’s nickname. Sure enough, they are taken to a boat in the river where they will shoot lingerie with the Brooklyn Bridge as their backdrop. Special photographer is George Holz, who shot Cycle Two’s underwater high concept shot.

Big Whitney is dressed from chap to nave in corseting and a long skirt, and can barely move to pose. Katarzyna is doing cheesecake poses. Lauren is conflicted and has a hard time with the high heels. Allison is practicing in the mirror right up until she’s called to set and promptly earns the wrath of Mr. Jay for being too pose-y. He hates on her and she claims that he doesn’t know shit, because she totally nailed the shoot. Amiss can’t take, or can’t understand direction and flounders around on the set, whereas Aimee gets praise. Dominique-inique-inique just keeps yapping and yapping and yapping about how she is fierce and high fashion and the shit and Mr. Jay don’t know from shit, calling her catalog and commercial. Cut to Mr. Jay saying that he feels bad for her, because she came out and tried her hardest and had NOTHING.

Allison confessionalizes that she nailed the shot, that she totally kicked ass and that she is NOT. GOING. HOME. Want to lay money on that, sweetie? After 9 seasons, I can confidently say that you will. Oh, hubris! Oh, irony! Oh, why don’t we have script writers, again?

Panel, where we see the (smarter) girls rocking the Applebottom swag. The guest judge is George Holz. Miss Jay is wearing sequins on his eyebrows. I do not know why. The girls are called out thusly:

Amiss, you’re a mess. Your body needs work. Lauren, you need to stand up straight. Put out your hip. Point out your toes. Stand up straight. Marvita, you looked amazing. (And amazingly, she did. Her position in front of the bridge? The cropping? Amazing.) Claire had a weird shot. Fatima looks like Iman, for real, not just a Tyra hallucination. Unfortunately, she only looks like Iman from the waist up. From the waist down, she’s stiff and can’t move her body. Oh, lord, that isn’t going to be bringing up the female circumcision shit again is it? Is she going to use that as an excuse for lower body immobility? Eeeww. Katarzyna looks like a mail-order bride. That was so last cycle people. That was Natasha. Even George acknowledges that he was shooting from the groin and not the brain. Stacy Ann has Paulina’s jawline and no neck. Extend, extend. Dominique-inique-inique looks like the Sunday paper insert for the local big-box clothing store sale. They cruelly focus on her cottage cheese thigh action and both Tyra and Paulina explain how you gotta shove that shit under and back so it doesn’t show up on film. Aimee is too stiff. Allison is told that her make over looks great and she says that she knows it does. The judges don’t like that. Especially Nigel, and they try a second time to get her to say “thank you”. The second time’s a failure, too. George says that during the shoot the lights were on, but nobody was home. And finally, Big Whitney gets a pass because the stylist sucked.

Dominique-inique-inique gets some savage critiquing by the panel. Holz says that he thought she was someone’s mother on the set, until she came out in her lingerie. Paulina calls her finished. They all loathe Allison and comment on her being conceited. Anya’s new hair is much loved, but it only makes what they call her accent and I call her speech impediment more apparent. Katarzyna is slammed again for the mail order bride, cheesecake pose. Finally, the girls are called back in.

First photo goes to Lauren, who’s so wrong it’s right. Awkward and gangly. Marvita, for some bogus and random reason, gets the second photo and the rest go down in order. Aimee, Claire, Stacy Ann, Fatima, Anya, Big Whitney, Katrazyna, Amiss. If you were keeping track, that leaves Dominique-inique-inique and Allison in the bottom two. Who goes home? The busted, antique, DragWreck that is Dominique-inique-inique or the snotty, know it all, ungrateful, “I’m not going home tonight” Allison? If you said Allison, you’ve been watching this show as long as I have.

Next week? Bitch fights!

Back wit da bitches and da hos

Although ANTM managed to sneak back on teevee without sending me the memo, they only were on for a week before I found them. All we missed was the crazy that was too crazy for the legal department, and so we’re off to see Miss Tyra and the new batch of mildy retarded, delusional hamsters that warm the cockles of my hard little heart. Yes, gentle readers, America’s Next Top Model is back on the air for Cycle 10, and Miz Shoes is on the couch, martini in one hand, pen in the other to bring you the best (except for Potes) in snarky recapping. Take a swig, and let’s begin.

We see Marvita, she of the frohawk and bad attitude. She’s this year’s returning wannabe, and though she’s no Tiffany, she has her issues and they are many: she was abandoned by her crackhead momma, tossed around many foster homes, abused and raped and left homeless by the system by the age of 18. But she’s been in therapy every Tuesday for a year, and she’s feeling much better now.

We meet Kim, who is dumber than dirt and talks funny. We meet Amis, who used to be Amy, but there was another hamster named Amy and Miss Tyra said that one of them had to change her name, so she volunteered. Why change it to Amis? Because it’s a name from the bible. Miz Shoes isn’t one of those reader/rereader/daily dipper bible nuts, but she does know this: in the bible, they spell it Ay-Em-OOOH-Ess. Amis with an I is Kingsley Amis, the author. I’m just sayin’.

Fatima gets her moment in the rehash spotlight and shares with horrified viewers everywhere her personal tale of female circumcision (aka: genital mutilation) and Miz Shoes downs the first martini in one gulp. Mah Lord, do not make us hear about this every week for 12 weeks, please. Somehow I doubt that my prayer will be answered. On the contrary, last cycle was the Green cycle, and Tyra has told us this is going to be the Important Issues Cycle, and I fear we have not heard the last of genital mutilation. It’s going to be a looooooong twelve weeks.

Fatima is out of the gate and in the early lead (by a nose over Marvita) for the title of House Bitch. After yanking everyone’s chains, she coolly observes to no one in particular that she didn’t know she could make people feel upset. “How interesting.” Oh, how foreshadowing, more like. I don’t know what happened next, but my notes (and we are only five minutes in) say: “Christ on a cracker, do these hamsters ever STOP squealing?” And sadly, the answer is no. They do not. Tyra scrolling text message? SQUEEEEEEEEE! The two Jays? SQUEEEEEEE!!!! A photo shoot? SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! A fashion show in Times Square? SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! For Badgley Mischka? Crickets. Oh, well. Hey, look! Badgley has the same silver hair-don’t as Mr. Jay!

Lauren self-identifies as “The Girl Who Has Never Worn High Heels Before Being Cast on ANTM.” Where do they find them? And off they go down the runway. Marvita hikes out first, looking down at her feet and racing to the end and back. Kim can’t walk and proceeds to voice over that she was wearing a pair of $700 mini-shorts and she finds it stupid to pay that much for clothes and she doesn’t get it. Ruh-roh, not a good sign.

Lauren causes me to go ACK and Miss Jay to make a face. Amis tries to be cute and aw shucks by asking what she’s doing on a runway, when golly, she’s just a ragamuffin. She uses the word “ragamuffin.” I hate her already. Backstage, Marvita and Fatima are gunning for a bitch fight with each other. Neither one is backing down, and I’m not sure which one is going to pull the first shiv. It could go either way.

Back to the loft, where there is a Tyra Scrolling Message and there is more inane squealing. There is a visit to Elite Model Management to meet Neal Hamil, so the sponsor can get the first look and decide who’s going to win. We have our first look at Paulina Porizkova, former top supermodel, ex-Dancing With the Stars hoofer, critically acclaimed actress in movies nobody ever saw, novelist, renowned knitter and wife of Ric Ocasek (one of the homeliest men in rock and roll, second only to, or maybe beating out Todd Rundgren—who, coincidentally, replaced Ric when The Cars reformed a couple of years ago…). Can you say overachiever? Just typing that list makes me want a nap. Paulina, however, is ready for anything and wastes no time telling each of the hamsters exactly why they will suck: you have bad skin; you look like a drag queen/scrub your face; too High School Musical (this to Kim the Dim) if you have a dark side, bring it (and demonstrates pulling something out of her… well, I’m not sure where it was coming from, but it required sticking her entire arm down her throat.); you are too shmooshy-faced.

And off the models go, to their first “real” shoot, which has something to do about homeless people. Except, real homeless people will be posing with the girls, wearing the high fashion stuff and the girls will be dressed like street people. Salacious D has a “My Life” (still no longer My Life as a Cover Girl, it must be one of those truth in advertising things) commercial and explains that now that she is a new cover girl, she needs a new hairstyle. No, you needed a new hairstyle because that rat weave Tyra & Co. gave you was heinous.

First up on the set is Fatima, who gets all weepy because in addition to her female circumcision, she was also afflicted with homelessness as a child. She goes backstage and starts up with Marvita again, just to blow off the sadness. Marvita gives as good as she gets, and then, Ohmygod! they discover that they have so much in common: homelessness, abuse, stank attitude, anger management issues, and they immediately become BFF. Whew. I thought for sure someone was gonna have to cut a bitch.

The rest of the girls go down thusly: Dominique, surprisingly hot; Claire, sorta good; Amis, amiss; Kim, dumber than dirt; Marvita, dull. Kim then interviews that she wants to model, but not high fashion clothes because she doesn’t “want to support that”. That being the fashion industry and spending good money on clothing. Miz Shoes pounds the second martini and ponders the notion that there is someone in the world who aspires to be a clothing model for Sears or K-Mart.

More squealing as the scrolling message light announces the first judging. Miz Shoes is not feeling the scrolling message lights. We enter the judging room and see that Nigel is as hot (and hopefully as pervy) as ever. Miss Jay has on one of Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation reject jackets, upon which he has velcroed each of the hamster’s names. He will be ripping one name off each week. I suppose that this is better than the ever-expanding afro, or the clown collar, but not by much. The final judge is Paulina Porizkova. Oh boy! La Dickenson has a worthy successor, finally. No more Missus Nice Guy Twiggy in her tatty little cardigan.

Lauren “Lawsy, Miss Tyra, I don’t know nuffin bout walkin in no high heels” gets the first critique and it goes like this. Paulina loves her. Nigel says she looks, in person, way too nervous. Paulina jumps down Nigel’s throat and tells him that Lauren has a right to be nervous, at least for a couple of weeks. Nigel gets his snark on and tells her that she’s entitled to her opinion, NEW judge. And Paulina doesn’t miss a beat and calls him OLD judge. And we all know she wasn’t talking about the number of cycles that he’s been doing this. Miss Jay and Tyra are gleeful at the fireworks. Ratings! We see ratings! Oh, yeah, there are still 13 girls to torment, so let’s continue, shall we?

Anya is put on notice that because she’s pretty and doesn’t suck, she’ll be getting the harsh judging. Amiss is inexperienced and looked like an inexperienced model looking into the light. Paulina yawns. Aimee looked not homeless but incredible. Fatima took the shoot to the extreme and everyone loves it/her. Then Tyra throw cold water on her by saying that yeah, everyone loves this shot, but it was the only one of your pix that didn’t just totally suck. Next, Dominique-a-nique-a-nique is dragalicious. Allison was lost and had no presence and Mr. Jay didn’t have one good thing to say about her work on set. Nice. Whitney is our token large girl and Paulina and Tyra go all ga-ga over the fact that she’s got the “personal, invisible wind machine”. Marvita brings the glamor to the shot, but Miss Jay yells at her to stand up straight and look people in the eye, dammitBeavis. This season’s token Soviet Sweetheart gets high marks, Claire is striking but has bad hands. Atalya is pretty, but not telling the story. The homeless people out shine her. Stacey Ann has a Minnie Mouse voice and only five poses. Kim walks forward in a horrible outfit that includes a giant headband and the judges tell her to take off the headband before they’ll even talk to her. Miss Jay pulls out a stinky, crumpled tissue and tells her that’s what she looked like in the fashion show and then Kim tells the judges that she doesn’t believe in fashion. She doesn’t find it interesting at all. She would, in fact, like to go home now, because one week in she’s decided this sort of sucks. She gets her wish and Tyra (who has heard this so often now, she doesn’t yell or call her a loser or anything) rips her photo in half, but not before telling the room that Kim had one of the best shots. Sting. And yeah, we had 14 girls so we still get to eliminate another one of you tonight.

Anya; Allyson is a Gossip Girl wannabe, Upper East Sider; Marvita; Amiss is nothing out of the ordinary; Aimee; Lauren; Atalya is pretty and pretty dull; StaceyAnn; Katarzina wears too much makeup; Claire is loved, Whitney; Dominique-a-nique-a-nique is a tragic tranny (well, you have to have one); Fatima only had the one good shot, but it was the best shot. So…

First pic goes to Anya, then Claire, who tells Tyra that her dress is “SICK!”; Whitney, Lauren, Aimee, Fatima, Marvita, Katrazina, StaceyAnn, Dominique-a-nique-a-nique, Allison and in the bottom two are Atalya, pretty but dull and Amiss, who is interesting in person, but can’t take a good picture to save herself. At least yet. Amiss stays, and Atalya takes the bus back to Brooklyn.

Next week: Make overs!! Who will get their head shaved? Who will get the rat weave? Who will get the inappropriate hair color? Who will cry for no reason? My favorite.

HEY! How did ANTM get back on the air and me not know? Thankfully, I only missed the pre-show episode where the girls are winnowed and we see the mini model boot camp. But still? How did I miss the return of the Genius and Gift that is Miss Tyra?

I’d better put the martini shaker on ice tonight for Wednesday night.

This is my second attempt at this recap, the first having been swallowed by the fucking aether. At least I thought of a better title this time. Allow me to first apologize for a lack of recap last week, but between the chest cold from hell and the massive doses of Theraflu (which shit rocks, by the way, and I can’t recommend it highly enough) to combat said chest cold, my notes are less than coherent. I think I can read this, though: who the hell dresses Jillian? Half the time she looks like Rosie the Riveter/Sassy Car Hop and the other half she’s wearing Mork’s suspenders. WTF? Elisa the gently bewildered finally got sent home, but before she did we were treated to the tale of her broken skull which may or may not go a long way toward explaining that whole airy-fairy thing she had going on. What it didn’t explain, and what I found unsettling, was why she felt the need to throw her mannequin on the floor and straddle it to sew. Every time. And though it pains me to say this, Christian was right about the silver sleevettes on that thing looking like those little inflatable thingies that you stick on very little children to keep them afloat when they are first learning to swim. Michael Kors was correct as well when he said that thy looked like shower caps. They looked like crap, and there’s no getting around that. So, on to this week.

Open: Interior Morning: The Boys’ Dorm

Christian is blow drying his hair with the exact technique and attention to detail one would expect. But what is this? Rami of the Heavenly Arms, dressed only in a towel? Swoon. Miz Shoes thanks the editors for that one. And over in the girls’ room, Victorya is bemoaning the loss of Elisa and telling us that the girls have been consolidated into one room. And with that, we are out the door and over to Parsons for the next challenge. Heidi tells the designers that they will be designing something for one of the most important days in a woman’s life. The dress she wears when the divorce from the first husband is final? The models come out, and we see a gaggle of school girls in school uniforms. This is a gaggle of Jersey girls, and they have each chosen a designer with whom they wish to work. In Heidi’s world, one of the most important days of a woman’s life is her senior prom. Of course it would be. She was probably the prom queen of Friedrich Nietzsche High.

Christian, predictably, is not thrilled with the idea of working with little girls, or of making a prom dress. He says “the other designers are all excited. But I think proms are tacky, horrible and gross.” Not that I particularly disagree with him, but (and it takes one to know one) those are the words of the high school social out cast. Scarred for life and still bitter. In what is a perfectly delightful bit of schadenfreude, the shortest, plumpest, and least attractive of the girls choses Christian. She is his doppleganger: abrasive, opinionated, rude and socially inept. The designers and teens will have half an hour together to discuss looks, then the designers will hie themselves to Mood with $250 dollars. The actual workroom time will be until midnight of this day, and all of the next. Tim reminds the designers that, as teenaged girls, they will have very strong opinions, and it is up to the designer to both rein it in and make it their own vision.

I Want It All

Sweet Pea’s girl wants a super low cut front and back, accentuating her booty. And she wants white. I have a horrible vison of J-Lo’s most memorable fashion don’t, that turquoise thing that was split in the front to her pubes, and held on with double-stick tape. In white. Christian’s girl, Maddy, immediately grabs the pencil out of his hand and begins to sketch. She coyly tells him that she, too, is a designer. He dies a little. She wants it all: brown, black and gold and lace and beading and flounces and more lace and down to here and up to there and satin. Kevin, who is straight, is also, it turns out, from Jersey, and we see his prom photo. It is very, very, Vinny Barbarino. I say that with all due respect. He tells us that being from Jersey, he remembers what goes on at those Catholic school proms, and assures his girl’s mother that he will be sewing a chastity belt into the garment. Nice. And? Jersey.

It is a quick flash of Mood, and then we are back in the work room, where Christian is telling us that he was the best dressed person at his prom. Chris, from off-camera, asks if that was his opinion, or did they take a vote. Christian says they voted, and then we see his prom picture. He was in a group, HAH! OUT CAST! And it looks like they took the photo last week, because he has the same hair and the same look of insufferable superiority that he’s wearing when the camera returns to him in the present.

Jillian is working with Tiffany blue something or other, and other aquas and pastel teals and saying that she wants to make a jewel box of a dress. Well, she has the Tiffany blue…Ricky reminisces about growing up poor with a mother who was a seamstress (did she sew his new blue jeans?) and, predictably, weeps. And wears one of his stupid little twee hats. Oh, little emo boy, don’t cry any more, or Miz Shoes will be forced to reach through the television screen and bitchslap both the tears and the stupid little twee hat right off your face. God. Get a fucking grip already, girl. Sweet Pea, on the other hand, is totally butching up and says that she is not going home because she listened to some 17-year old girl. Way to go, Pea. Miz Shoes has hopes that we will finally get to see the Bad Pea. Not butching up at all is Christian, who is just in tears over how tacky is the dress he is being asked to make. I can’t let a 17-year old over power me, he cries. Get real, sweetheart, my dog, JoJo of Very Little Brain could over power you. A powder puff could over power you. I’m amazed you don’t blow away every time you turn on your hairdryer. Jeez.

Commercials

We are treated to the worst commercial in Levi’s history, you know, the one where there is some random guy pulling his pants on in a barren loft, and when he tugs, the city comes up through the floor, and he sees a hottie in a phone booth, so he thinks about it and then yanks the pants up and then he and the hottie walk away? Yeah. That one. But this being Project Runway, the hottie in this version is another guy.OOOOH, gay commercials. So daring. So ho-hum. Then, to add insult to injury, we have to see the Neck of All Evil, Jeffrey-the-Pinheaded-Shmoo take us to the hottest clothing store in El Lay, which is actually the back room of some sneaker emporium. But he tells us that it’s just super secret and super cool. And it seems to have all of his super crap from his runway show. Oh, ho ho, Jeffrey-the-Pinheaded-Shmoo was making jokes. I think. Or the only place he can sell his crap is in the secret back room of a sneaker emporium. What evs.

Day Two: Mothers and Daughters and Tim

Victorya is not happy with her dress, she thinks that her girl has asked for a dress that is evocative of an Italian divorcee. How many times do we have to say this? Jersey girls. Anyway, Victorya isn’t having any of that, so she changes her silhouette to something a little more modern and youthful. And cobalt blue. Tim comes in and tells the designers that they are getting half an hour with their models for fittings and reality checks. And they brought their mothers. Kevin’s model’s mother is awfully skeptical about the baby doll dress he’s made: she thinks that it makes her daughter look pregnant. Victorya’s girl though, despite not getting what she wanted, thinks that it is exactly what she wanted. Chris is working with what looks to me like a pistachio green silk charmeuse, and it is wonderful and sleek, but still exciting and different. Chris’s girl and her mom are both in love with Chris’ portfolio of giant drag queen costumes. It’s really sweet, and they are totally shocked to learn that it is Chris in every one of the pictures. Are they blind? In any event, both mother and daughter love Chris and love the dress. And so do I. Sweet Pea didn’t cut as low as her girl wanted, and used what also looks like a champagne-colored satin charmeuse to do a beautiful halter dress that is cut very flat across the front, and beautifully full and draped in the back. Again, girl and mother are nuts for it.

In another moment of secret evil pleasure for me and everyone else in America, Christian’s model is not so happy. And the dress does not fit at all. Christian must not have been able to believe his tape measure, because there is a good 10-inch gap in the back of the dress, where it will never close. Maddy is very unhappy that Christian didn’t do all she wanted, until someone else compliments her at which point she allows as how she designed the dress her own self. Christian dies a little more, and Miz Shoes enjoys another shot of schadenfreude.

Over at the sewing machines, Sweet Pea is grimly determined to do well, since she was in the bottom two the prior week. Chris lets loose one of his enormous laughs and says HA! for the bottom two, Honey, I’ve been voted off. Much hilarity ensues. Miz Shoes thinks it might be getting late. Tim now arrives to give the designs a once over and impart those pearls of Tim Wisdom that we all live for. He is concerned with Kevin’s dress, and especially the hem. Kevin does not want to hem the bottom, despite Tim telling him that an unfinished hem is certain death on the runway. Tim is also concerned for Rami of the Heavenly Arms, who has done one of his signature toga thingies with a really dark and somewhat drab olive green. Tim thinks that the young girl will look like she’s wearing her mother’s dress. Rami pays no attention to Tim and says that look at what 18 year olds look like in El Lay. Miz Shoes (and Tim) say oh, please let’s not. Tim is concerned for the amount of work that Victorya still has to do on her dress, because she has a ton of giant chunky crystals that still need to be applied. Tim tells her to work. And then he gets to Christian, who is not feeling fierce. He is, says Tim, all gloom and doom. Christian doesn’t even want to try to fix his dress, he’s ready to go home, defeated by an obnoxious little girl. Tim gives him a splendid pep talk, which ends thusly: “Rally.” My god, that man is good. Rally, said in a sort of up-beat deadpan may replace my current favorite phrase: sack up, ho.

Interior: Night: Boys’ Dorm

Chris, exhibiting a touch of the old schadenfreude himself, opines that Christian might just be losing it. Christian then comes out in an enormous orange towel turban and tells everyone else that they’ll miss him when he’s gone. And there is some truth to that. And then it’s morning, and Christian is shaving. Really? He shaves? Rami tells us that he is from Jerusalem, and there is no prom there. I feel like there should be some sort of joke there, like… in Soviet Union, prom… I don’t know. Fill it in your selves.

Back at Parsons, Ricky is telling us that he made his girlfriend’s prom dress and that should have been a clue. I don’t know. Did he wear a stupid little twee hat and weep copiously while he sewed it? Sweet Pea is entertaining the girls by showing off her various tattoos and piercings, and telling them that she was a Catholic schoolgirl once herself, and that she is their future. This makes one of them happy and the other two a little scared. Or scarred. Then we see Pea in her prom photo with a California blonde surfer dude, and Pea fans herself and blushes as she says that she remembers her prom, but will not elaborate further. Kevin has not hemmed his dress and Christian and Maddy are still arguing as he sews the last bits in place and she rolls her eyes and trash talks him.

Finally we are at the runway with the usual suspects and guest judge Gilles Mendell. Sweet Pea’s dress is first and it is really beautiful. It is sewn well and fits like a glove. Her girl is just loving it. Victorya has made a cobalt blue bubble dress with some interest at the neck, where the crystals are centered. Chris’ green charmeuse is another beauty, with a complicated back that has v-straps and a cape-y/train-y thing happening. His girl walks like a moose, but rocking it. Kevin’s short halter is meh. Jillian’s dress does look like a jewel box, but shockingly, her bodice fits terribly. Christian’s dress is hot mess in many flavors. It doesn’t fit, it’s shorter in the back than in the front, and it makes his stumpy lumpy girl look stumpier and lumpier. Rami’s olive dress is clearly too grown up, and the length is awful: neither short nor long, but hits just below the knee.

And Our Loser Is…

Kit, Jillian and Chris are sent off the runway because their scores kept them safe. The best and worst are Kevin, Sweet Pea, Christian, Ricky, Victorya and Rami of the Heavenly Arms. Sweet Pea is asked about her direction from her girl, and she says that she wanted Hollywood glamor, and a sort of Grecian drape. The girl says that it was exactly what she wanted and she loveloveloves it. Michael says it was flattering and well done, but NinaGarcia thinks it might have been a little too sophisticated for 17. Kevin’s dress is shredded. The color is awful against her skin. The dress is matronly and not young. And of course, Michael Kors zeroes in on the unfinished hem and says it looks messy and cheap. And he has a point. Victorya’s dress gets raves from all. Michael says it’s chic and young, NinaGarcia loves the fun color and that it is modern and appropriate. Christian immediately whines that he had the hardest job because his girl was a demanding diva. Gilles and NinaGarcia are having none of that and shut him up fast and dress him down for blaming his model. Ricky’s dress is seen as cute (and I don’t know why, because all of his stuff has those stupid bubble hems) but he gets called out for poor execution. Heidi hates the color, saying it washes out his model (it does) and MK says that Ricky needed to turn the volume up on all of it: the color, the draping.

Rami pleads that his girl wanted something comfortable and different. Gilles says, yeah, maybe but it ain’t a prom dress. Nina says it’s too sophisticated for a teenager, and points that the length is all wrong (told you so). And Michael Kors says it looks like a 35-year old woman going out to dinner dress.

The judges have nothing but love for Sweet Pea and Victorya. Rami, they say, was designing for Rami. Christian blamed his client, and that sat very badly with the judges. Ricky was seen as yet another non-event. Close but no cigar, again, says Michael Kors. But it is Kevin who gets the worst analysis: NinaGarcia says that he showed poor taste. Victorya wins with a modern, age-appropriate mini, and Sweet Pea, Ricky and Rami get to stay. It is Kevin and Christian in the bottom two. Christian, despite his unforgivable sin of blaming his model for his own failure and his poor execution, is still good TV. He stays. Kevin, with his head to toe cheap and poorly constructed, goes. Still, he says, it wasn’t all that bad: he got a hug from Heidi Klum. I guess he really was straight.

Next week? Ricky cries.

The night we’ve all been waiting for is finally here: the night that we find out who will be America’s Next Top Model and mumble her way through an agonizing year of Cover Girl commercials. We open on a Tyra voice over recap… will it be Jenah, the tomboy with a bad attitude (and honestly, compared to the stank hos of this and other seasons, I still am not seeing what is so awful about her attitude. She didn’t bitch about the rat weave, she didn’t wipe dirty underwear on anyone, she didn’t torture Heather, she wasn’t an obvious pig in the house, she quit smoking when they told her to, she didn’t roll her eyes at judging, she took direction and gave great photos, so where’s the bad attitude? More like bad editing, if you ask me.  Will it be Salacious D, who has been cast as the commercial girl, even though she is clearly Tyra’s pet and the Cover Girl sponsor’s pet and the photographers’ pet? Or will it be Chantallobotomy who is so unmemorable that I can’t even remember what they said about her, but who has confessionalized at least once an episode that she was destined to be a model, that it has been her life-long ambition to be a model and that it is God’s will that she be a model.

Whatever. TYRA MAIL! Yeah, yeah, yeah, tomorrow’s the big day. Salacious D says that she’s come so far, Jenah says that going home is not an option and Chantallobotomy with the astuteness and clarity of thought that she has come to embody says that somebody will be going home. For now though, they are going to the Cover Girl shoot where they meet Brent Poer (the Cover Girl rep) and their lip gloss du jour. They also meet someone who is familiar with being a Cover Girl. That would be last year’s winner, Jaslene, so maybe he’s just familiar with being a Cover Tranny. In any event, any words of wisdom she imparts are unintelligible, so what’s the point?

First up for filming is Chantallobotomy, who says that she isn’t 100% ready. Mr. Jay tells her that her delivery is like: “I’m reading lines and I’m a dumb model.” Well, do I say thank you for the honesty or get all sarcastic about the obviousness of the observation? She is going to embody the essence of a color. She loves delicious fruity lip gloss. Uh huh. Next is Jenah who steps into the frame and promptly goes blank. We hear the crickets. After eleven takes, Mr. Jay calls for the cue cards. But Jenah says no to that, that she isn’t going to be that girl. So on the next take, she nails her lines. She is doomed, I say, because she has been given the old lady up-do, and we are seeing some major roots action. She wants to embody a happy me. Mr. Jay says that Jenah doesn’t read as shy and insecure, she comes off as a snot.

In comes Salacious D, and she is greeted by Brent Poer with enthusiasm, favoritism and a fawning show of love. He totally fluffs her. She gets on the mark and promptly sucks. She keeps bugging her eyes. On Take 12, Mr. Jay tells her that they need the bright smile and twinkle that she has shown in her photos. She interviews that she just can’t put the words together right. On Take 17 Salacious D gets sad and needs a minute to compose herself. Proving that she has taken all of Tyra’s wisdom to heart, she walks off set to cry (and not ruin her eye make up). Then she comes back and I guess does fine, because we don’t go back to the commercial, we cut to the still shoot. The photographer is Jim Deyonker and hes asking for sexy and fun. Chantallobotomy is asked to give flirty eyes. Jenah takes a nice shot, except for the horrible up do. We don’t even see Salacious D’s shoot. But we do see the judging, where Tyra says that this is the second most important judging of the season. The guest judge is Qi Gang, the designer in whose show they will stomp to the death on the runway of fame and fortune.

It is time for the annual and excruciating question: Who has the most, and who has the least potential in the house… Salacious D goes first and says that of course, she has the mostest, and that rude and disrespectful beeyotch Jenah has the least. The least personality, the least hope of winning, the least potential, the least of the least. Chantallobotomy predictably announces that she is the girl with the mostest, hands down. And yeah, that Jenah is the pits. Chantallobotomy wouldn’t want her to win, because she wouldn’t want her little sisters (or anybody’s little sisters) to have that dour old puss as a role model. Jenah respectfully disagrees with both of the other girls and says that just because she isn’t all bubbly all the freaking time, that doesn’t make her an evil person or a bad role model. And for good measure, she says that Chantallobotomy has the least potential because she is so painfully amateur.

Now the judges judge: Nigel says that Salacious D is stiff, but that she managed, despite that, to smile with her eyes. Mr. Jay reported that it required 20 takes to get a usable chunk of footage. Gang says that she makes him believe in the fruity lip gloss. Tyra shows how to give a variety of smiles, which apparently, Salacious D did not do. Chantallobotomy has natural charm says Twiggy, but Nigel says that she was technically bad. Mr. Jay says that she is so tewtally the girl next door, and completely believable. Jenah is told that she was so unbelievable that the judges think she was mocking the commercial. She was dissing the client. Once more Jenah tries to defend herself by saying that just because she ain’t spewing rainbows everywhere she combs her hair she isn’t a bad role model. She cries. She tells Tyra that she had to raise herself and her sisters. Tyra tells her that she, Jenah just had some sort of break through and just found herself, the real Jenah on the other side of the Great Wall of China. And they finish the flaying of Jenah by telling her that she took a great photo. Which she did, except for the old lady hair and make up. Commercials.

Jaslene gargles her way through a recap of her year as a Cover Girl, and we see that she has made great strides in learning to talk, which means nothing because going from 20 marbles and a mouth full of oatmeal to only 5 marbles and a mouth full of oatmeal still means that you can’t understand a word she says. She is also wearing a pair of the hootchiest, chonga earrings this side of Little Havana. I see that her personal style hasn’t changed an iota. More’s the pity. Back to the judging room, where the final two will be determined.

Chantallobotomy gets the first picture, and she weeps that she’s been dreaming of this moment for a long time. Snore. Salacious D and Jenah step forward. Salacious D, you came in with experience and yet girls like Jenah here totally outshone you. But we believed in you, and we kept you and you got stronger. Jenah, you came in with no experience and took amazing photos that rival today’s top working models. Today you had a breakthrough in now we know the real you. There’s a career out there for you that can be kick ass. Leave us now, and go get real work, because Salacious D is the

other girl in the top two.

Yet another photo shoot, this time for the cover of 17 magazine, and the editrix, Ann Shoket is back to bore us senseless with her innocuous babbling. But first, we have to listen to Chantallobotomy do a rundown of her greatest hits: meant to be here, my destiny, God’s plan, blahblahblah. Give it a rest, already. And finally and at long last, we get to the fashion show. It will be held next to the Forbidden City, and there will be a cast of extras dressed like Ching Dynasty warriors filling the enormous courtyard. The runway is long enough for a 747 to take off from. Backstage, we see that Jaslene will be in this show too, leading off. She is sitting in a make up chair, fanning herself. Please, girl. Salacious D and Chantallobotomy ask Jaslene for some words of wisdom. Confucious-like, she tells them that when she first won, she’d be in the bathroom before a show, talking to God. Here is an exact quote: “I’m like oh my god, God, I’m still weeping in fear before a show.” Words fail me.

Salacious D has some great hair and make up, as does Chantallobotomy, who also has the better dress. Chantallobotomy declares that this is her moment, and Salacious D says that no, it’s now her destiny. The show opens with Miss Jay, Twiggy, Nigel and Tyra (former top models and/or runway coaches all) strutting the runway to their thrones at the other end of the courtyard. Nigel, pervy though he may be, still has it. So do Miss Jay and Twiggs. Needless to say, Tyra throws down some serious shade for her proteges to try and live up to. Jaslene goes first and works it, at least according to Tyra. Salacious D is looking good. Chantallobotomy is meh. Salacious D does her second pass and confessionalizes that people watching her? is the best, and I quote: “People watching me? Life just don’t get no better than this.” The Number One Surrogate Daughter notes that Salacious’ grammar, however, can and should be better. Chantallobotomy comes out in an amazing dress with about six miles of train, and promptly ensnares one of the stilt walkers who are accompanying the models down the runway. He takes a major tumble. She cries, but continues walking. She cries about her destiny again. She says that she “broke character”. Who knew that models, when they stomp down the catwalk, were in character. You mean to tell me that the vacant stare and bitch face is character, and not nature? I, for one, am stunned by this revelation.

And it is time for the final judgment. Miss Jay says that Chantallobotomy took baby doll steps and walked too fast on the runway. Twiggy says that Chantallobotomy got too nervous, and that Salacious D owned the runway. Nigel calls Chantallobotomy weak. Tyra says that Salacious D was using too much shoulder and booty, as opposed to Chantallobotomy, who was too stiff. Miss Jay says that Chantallobotomy has a high fashion body, but can’t work it. Salacious D can control her body. Tyra says that she didn’t think either of these two would be finalists, she thought that they were too commercial and would go home early. Tyra says that one of them came from Austin and the other from LA, and that explains their inner beauties. Hey, listen, I gave up trying to understand Tyra years ago. And so, the winner of this year’s ANTM is (and I know that all of you are as shocked as I) Salacious D, aka Baby Tyra, graduate of Tyra camp, believer of all things Tyra, and chosen winner somewhere around week three when the guy from Elite met her and said she had the total package.

As she weeps for the final time, Chantallobotomy tells us that God still wants her to model. And God want Miz Shoes to ridicule the shit out of people like Chantallobotomy, so we’re all fulfilling our destinies, Luke.

Heather Mail!!!! And we miss her already. Binaca, however, only misses that there is no Heather to emotionally abuse any more. In her usual charming way, Binaca interviews that since Heather was always in her own world anyway, there’s really no difference with her gone. Have I mentioned that I loathe that beeyotch, Binaca? I have? Good. It deserves repetition. Jenah interviews that she just can’t see herself going home. Chantallobotomy can see Jenah going home, and she described the vision to the viewing audience: Jenah is just falling apart. However, and there is alway a however with the lovely yet clueless Chantallobotomy, she, Chantallobotomy is not falling apart. She is getting stronger, and more beautiful, and closer to that which is her destiny: being America’s Next Top Model. She was born to win this, even though the show wasn’t even a twinkle in Miss Tyty’s eye when C. was born. Binaca comes back in to say “Shut the fug UP, Chantallobotomy.” Binaca says that Chantallobotomy is always so cheerful and perky and happy and that just twists Binaca’s knickers into a very big and annoyed knot.

After that recap, we head out with the girls to a park somewhere in Beijing. In come a couple of pallaquins, holding Twiggy and Miss Jay. The girls are going to get a culture lesson about the four greatest, legendary beauties of China. There is the girl who made the flowers bow their heads, the girl who made the moon disappear and the girl who caused something else to happen and yet another one, ditto. Binaca pays less attention to this than I did, and makes eye-rolling what evs, and says yeah, yeah, yeah four girls/four beauties I get it, next. Kulchur ain’t her thang, it seems. So having paid little to no attention to the lesson, the girls go to their new home and find Tyra Mail and four boxes. In each box is one of the costumes from the four beauties. The challenge will be to update/modernize/accessorize these dresses and make them their own. To this end, the girls are sent off to a ginormous shopping mall and given a couple of hundred dollars. They have one hour to shop and chop and then they will have to walk a runway to show off the look.

Off they go. Binaca tells Jenah (in the previews I thought it was Salacious D) that across the street at the other side of the mall is some really hot stuff. There is only 35 minutes left, Binaca has already scoped out the other side and there is absolutely nothing nada nil over there. She says that fucking with Jenah and seeing her head off on a wild goose chase really made her feel better. Charming girl, that Binaca. Curious isn’t it that even before we knew how stank she is the name I gave her was one of an anti-stank breath spray? Stank just oozes on a subliminal level, I guess.

The guest judge for their impromptu runway is Ann Shoket from 17. Salacious D is first and she has accessorized well, and her walk is fierce. Chantallobotomy is smooth and natural. Binaca had a cute idea to hoist her skirt up with fleurchons and show off her great gams, but the overall look was a leetle too hip hop. Jenah has shortened her dress to a modern cocktail dress and unbuttons her overcoat as she comes down the runway, doing something (GASP! SHOCK!!!) that actually looks like a real model on a real runway. She is the clear winner. She is going to get a custom made traditional Chinese gown and she can include a friend in the prize. She chooses Chantallobotomy (SHOCK!!! GASP!) on account of she isn’t a backstabbing ho. She also gets private runway lessons from Miss Jay. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the prizes this year are better than in past years, even if there isn’t a $40,000 diamond bracelet in the mix. The lessons seem to do her some good.

And back we go to the gilded hamster cage for Tyra Mail.

Binaca gets more screen time as she interviews that old Chantallobotomy and Salacious D think that they are going to be in the top two, but they don’t realize that she, Binaca the Stank Ho from Queens has come here to win, and she ain’t leavin’ till she does. Ohhhh, hubris where is thy sting? Cut to Jaslene gargling something or another about her life as a Cover Girl and this is the Latina Magazine cover…. Which was in my dentist’s office in June… Still, it was a cover of something other than 17. I guess. There was some talking but, you know, it came out of Jaslene’s mouf, so it could have been Russian for all I could understand it. Speaking of Russian, what ever happened to Natasha? I miss her. She was sweet and cute and made cat noises in the cell phone for her husband. Anyway, the next shoot will be at the Great Wall of China. They will be Mongols trying to invade. They must have strong faces. Tyra will be the photographer. Salacious D says that she’s going to be Xena, Warrior Princess. Jenah says she misses her family and she’s going to cry. Chantallobotomy, predictably, loves the challenge, loves the enormous, gigantic sideways hair bun, the clothes and the model lifestyle of jet-setting around to cool places. Binaca, predictably, says the other girls can eat the corn from her shit and that she doesn’t care or think about anything but her own self.

Jenah is first and Tyra asks her what’s on the other side of the wall for her. Jenah says that Jenah is. That she’s losing her sense of self. She is wearing the same sideways bread loaf bun that Chantallobotomy is wearing. I’m just going to throw this out here: In the disappearing girls photo, Jenah and Chantallobotomy are standing next to each other. They are wearing the same color wraps. They were given the same make overs. They are being given the same hair and make up here. Do we think that there are going to be two winners this year? Did the show get such mileage out of the twins that they made a set? I’m just asking.

Binaca comes out and sucks. Tyra and the Little Orange Man say that the first 40 shots were “painful” but that the last 20 were good. Ish. Salacious D rocks the house, jumping and posing and looking edgy and fierce. This is her best shoot evah, and she even used the environment…whatever that means. Then, Tyra gets all four models together and does a group shot. Salacious D says that she kept telling herself that she had to stand out. Binaca says that Salacious kept sticking that damned bun in her face and blocking her from view. The world out in teevee land says, Thank you Salacious D. But alas, this absence of stank doesn’t last, because we are back at the house and there is Binaca, psyching everyone else about how scared are you guys about going home because I’m not scared at all. Chantallobotomy isn’t scare either, because she is sure that this is her birthright. Her destiny. God’s will. Binaca, having lost Heather, now starts up on Chantallobotomy and Salacious D. She has this to say about Miss Salecia: She has a lot of experience, so for her to not be outstanding really sucks for her. Jenah just says, tearfully, that she is not going home.

And, panel. There are Jenah and Chantallobotomy in their matching custom Chinese robes. Except (is this a hint?) Jenah’s blue dress has a magnificent stand up collar, sort of like the evil queen in Snow White. Ann Shoket is the guest judge. Jenah is first, as she was the challenge winner. Tyra says that even though Jenah did a good shoot, she (Tyra) couldn’t remember a thing about it when it was over. Except that Jenah looked like the costume was wearing her. Not good. Jenah cries and talks about missing her family and wanting to be a role model for her two baby sisters. And for baby sisters every where. Sniff, sniff. Girl, you don’t cry at panel, you are supposed to cry in your one on one with Tyra before the fashion show, and then tell her how she has changed your life. Do you girls not watch this show?

Miss Jay says that Binaca was as stiff as the wall, and almost scary. The main thing that Tyra took away from working with Binaca was that she is so NOT a natural model. Chantallobotomy was perfect, and she was the only one who really understood the concept. My head just exploded when I typed that. Ann tells her that she’s (Chantallobotomy) is so pretty and happy. Binaca seethes in the background, and you can almost see her head explode. Salacious D was great with a capital G and she jumped around. And she looked at the camera.

In the group shot, each of the four judges found a different girl to be the standout. Tyra likes Binaca and says she looks sort of like a boy. Do you think it might be the shaved head? Twiggy likes Jenah, and Nigel says something really pervy about why couldn’t you look at ME like that about one of the two blondes. Time to discuss who’s getting the boot back to the US of A. Nigel says that Jenah’s little speech sounded like her swan song, like she’d already lost in her head. Twiggy says that Binaca is the least natural model she’s ever seen. Chantallobotomy has begun channeling her inner diva, but Miss Jay says (and redeems himself with me despite that dopey Afro he’s been sporting) that she looks like a boat show model. You know, the girl who stands around and points to the Evinrudes. Salacious D has finally found the high fashion model inside her.

And the winner this week is Chantallobotomy who gets two pictures: the group shot and the single. Salacious D is second. Jenah and Binaca are the bottom two. Jenah was strong from the start, but is starting to weaken. You didn’t sound like a winner when you talked to us today. Binaca, this has been a long journey for a girl from Queens, but we feel that the only way you can do a fashion shoot is with constant coaching. You still have your training wheels on. You can’t do it on your own. So go the fuck back to Queens, you stank ho. Jenah, we’re giving you another chance.

And so it is the two dim blondes and Salacious D. I think it’s too early for another Battle of the Blondes (Carideemented and Melrose who wuz robbed). Unless they are going to give us a twin win, it’s Salacious D in the cat bird seat next week.

We begin our 11th episode with the remaining five bitches and hos in Shanghai. In what I am sure will come as a stunning turn of events for viewers everywhere, Binaca is talking shit to Heather. What were you thinking, when you were in the bottom two? she sweetly asks our favorite mildly-autistic beauty. Miz Shoes was thinking that of all the girls who ever needed a high fashion ass-whupping, it is that relentlessly evil stank ho, Binaca. Chantallobotomy and Jenah both bitch about Heather getting fed her lines and still sucking, and Jenah says that what really sucks is that ANTM has turned into a personality competition, not a modeling competition. And I ask you, is this news? Has she watched the show in seasons past? Someone who has watched is StankHoBinaca, who has been keeping track of the episodes and knows, even before the Tyra Mail is opened, that this is the week for go-sees. She is jumping up and down and squealing “GOSEEGOSEEGOSEEGOSEE!!!!”

Sure enough, the girls are sent to PT Modeling Agency, there to meet Susan Yang, the director. Salacious D is delighted to be going on go-sees, because she says they are the best. Heather thinks that she might have a problem with first impressions. Susan gives the girls their portfolios, their list of instructions, their translators and their drivers and a final admonition to be back by 6 on the dot.

The first whiff of trouble comes when Salacious D says that the drivers drop them off in the area, but not directly in front of their destinations. Binaca is interviewing that she totally has to win this, because she is totally going to be America’s Next Top Model. She is going to win. She has to win. And cut to Heather, wandering around lost…for at least half an hour. Chantallobotomy makes it to her first designer and is handed a sheer white dress. This is nice. She is wearing hot pink and black lace undies, which we and everyone in a five-mile radius can see through the dress. She has forgotten the first rule of go sees, which is to wear nude underwear. The designer is so shocked and appalled that he can barely tell her that she sucks and needs to be wearing nude underwear. She says he was harsh.

We see Binaca, again, and again she is whawhawhaing about going home is not an option. To which I say, fine. Stay in China, and never darken my tv screen again. Chantallobotomy makes it to Flora Zeta’s show room, and is dismissed with the statement that she might be fine for print, but that she cannot walk a runway. The other girls are now on their second and third go sees, and Heather is still wandering around in circles. She is remarkably sangfroid about it, though, unlike last year’s Brittney who would have been shrieking and biting the heads of of small passersby by now. Heather finally wanders in to a show room, and is asked to walk. She does. She is asked to make eye contact. She does not. This is repeated several times. Still, the designer loves her look. Jenah sees the same designer and is told flat out that her walk is awful.

Binaca and Salacious D end up in the same show room at the same time. Binaca was there first, and is just kissing the designer’s ass and throwing down major attitude at Salacious D, who is quietly waiting on the settee. As Binaca leaves, she asks Salacious D where the next designer is located. Salacious D, who has just come from there, smiles brightly and says as how she just has no idea. Binaca heads out and Salacious D snickers that the designer in question is about three floors up from where she is sitting. Binaca finds this out when she goes back to her driver and asks to be taken. The gloves are now officially off, bitches.

Heather is now lost again, to the degree that she has also lost her car and driver. She is terribly worried that she only got to see one designer. Chantallobotomy agrees to try on one more dress, and makes herself late. Binaca is running late, too. Salacious D does not want to be disqualified, and so heads off early to allow for unforeseen circumstances. Jenah is running late, sees Heather wandering around and won’t give her a lift. What a shitty thing to do. Competition or not, leaving someone wandering around lost in a foreign locale (even when that person is accompanied by a film crew) is a shitty, shitty thing to do. Karma’s a bitch baby, but not as big a bitch as Binaca.

In the end, only Binaca and Salacious D make it back to the agency on time. Jenah is 15 minutes late. Chantallobotomy is 20 minutes late. There is much hilarity as the girls discuss Heather, and how they’ve seen her wandering around, lost and without her cab. Ho, ho, ho. Such yocks. Heather, who does finally find her cab, is 40 minutes late. Only Binaca and Salacious D are eligible for the win. They load up onto their bus back to the gilded penthouse, and the other four all tell Heather not to be so hard on herself (that’s their job) and so what if she only saw one designer. Big deal. Bitches. Tonight is their night to go on the town, and I’m sorry that Janice Dickenson isn’t there to show Binaca and Salacious D what a real ball cutter looks like. I’m also sorry that Tiffany isn’t there to pour a beer on a bitch’s weave. Or bare scalp in the case of Binaca. They are dining water-side and taking in the view when Susan Yang comes in to tell them who won. Looking out across the harbor, they see a boat with a huge, illuminated billboard advertising the 2008 Beijing Olympics. There, in all her big mouthed, toothy glory(?) is Binaca. She is happy. Miz Shoes is not. Binaca won, says Susan because although she was stiff and nervous, her pictures were good. Salacious D had the personality, but all her pictures looked alike. I’m thinking that if there had been more than two choices, neither of these two would have won.

Speaking of if there had been another choice, Jaslene comes on to talk about “my life” (note: that’s just My Life, and there is no As A Covergirl). She says what I think is that it is a tradition for the ANTM winner to throw out the first pitch at an Orioles game. Now this is just totally confusing to me. Jaslene is from Chicago. Noxema, who was the first girl to chuck out a baseball, as I recall, was from Detroit. The show is filmed in L.A. So how does Baltimore get the tradition and/or questionable “honor”? Jaslene, despite looking like a tranny, throws like a girl and gets the ball straight up in the air, and no where near home plate. It’s a shining moment. For someone. Somewhere.

Back with the hamsters, there is Tyra Mail. “No lion, it’ll take a lot of pride to get through this challenge.” Ooh, ooh!!! Posing with animals!!! Says one of the dumb blondes. They make it to the location and there is a lot of talk about the noisy bugs. I don’t know why. Except for the sound of the locusts, there is nothing at all to do with bugs. We have a repeat of the silk lion/dragons who announced that we’d be coming to China. And our photographer today is—- NIGEL! WHEE!!! I love Nigel. This is the shot where they have to stand out in a crowd. The example is that wooly-eyebrowed snooze who won in the Bolly-wood shot. What was her name? The one who freaked out over birds? Nicole. Who was from like, Frostbite Falls, Minnesota. Another location with baseball that isn’t Baltimore.

We next see Jenah getting all sarcastic with Nigel. He’s come to talk to her about not being nervous with him because he’s a judge and she just blows him off, fanning herself and saying she’ll try hard not to faint. He makes a snide comment about her sarcarsm. The other hamsters are horrified that Jenah is so rude. Well, it’s no “Is that the stick you pulled out of your ass after the last panel”, but it isn’t good. Out on the set, Nigel tells her that she is a Chinese princess, and that she needs to inspire him and impress Jay. He also tells her that he gets bored easily, so she needs to mix it up with her poses and her angles. Jay says that it just wasn’t in her eyes today. No pop. Unlike Salacious D, who, says Jay, is all confidence.

Backstage, we see Binaca preening over herself and deciding that she isn’t going to smile because it makes her make up wrinkle. I don’t know. I just take notes, people. In front of the camera, Jay tells her to smile, and not look so mean. That, my little orange man, is like asking a skunk not to stink. Chantallobotomy is channeling her inner Carol Channing, and doing big arms, and Diana Ross show girl poses. Jay tells her to stop forcing it. Heather is walking around, psyching herself up. The other girls ridicule her and say she must be thinking about making art with her body. I hate these girls. At least they aren’t all up in her face this time, they are politely out of hearing range. Heather says that she is just going to go with her instincts and intuitions and not think too much. She hits a pose and looks like Uma Thurman in a brunette wig. The other girls are all behind Nigel, watching. And, of course, sniping about how bad Heather is doing. Jenah in particular is jealous of Heather’s outfit and starts showing how she’d be working that shit. Nigel tells her to put a sock in it. Really. Jay says that Heather was second guessing herself, not up to her usual standards.

There is Tyra mail, and once more, Binaca says that she knows she’s good, that she’s not going home and that her shit don’t stink and that she invented modeling. Jenah says that, uh, well, it was a bad week for her and she is nervous. In the judging room, there is barely enough room for both Miss Jay’s afro and Tyra’s ego. They somehow make it work. The guest judge is Susan Yang. First up for individual evals is Chantallobotomy, who, it is duly noted was 20 minutes too late to compete in the challenge and it’s probably for the best, seeing as how the hot pink and black lace underwear was such a glaring faux pas. Tyra and Miss Jay explain how one can rinse one’s step-ins in the hotel sink and still be ready with flesh-colored undies on go-see day. Her Nigel photo wasn’t bad, but every time she got a compliment on set, she’d get giddy and lose it. Lose what? Her composure? Her mind? More on this later.

Binaca was the challenge winner, as two of the three designers would book her. Her Nigel photo is critiqued thusly: body amazing, face awful. Stank in/stank out, I say. She isn’t fluid on the set. She wouldn’t relax and smile. Jenah was 15 minutes too late to compete in the challenge (and nobody brings up how she left Heather wandering around in the street). She has a diverse portfolio and not enough personality. What personality she does have, nobody likes. Be careful with your sense of humor, say Tyra and Nigel. You could offend people. Yeah? Remember Carideemented and the stick? That didn’t seem to hurt her, and I thought that was a hell of a lot ruder than not swooning for Nigel.

Salacious D came in second on the challenge (or last, depending on how one wishes to look at second place out of two). She had a great personality and good pictures. Nigel says she was his favorite to shoot. Miss Jay says that she finally pushed the envelope and looks edgy-ish rather than like a commercial girl who is trying to look edgy with an edgy haircut. She still didn’t win, though. And that leaves Heather, who was 40 minutes late. Her runway walk was seen as a little awkward. Miss Jay asks her to walk for them, right there and she does. Sadly, Miss Jay says that all Heather really needs is a Top Model ass-whooping, but it’s a little too late for that now. Twiggy loves her picture and Susan says that Heather has a great look for China. And off the girls go, to await the decision.

Nigel says that Binaca was his least favorite girl, and Miz Shoes says “Amen and hand to g-d”. Salacious D is on the edge of the steps of high fashion, what ever that means. Chantallobotomy is missing something…like, maybe, a clue. And that, my friends and loyal readers, is why I have been calling her Chantallobotomy since day one. She doesn’t have enough brain cells to rub together to light up a neuron. Jenah is good girl with an awful, know-it-all personality, and Heather has some sort of disconnect. Oh. You think? Isn’t that the Aspberger’s? Still, says Nigel, all she has to do is get in front of the camera and the camera finds the beauty. Everyone, he says, would like her.

And the pictures go to: Salacious D, and in the background we see Binaca just loathing the fact that it isn’t her. There is a forced smile on her face and hatred in her eyes. She gets the second picture and a lecture not to go to sleep this close to the prize. Chantallobotomy is third and told to hold it together. Finally, there are Jenah and Heather, both of whom have the strongest pictures, yet neither can communicate in person. There is some weird, obvious voice over from Tyra, the first time that I’ve ever heard it so clearly. I wonder what she really said… Jenah has a personality that turns off the judges, and yet, she gets the final photo. It is the matter of the go sees. You can’t get the jobs if you can’t get to the casting call. The judges are clearly sad to have to send Heather home, but not as sad as we are out here on the couch.

Heather has the last word, though, and it is classy. “The experience” she says, “was much more than the prize.” I’m sure she’ll do just fine. Unlike a certain bald-headed stank bitch, who we see giving Salacious D a little pay back in the previews for next week.

The girls return from judging to the mansion on the hill, where they find a pile of books about China. Heather interviews that she always wanted to go to China, Jenah is dumping clothes higgledy-piggledy into a suitcase, Lisa is saying that being in the bottom two really took the life out of her and Binaca is bitching about Heather. Again. Change the station, already. We know you don’t like her, we know you are jealous of the way the other girls and the judges treat her, and we know that you a stank ho. So unless you have something new to add, we pretty much have heard all you got, Binaca. You can put a sock in it already.

And off they go, in the little animated airplane, to Shanghai. Binaca says that everything is made in China, so to her, Shanghai is just one big shopping mall, and all she wants to do (besides send Heather back on the first boat) is go shopping, shopping, shopping. Heather loves being in China and says that she does not want to go home. We don’t want you to be sent home either, honey. You are the crowd favorite this season. Chantallobotomy allows as how she had no clue that China would be so amazing. She says it looks like something from the Jetsons. I guess, except, you know, for the lack of flying cars, robots and buildings that float in the air. Heather, in her inimitable deadpan, says that Shanghai is like no city she’s ever seen. Except, maybe, Las Vegas. We see a montage of neon lights and high rise buildings. Binaca says that she didn’t fly 14 hours to turn around and fly home, and that when she leaves, she’s leaving happy. Well, she’ll certainly be leaving Miz Shoes happy, but I suspect that wasn’t what she meant.

The two Jays greet the girls and tell them to get rested and ready for the next phase of ANTM. They send them to the hamster cage, which turns out to be a penthouse suite in some bazillionty story high rise. There is immediate drama when the dorm room proves to have only 5 beds. Salacious D plants herself on an enormous bed that looks like a triple king, and Jenah, Binaca, Chantallobotomy and Lisa claim the other four. Which leaves, if you are paying attention, Heather without a place to sleep. True to form, the other girls laugh and laugh and pull Heather’s chain, trying to make her snap because that’s the most fun they can have in the house: torturing the faintly autistic one. Salacious D refuses to share the giant bed, saying the only people she gets in bed with are men, which I suppose means that if Jaslene were still around, she’s share with her. Lisa barely sprawls across a tiny little fainting couch and laughs herself sick telling Heather that she could always sleep on that. Much hilarity ensues among all the hamsters over that bon mot. Binaca says that she’s so happy that they were able to make Heather freak out. Then, when Heather asks what the joke is, Binaca charmingly tells her “you the joke.” I have got to say that Binaca is a new level of stank, even for the show that brought us Bree, Camille and Darth Jader. After everyone catches their breath from the side-splitting humor of the past ten minutes, Chantallobotomy decides that Heather is getting ganged up on, and that it isn’t right and so negotiates that Binaca and Jenah will share the big bed, and Heather won’t have to sleep on the floor. It is Chantallobotomy’s finest moment. I almost forget how annoying she is by this show of fair play and compassion. Heather steps up her game and interviews that she’s very much over being picked on and teased and that she’s just not going to let it get her down.

Amusingly enough, and in a major show of good editing (and how did THAT happen?) the Tyra mail contains this “I can’t stand the bitching and the fighting in the house.” Get ready to rumble. Off the girls go to a film studio where they meet Louis, who is not really a tour guide, but their martial arts instructor. They are shown the Old Shanghai street set, and then martial arts mayhem breaks out around them. Pretty cool. They learn that today’s lesson will be martial arts basic forms and positions. This lights Heather up, who interviews that she always wanted to do martial arts, but her mom wouldn’t let her. “Thanks, MOM.” she says in her funny, slightly off way. We see them trying to learn the positions, which admittedly, are a lot more complex than the five basic positions everyone knows from ballet. Binaca and Chantallobotomy can’t follow the speed, or really hit the forms. This makes Binaca, in her own words, get sour. Honey? Sour is to you, what a Mento in Diet Coke is to Old Faithful. Puh-leeze.

They change into Chinese robes, and then are brought into a courtyard where they are shown flying rigs. They will be put in the flying harnesses, and hoisted into the air. Then Louis will call out positions, and they will have to hit them…in mid-air. Heather is psyched. She thinks this is just tits, man. What a hoot! What fun! Lisa does what Lisa does, which is to say she starts to cry. Binaca does not like heights, remember? So she is not a happy camper about this exercise. Ha. And ha. Stank beeyotch.

Jenah and Chantallobotomy are first, and neither of them can balance in the flying rigs. They give it their best, but still can’t remember which pose is which. It is amusingly bad. Lisa and Salacious D are the next pair in the air, and Lisa spends the time screeching in fear and sucking. Heather and Binaca go last, and Binaca makes a “joke” about this being the only time Heather can smack her around. Binaca interviews that she doesn’t trust strangers. She has a huge fear of heights. She can’t go high. The other girls tell her she has to do this, what if in real life she gets a job that requires her to go high or something. She says that she just wouldn’t take those jobs. Louis tells her that if she doesn’t do this challenge, she will be disqualified. And we cut to Jaslene’s Life as a Cover Tranny. She’s shooting for 17 again. This time a fshnn shute. Although her diction has improved over the weeks, she still can’t deliver a line in a way that can be understood without closed captioning. Really. She’s an embarrassment to trannies every where.

Back in Shanghai Binaca is explaining that she wants to model, not fly in the air. To which I say… why? I’d take the ability to fly, even on wires, over being a clothes hanger any day. But in any event, Binaca tries, gets about 10 feet off the ground and starts to freak out. She cries, she wails, she begs to come down. She shakes, she cries, she totally loses her shit, and refuses to participate in the challenge, which means that Heather gets to fly around by herself, striking poses at will. She is fucking awesome at this. There is no challenge, really, she is the clear winner of this one. Her prize is a $500 shopping spree. Hardly a $40,000 dollar diamond, or a day at a Thai spa, but money is money and shopping is shopping. She gets to take a frenemy, and although she knows how much Binaca wants to shop, well, Binaca is a stank ho who keeps torturing her for shits and giggles, so she takes Chantallobotomy instead. Because Chantallobotomy was nice to her, and made sure that Heather didn’t have to sleep in the rags and ashes in the fireplace.

We get to see the girls shopping in an all-night mall. It’s pretty amazing, and Heather points out that she and C are like giants in a land of little people. That Heather. What a way with words. Well, at least you can understand what she says. They finally make it back to the gilded cage, and there is Tyra mail, telling them to channel their inner queens. Let their beauty reign. Another person with a way with words. Only, nobody has a clue what that means. There is a footnote and it tells them to bring their own clothes to the shoot tomorrow. Clothes that express who they are. Their inner personality. I don’t know if Binaca brought her devil tail and horns, we’ll have to wait and see.

It’s a Cover Girl shoot! There will be both print and a tv commercial. Brent, from Cover Girl, gives them a script to memorize, and shows them that there is a hole in the script where each girl will have to insert an ad lib about what makes them a queen. Yes, they are shooting for the Queen Latifah line, hence all the queen references. We get a quick series of Heather fretting that she can’t memorize lines, Chantallobotomy complaining that she doesn’t want to wear her own clothes (which we’ll see soon enough was a valid complaint) and Lisa mumbling and psyching herself up to sucking.

Salacious D goes first and is adorable, damn her, and nails it in four takes. Binaca finally gets to take seven, where she says that she’s a queen because she has flaws but makes them beautiful. (HAH!) Heather comes out and looks wonderful, with her hair all loose and curled. She fails rather spectacularly. She makes faces and sticks out her tongue when she fumbles a line. She absolutely cannot deliver. Finally, Jay feeds her her lines. And even that doesn’t help because she can’t mimic the inflection he uses. I realize that she looks like Bebe Neuwirth. But her line about “I’m a queen because I’m different and proud of it” is killer.

Jenah has a great delivery (after about 12 takes) and really horrible lower teeth. I never noticed them before, being blinded by those rabbit fangs in the front. She’s also showing roots and the rat weave isn’t holding up so great. But she has on a great t-shirt, and she can do a commercial. Chantallobotomy is wearing what looks to be Raggedy Ann’s old dress. She says that she’s a queen because she loves and pampers herself. Then she wrinkles her nose and you just know that that little nose wrinkle has broken more teenage boys’ hearts than she can count. The judges love her to death.

Lisa. Lisa starts out bad, and then gets worse. Every time she flubs a line she gets more tense, and then of course, the tears come. Little Orange Man says that Lisa only focuses on failing. Salacious D goes over and tries to help Lisa, and gives her a pep talk and Lisa gives Salacious D a very rude sort of mind your own fucking business brush off. Salacious D saunters off saying she won’t help a ho that don’t want helping.

And…..back to the penthouse where the usual pre-judging smack is going down. Lisa doesn’t want to go home. Binaca asks the question “What will you do if you have to go home?” My notes don’t say, and I’ve slept since then, but I’m pretty sure that this question is addressed to (of course) Heather. Binaca says that she for sure is not getting the boot, because they can’t send her home just for not taking the challenge. And I’ve watched enough seasons to know that she won’t get sent home until the powers that be have milked the last drop of human unkindness from her stank self. Jump to judging where Jenah is looking amazing for a change, but sort of wobbly in her high heels, Twiggy. Nigel. Miss Jay in yet another ginormous afro wig. Jeffrey Chu, who was the Director of Photography on the Cover Girl shoot.

Lisa is first. She looked panicked and like she was about to cry, and her forehead really wrinkles up when she talks. “I was.” Then cry, says Tyra. Let it out and then move on, because otherwise, you look like this: like you are about to cry and the whole shoot is fucked. Cry, but don’t mess the make up and then carry on. Her still shot, however, looks great, which means it must have been Photochopped. Jeffrey gives her props for being able to do a fierce still immediately after walking off a set where she was crying and blowing chunks. Nice guy. Chantallobotomy squinches up her eyes when she smiles, and her wardrobe is universally abhored, but the nose wrinkle got called out for cuteness.

Binaca, Tyra notes, was disqualified from the challenge this week. Yes, says Binaca, I have trust issues. Nigel (and we have seen way too little of Nigel this season) spits out “Then you are in the wrong business, honey.” Yeah. And your commercial sucked too. And my lord, but that girl has a huge mouth. When she smiles, she looks like those characters from South Park, whose heads split in half at the mouth. Jenah comes out and Nigel tells her she lacks charm. Twiggy says that she wouldn’t buy anything that Jenah was selling. But her still, with her hair flying and her arms up over her head like she was caught dancing? That’s a great shot. And everyone liked her t-shirt.

Salacious D gets the highest compliments from Twiggy, who calls her an actress, and Nigel who says she flirts with the camera, and advice on how to reduce the baggage under the eyes from Tyra. Heather gets slammed as the judges say she got special treatment and still sucked. They tell her to focus, not to make funny faces when she flubs a line because it makes the editing so difficult. And then they see her still shot and you could hear a pin drop. She is smiling. A glorious, big, amazing, Julia Roberts quality smile. Who knew?

The actual judging starts and the first thing is that all the girls sucked big time at commercials. Having said that, someone has to win and someone has to lose. Lisa? Sucked the worst of all. Chantal was pretty and cute and did the least sucking. Heather disappointed in her delivery. Salacious D is great, but is she getting better as the weeks go on? Jenah is seen as distinctly unlikeable by Nigel and Tyra admits that she doesn’t have any inner attractiveness. Which maybe explains why she also gets no air time, even though she’s still here after 10 weeks. Binaca’s delivery was hideous and Miss Jay and Nigel find her weak. 

As Tyra poses, ready to hand out photos, she says that collectively, they sucked. But, giving Chantallobotomy the first photo, you sucked the least. But get rid of that horrible thing you were wearing. Salacious D gets the second photo and the lecture that week to week she impresses the judges with her spirit, but she’s slowing down. Binaca: somebody needs to work on her fears. Her still was seen as beautiful, but her film was a disaster. Jenah, surprisingly, gets the next photo and Lisa and Heather are the bottom two. Lisa, predictably, starts crying. She has personality plus, but she can’t handle critiques. She needs some self esteem. Heather comes in and the judges lovelovelove her, but her commercial? Eek. Even with Jay feeding her lines, she still couldn’t deliver. Still, the judges think you have a certain something (it’s called Aspberger’s) and so… Heather stays and Lisa the Lap Dancer and champion cryer, goes back to the strip club. As her image fades, I realized that Jenah and Chantallobotomy are standing together in that shot, and wearing the exact same color. One of those girls is going home next week, I’ll bet, and I’ll bet it isn’t Chantallobotomy.