It is the end of the line for the bitches and the hos. The final three are Eugena of the dismal personality and bad skin, Everybody Hates Melrose and CariDeeMented. It just doesn't get any lamer better than that, does it? Well, yes it does. In order to coach the girls on their Covergirl shoot, we have a "real" covergirl come to visit. Is it Heidi Klum? Is it Tyrant? Is it anyone you've ever seen on a cover of anything? No. It is last year's winner, Dani(elle). I loved Danielle or else I'd say that this is not only self-referential, but just pathetic.

We have our Covergirl commercial and our final runway show. They all blow chunks in the commercial, which is somehow cobbled together to make something watchable, if not memorable or good. CariDeeMented's eyes dart left and right throughout her shoot. Melrose has a big-ass smile. Eugena tries (and fails) not to have dead eyes and a deadlier persona.

Then we shoot stills. There is some foreshadowing when the photographer gives high fives to Melrose and CariDeeMented and wishes Eugena good luck.
Unfortunately for Eugena, the good luck wishes aren't enough to keep her going to the final two, despite all the footage we get of her and CariDeeMented snuggling with each other and whispering how much they want it to be just the two of them in the finals.

CariDee and Eugena cry in each others arms when Eugena is sent away. CariDeeMented murmmurs sweetly to Eugena that she'll "bring this home for you, baby." and sweet tap dancing Jesus I wish I was making that up. But I'm not. Didn't CariDee have a boyfriend at the beginning of this show? Before she nailed Dennis Quaid, the random Spanish model guy and anything else that showed up available during shooting.

Anyway, now that Eugena is out of the way, we are treated or subjected (take your pick) to the Battle of the Blondes. Eugena opines that a "natural" blonde should win. I'm not going to venture down that road of how she knows, but I will point out that it wasn't Melrose's choice to go blonde.

The runway show is another freakfest. It takes place after dark in an Antonio Gaudi building. The theme is Bride of Dracula. Each trot down the runway gets darker and freakydeakier until the girls are running and shrieking (but still looking fierce and fabulous) down the passageway lit by candles.

Melrose-the-Loathed absolutely rocks the runway. She is fierce, she is beautiful, she can walk, she never loses sight of the fact that she is modeling clothes. She twirls, she stomps, she gives CariDeeMented a serious up and down stink eye when they are supposed to dis each other in passing. She uses her flamenco lessons to her advantage as she brings up her arms. She is amazing, even in white face. She is amazing even after CariDeeMented (maybe) accidentally rips Melrose's train to shreds. She still whips that fabric around and works it.

All of a sudden Miss Jay gets up out of the front row and disappears. Is he going to tell Melrose to get a grip and ignore the hateful little CariDeeMented's antics? We wish. He is off to join the runway show and drag queen along in a black bride of Blacula wedding dress, showing the girls how to camp it up for the final pass.

Melrose is perfect. CariDeeMented is perfectly deranged. She flails around. She makes really ugly, contorted faces. She bunches up the wedding dress so high and so tight we almost see her lady bits (and wouldn't THAT be special). She shrieks, she camps, she's awful.

Final judging. There is some talk about how all the girls hate Melrose and Tyra says maybe they hate her because she's just that good. Nigel mouths some bullshit about how Melrose is perfect, but only because she's a perfectionist and works too hard at it and maybe isn't a natural talent. He disses her for her know-it-all aspect.

Mr. Jay shows that he's got cojones, after all and points out (quite rightly) that what Nigel is dissing Melrose for is exactly what they are constantly bitching at the rest of the girls for NOT having: a personality, a clue about personal style, a working and pretty comprehensive knowledge of the fashion industry and a ferocious work ethic.

She's toast.

Despite the fact that she is just batshit crazy, despite the fact that she asked Nigel if the giant stick he was holding came out of his ass after a previous judging, despite the fact that all of the judges acknowledged that her runway walk was a disaster of horrorific proportions, CariDeeMented was crowned America's Next Top Model. Proving that she is NOT all that, and did NOT deserve to win, she tries to use Danielle's patented Mommy, I'm a Covergirl line. It doesn't work.

Cut to Melrose crying and saying she was robbed (which she was). Fade to black. Has the show finally jumped the shark?

Between this and Jeffrey-the-Pinheaded-Shmoo winning Project Runway, I think I have finally had my fill of "reality" teevee. In the immortal words of my grandpa: "Feh."

We are down to the last four bitches and hos, we are in Barthelona (no visit yet from Manuel, but I'm still hopeful) and it is the week the B&Hs learn to Flamenco. I'll wait for you all to stop choking with laughter.
All better now? Good. Because when you see these four and their pathetic footwork, you will only start choking again. Amanda starts the episode by interviewing that she is really, really sorry that her twin is gone, but then again, it's just one less bitch to beat out to the finals, so y'know? Blood, water, whatever. CariDee comes around to tell Amanda that she knows it's lonely for her without Michelle, and she, CariDee is there if Amanada needs a cuddle. Wrong twin, CariDee.

The girls get a Tyra mail about partnering and it, of course, leaves them clueless. But I'm beginning to think that with this particular litter, you could just spell it out: Tyra says this week you learn to dance. and they still would all be hanging over each other's shoulders going "wha?"

Flamenco! They pile into a dance studio and meet the maestro and his interpreter and a pack of slim-hipped men in high heels - their flamenco partners. The maestro shows them a couple of simple steps, a forward, back, sweep and step that anyone who never fell over their own Reeboks in a Jazzercise class could master (that would, of course, leave out yours truly, who once said to her own mother "Why did God make Jews smart, I'd have gladly given up a few IQ points for a little natural rhythm." and got slapped for being a wiseass). The maestro's name is Nacho, but he's a different Nacho than the one who didn't want to kiss Jaeda-I-Hate-My-Hair. To which I can only ask: WTF? When did Nacho become a popular Spanish name, or are they fucking with us?

But we are talking about the ANTM hamsters here, so it goes without saying that Amanda is lame, Melrose overthinks it, CariDee hates Melrose and will "puke" if she wins, and Eugena plays the "I GOT natural rhythm, so I have no problems with this one" card. No, she really said it on national TV. Really.

We see them practice with their attractive, slim-hipped and graceful partners. Nothing seems to rub off on the hamsters, but Amanda's shoes rubbed her heels and we are treated to a shot of her picking at her blisters while she voices over something that I couldn't hear because the voice in my head was shrieking too loudly in horror about the visual.

They go home. They practice more. They all interview about how much they hate Melrose. Melrose doesn't care that they hate her (and neither do I, to tell you the truth. I'm pretty much over this bunch. How many more weeks do we have to suffer these fools?).

They go to another (or maybe the same one they shot the Secret commercial in) park and there is a small wooden dance floor, a guitarist and a handful of random people who are never identified sitting at cafe tables where they can watch the dance. The Maestro and his interpreter are there to judge. Again, CariDee hates Melrose a lot. Even when she's dancing, it's still all about how much she hates Melrose. This is the Flamenco of hate. She's not bad.

Eugena is great, if you are grading on a curve, and you have Amanda with her backward feet setting the curve.

Amanda has her feet on backwards today, proving that she really is Gumby, Dammit. But she tries, and she looks sort of pretty.

Melrose loses the beat in the first eight bars, blames it on her partner (as if, bitch -- I mean, who's the pro here?) and then loses it completely when she realizes that she isn't going to win. No, Eugena of the Natural Rhythm wins and gets to pick a friend to share her prize. Proving once more that no matter how many hours of footage they show us of two girls sharing a bed, gossiping about how much they hate Melrose (ahem, CariDee and Eugena) these hamsters are all two or more faced and Eugena picks Amanada to share her prize. CariDee gamely says that she would have shared with Amanda too, because Amanda hasn't won ANYTHING yet.

The prize is clothing from the famous and fabulous Custo Barcelona. As usual, the only one with a clue about who or what Custo is is Melrose. Have we mentioned yet that everybody hates Melrose? Because she's fake. Because she can model. Because she has more than two brain cells still functioning. Because she cooks. Because she keeps winning challenges. Because she tries harder. Because she won't take off the goddam raspberry beret. Although I have to admit, she wears it well.

Since the theme this week is twosies, the photo shoot also involves working in pairs. The girls will be posing in evening gowns, floating in a swimming pool, looking like (and how many times did they say this so we idiot viewers could get the point) aquatic angels. Yeah, whatevs. First up is Melrose and Eugena. Jay and Tyra giggle a little about how "Don't these two hate each other?" Yep. That's a knee-slapper, alright. Jay also rolls his eyes, despairs that Eugena never listens to direction and laments that it was just another typical Eugena shoot. Ugh.

Tyra is on set to coach, and we see in flashback that back in the earlies, say season two or so, she used to go on set and coach more often. I say that she should do this more often. It actually is helpful to the girls, and interesting to see her work it. Because, even though we call her Tyrant and snark about her fading beauty and all, the bitch WAS all that in her day and she does know her shit. Just seeing her in the flashback showing some forgettable prior contestant--one of the early man/girls--pose like Grace Jones was worth watching this whole episode.

The pool is cold. The models bitch. The fan blogs are rampant with suggestions that this was done on purpose to add drama. Allow me to weigh in on that.

I live in Miami. I have a very small, unheated pool. Even though it's 90 degrees during the day in the early spring, there is no way you could swim in my pool. It's just too fucking cold. That was a large pool they were in. Barcelona is many latitudes north of Miami. I don't think there was any producer hanky-panky involved. That said, I used to have swim team practice in an unheated pool in the winter. Colder than a witches tit. After a few dozen laps, we were fine. Until we had to get out of the water and into the cold air. These girls didn't move at all, and they have no body fat. Of course they were cold. However, if it's cold enough for one girl to develop hypothermia, it was probably cold enough for all of them to do so. Did they? Did Amanada the skeleton get hypothermia? No. Did Eugena? No. Of course Melrose didn't and if she did she would have kept her mouth shut and toughed it out. Did CariDee of the perpetual whining and constant neediness have to be pulled out of the pool and coddled? You better believe it. The girl is a hot mess of high maintenence.

And the photos were amazing. I hate when that happens. But they were. This whole season has had some amazing shoots.

Judging. Prizes. Stills from the dance recital. There is a horrifying moment where the camera zooms in on Amanda's backwards foot, the judges all cringe and she shows them, live, in person, how she can twist her foot 180 degrees from front. Eeew. Gumby, dammit. The judges allow as how CariDee is a whiny, needy, high maintenence sort of girl, and let her stay. They allow how everybody hates Melrose, and they aren't too fond of her either, especially that fucking beret, but she does take a fantastic picture every single fucking time, so what can you do except let her stay. Eugena gets to stay because there is no way in hell there could be three white finalists, and she has gotten better, even if her skin hasn't and they haven't paid for a dermatologist this year and she did show natural rhythm and danced OK. And anyway, if they get rid of her, who can CariDee whine to about how much she hates Melrose.

That means that Twin II gets the boot. Don't worry, little twins, you'll have a contract in no time. You two have faces that the camera loves, and more importantly, you have a gimmick. We'll miss you.

Next week, someone wins. The big question is, will anybody care.

The bitches and the hos are in Barthelona (still no sign of Manuel, however) and Jaeda and her tedious hair hysteria are finally gone. Can I get an amen from someone?

It's week seven, and time for Nigel Barker to get to photograph the remaining contestants. The shoot will take place in an actual, still-in-use bullring. Take that, you bleeding heart PETA people. And because the idea of sticking these anorexic and none too graceful bimbos in front of a (possibly) charging bull isn't enough to frighten viewers, the PTB also put the Little Orange Man (aka Mr. Jay) in a full matador suit of lights. I had nightmares.
We see the girls in hair and make up, there is some interviewing about how scary it is to work with the fabulous NigelBarker, and then.....

Have I mentioned that this season's crop of hamsters is particularly clueless? Even more so than thinking all birds are blind clueless? They bitched about their makeovers from no less an eminence than Frederic Fekkai. They bitched about the shoots. They bitched about each other. They complained that Fabio was too old, that they didn't want to kiss people other than their significant others, that they didn't like their makeup, that they didn't like the photoshoots, that they didn't want to have to watch other girls win. Jeez, give it a rest, already.

Well, CariDee steps up her game after last week's gawdawful commercial, alrighty. She steps it right up into NigelBarker's face and suggests that he remove the stick he had up his ass at the last juding.
Yes, she did. And while Nigel managed not to slap her, he did turn around and march off the set, leaving poor Mr. Jay to explain, yet again, why being an asshole to the judges or the guest stars is probably a really bad idea and not likely to help them win the fabulous prizes (contract, cover and spread, money, etc) that they are all clawing each other's eyes out to win.

As you might expect, there is much eye-rolling over the lecture and not a whole lot of grasping of the concepts.

CariDee offers up a half-assed apology to Nigel, and he (way too gently, in my opinion) explains that she really doesn't know him from Adam's housecat, although she might think she does, and that it really isn't proper, polite or professional to speak to him (or anyone) like that.

With that excitement out of the way, the handlers release the bull and the shoot begins. There is jumping, and posing, and an occasional dive behind the safety barrier as the bull has enough of these twits and tries to run them down. (Unfortunately, the bull misses every time. Dammit.)

Eugena doesn't suck for two weeks in a row. In fact, Eugena manages to somehow show something approximating emotion. Or, the judges have just given up and now accept her version of stink eye as emotion.

Amanda blows big chunks, and Michelle tries to pry out of her what she did that was so wrong or so bad so that she can do something different. Amanda sulks and won't say. Michelle goes out and once more rocks the house, even with lace glued over half her face. Don't ask.

CariDee works too hard, and keeps looking a little too Debbie Does Dallas Barcelona for anyone's comfort.

Melrose is perfect, of course and as usual, except that even the judges hate her, so it doesn't count because it wasn't naturally perfect, it was calculatedly perfect. Or something like that.

There is a Tyrant group talk about criticism that amounts to so much filler and she manages to make it about her. Imagine that. I'm only bitching at you 'cause I L-U-V y'all. This comes from the Momma place. Eeeewww. Don't make me think about that, Tyra, 'cause it scares up visions of Mommie Dearest.

At judging, the girls have to opine as to who has the most talent and who has the least. Each of them picks themselves as being the best, except for Michelle, who thinks she isn't the best because she doen't want it the most. Way to buy into the bullshit the judges are feeding you, honey. But aside from themselves, they each name another girl who's maybe as good. Nobody picks Melrose as being the best, because they all hate her, and the same goes for Eugena, too. That leaves Amanda and CariDee as potential contenders and since Amanda is sort of a joke and a cypher, CariDee gets the nod as girl most likely.

Then the judges weigh in on it, and CariDee gets herself reminded about what a tool she was to Nigel, and how in the real world, not a reality world, she would have found herself on the sidewalk without a paycheck or much of a chance to ever work for one again. CariDee cries, and reads a letter she wrote to the judges apologizing for being an idiot and saying how she'll really, really, really, really not be an asshole to people if she gets to be the Covergirl Spokesgirl. It's no Jade "Leftover Lady" but then, what ever could be?

During the judging, Tyra has a brain fart and somehow produces a viable theory about the twins: Michelle only SAYS she doesn't know how much she wants to win, because she knows that this is her sister's dream, and she doesn't want to take it away from Amanda. Huh. Beauty and brains.

So, with that set-up in place, we go to the handing out of the four final photos. And they are: CariDee, getting yet another chance (I think just so they can crush her in the final three), Melrose (because the bitch takes great pix, how can they not?) Eugena (whom Tyrant now sees as a contender) and BIG FINISH: Amanda.

I'm guessing that the part of Tyra's logic that we didn't see went like this: If Michelle could win if her sister wasn't here, keeping her from trying all the way to win, maybe the same holds true for Amanda. Maybe Amanda isn't trying as hard as she can because she sees that Michelle is a natural and she (Amanda) wants to let her sister win.

Whatever. Next week it's Flamenco lessons. God, I just knew they were going to do that to the noble dance. This is going to be ugly.

Yeah! It's acting lessons this week on America's Next Top Model. Nobody in the house seems to give a rat's ass that Anchal, poor poor Anchal has been sent back to Homestead, Florida. I care. Nobody should have to go to Homestead, unless you are looking for a U-Pick tomato field, and those are all being turned into condominiums and housing developments with ridiculous names evocotive of things --like ocean views or mediterranean villages-- that are nowhere near Homestead. Of course, if you did name those places after things you can see in Homestead, you'd have developments with names like "Mount Trashmore Vistas", "Las Casitas des Trabodores Migrantes" and "Hurricane Andrew Decimated Us Farms" and I don't think people would buy them. But I digress.
Yes, acting lessons. Still in the running for becoming America's Next Top Model are Melrose the megalomaniac, CariDee of the loose screws, Eugena the official Black contestant still in game and with none of the dermatological services given to Yaya but no less deserving of same, Jaeda who Will NOT shut up about the hair already, and the twins: Blah and Bland. Who will have a breakdown on the stage? Who will rock the acting class and get a walk on part in another forgettable WC/WB/UPN show? Do any of us really care?

In what has to be one of the most shocking revelations to date, Jaeda cries and sobs and beats her breast over the agony of having had her hair cut. No. Really. CariDee cries and cries and cries that nobody in the house likes her (stole that one from her old friend Anchal) and that she knows what it's like to be sad. She tried to kill herself once. (Not hard enough, obviously. It must have been the heartbreak of psoriasis that led her to it.) Melrose gives it her all and screeches that nobody in the house has any right to say that their photos are better than hers and who the fuck do they think they are to judge her and so on. I have to say, that of all the hamsters, Melrose is the only one who understands that this is a competition, not just a Real Life reality show.

The challenge is to "act" while Tasha (Tyra's friendgirl and acting coach) shouts meaningless direction at them. This will be filmed and pieced together into a silent movie. They will be judged on their movies, and the winner will get the walk on, etc. etc. The silent movie consists of looking out of windows, opening doors, sobbing, answering a phone, eating a lemon and drinking prune juice. Where's Anchal now? She wouldn't have turned her little nose up a lemon and prune juice. Why lemons and prune juice? Why not. You can't actually make the girls eat poison, can you? And if it were something like a lettuce leaf or dry toast, they might actually like it.

CariDee wins. Whee for CariDee. Then there is the big reveal that they are, in fact, going to go to Barcelona*. That's in Spain. In Europe. Just in case you weren't sure. Tyra manages to come out in full flamenco drag.

In Barcelona, the girls are told they will be working with Spanish models, and are much relieved to discover that these are male models. They go to dinner together, where they are instructed to pair off and rehearse a commercial script (that they will be doing the next day... in Castelan, as opposed to High School Spanish, I suppose). None of the male models speak much English, and in what may be bad editing, bad communications, a terrible misunderstanding, or just some guy being an asshole, Jaeda's male model refuses to make out with her saying that he doesn't like it or want to or something. Jaeda takes this to mean, and tells everyone within earshot over the next day and a half that it means, he told her he doesn't like Black girls. That's not what I heard. It's not what the subtitles said, but this is a "reality" show, so your guess is as good as mine regarding the truth of the matter.**

Melrose stays up late, studying her lines. The other girls do or do not, but we don't see them. We do see them all whining (have I mentioned what a fucking WHINY bunch of hamsters they are this season) about how they can't speak Spanish. They can't roll their "r"s. They can't memorize the lines. Jaeda doesn't want to kiss anyone but her boyfriend and anyway this guy is a pig who doesn't like Black women. They are a pathetic bunch this season, really.

The next day, they go for their shoot, and CariDee sucks beyond all suckiness. She is trying to remember her lines by rolling her eyes far back enough in her head to read the script she tucked up under her skull, apparently. It's scary. The twins are ho-hum and hum-ho. Jaeda has a melt down about the kissing and the racism and the fact that she has short hair and the Castelan and the sun and the moon and the stars and everything in the world. She sucks at melting down, too. Eugena doesn't suck as much as she usually does at everything and Melrose rocks the shoot. Are we surprised?

Judging. Tyra says Eugena is now someone to watch. Why? Is she going to suddenly develop talent and good looks? The twins get to stay, because between them there is enough going on to make one good model. CariDee is once more noted as being a bi-polar freakazoid. Melrose is already boring us with how good she is, albeit older than dirt. And that leaves Jaeda. Where does it leave her? On the fucking plane back to the states where she can grow her hair and kiss her boyfriend all she wants and remember the halcyon days when she was the prettiest girl in school. What ever.

Next week: Bull fights?! Better than flamenco, for sure. Will they have to eat squid and eel tapas, too?

* We do not, unfortunately, get a visit from (or to) Manuel.

** This may also be the first week without the writers, but honestly, I saw no difference between the quality of the story arc in this episode and any of the first half of the season. Maybe with the writers we would have a definitive version of what Nacho (no, really, that was the goober's name) said to Jaeda.

Part the first: The Rude Pundit said it best on Wednesday morning when he said: Has anybody in this bed got a cigarette?

To quote the ur-progenitor of all the past six years of madness: It's morning in America.

To quote the American voting public: "Go fuck yourselves, arrogant Republican chicken-hawk constitution rapers."
Part the second: Miz Shoes Reviews: ANTM

We are back in the house with the bitches and the hos, and surprisingly we are still interested despite last week's recap show. To be fair, the high point of the recaps was watching the Queer Eye for the (Nominally) Straight Model Wanna-be. Well, that and the scene of the clinically insane Moooonique playing echo with Melrose. And the scene of the clinically insane Moooonique stomping on Doritos. To which we can only say, what the fuck was wrong with that girl?

Oh, well, we can also say this: How about a Supermodel Season on ANTM, where they bring back all the most delusional and insane B&Hs. A house filled with Camille, and Lisa, Tiffany and her weave, and Jade and Moooonique and Jayla and what's her name who wouldn't cut her hair and just walked out and the blind girl who wasn't blind when she had to leave in the dark of night, and of course Furonda. Can you imagine? And the judges would have to be equally unbalanced: the Divine Miss Dickenson and Naomi Campbell, whose name has finally been uttered by Tyrant. And she didn't hack up a hair ball or anything. Of course, if it was me that she likened to Naomi, I wouldn't have gotten all smiley and thank you. I would have gone back to the house and packed, thinking that next week it would be my head on the block. I'm just saying, that if you remind Tyra of Naomi? That cannot be a good thing.

So, where are we. Oh, yeah, back at the house with the bitches and the hos. Everyone is laying around thinking that there aren't so many of them anymore to get lost in the shuffle of who sucks the worst. There's a little pity party for Brooke, but not much of one. No, the bigger pity party is the one that Anchal is throwing for herself.

Allow me to sum up: Wah, wah, wah. Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I'm going to go off and make myself feel better by eating a few more pounds of bacon and then stress out over getting fatter not thinner and how come nobody in this house will shut up about my weight already, and why don't they like me? Wah, wah, wah, wah. Repeat ad nauseum.

The lesson this week is how to action model, and they are taught by none other than Gabrielle Reese, who really is the shit. See, this is why I used the title I did on this entry. This year I have liked more of the special guests and been more impressed with the photo shoots than any previous season.*

As expected, Caridee, Melrose, Michelle and Jaeda do well. Anchal sucks and doesn't want to wear a bikini and plays beach volley ball exactly as you would expect a girlygirly to play, which is to say, she all but closes her eyes when the ball comes at her and her dive toward it falls about four feet short of actually connecting with anything ball-like.

The next day, they have to do a shoot (and simultaneously shoot themselves using an infra-red shutter release, and frankly I think that's rather more multi-tasking than any of these girls could possibly handle under any circumstance) with some guy** from NASCAR who is allegedly a hottie and a part time model.

Michelle rocks it, and even climbs up on his car, puncturing the hood with her spike heels. Nicely done, tomboy. Nicely done. She totally commits to the shot. Guess who doesn't? Anchal? Anchal? Michelle wins her first challenge and gets to pick three friends. She picks Amanda, Caridee, and Melrose. MELROSE? Melrose whom everyone despises? What up? The four of them get to go on a free shopping spree at some shop run by? owned by? featuring clothes by? the nameless NASCAR guy. To keep the theme going, they have 30 seconds to run from the starting line into the show room***, grab as much shit as they can carry and get back to the line. Whoever has the most stuff wins, and gets to keep not only her shit, but all the other girls' shit, too. Melrose is the only one paying enough attention to figure out the rules, which means that she wins, much to Michelle's chagrin. And since the whole thing is edited for effect, we have no way of knowing if Melrose was a total dick and didn't share the spoils with the girl who took her to the dance.

The other girls, the girls who are not part of the winner's spree, all bitch and moan and piss and whine about having to be there to see the other girls shop. I may be getting soft, but this season's hamsters still strike me as being the most ungrateful little whiners to date. Jaeda and the hair. Anchal and the nobody likes me. All of them and Melrose is a bitch. Wahwahwah, already. To complain that they have to watch the winners have a good time? Please, girl, just be glad you didn't have to massage Jade.

Next, they have the challenge photo: reaching for product while (in-door) sky-diving. OK, all of you who WOULD have liked to see Mr. Jay toss them out from 20 thousand feet, raise your hands. They all suck. Jay offers up this direction to Melrose: Give it to me, girl; make them all hate you more! Amanda manages to look good, Michelle only sort of. Anchal, despite wanting to in-door skydive all her life, and despite being the only girl to manage a decent angle, still sucks. Ditto Eugenia, et. al.

Panel! The in-person contest is totally lame. Using techniques from improv classes I took 30 years ago in college, the judges pull out an action verb and an adjective for each girl to try to do. Swim frighteningly. Dance aggressively. And so on. Anchal, poor poor Anchal is asked to dance aggressively and needless to say, she fails dramatically. She also runs out of the room. Do you want to guess who gets sent home?

The bottom two are Michelle and Anchal. Michelle is a natural, the judges say, but she just doesn't Want. It. ENOUGH. Like, say, her twin sister. Or Caridee, who the judges are finally beginning to figure out is insane. Or Melrose, who is maybe or maybe not a total bitch, but who, like Lisa, despite being older than dirt and abrasively know-it-all, manages every week to turn out a fierce pic.

So who goes home? Anchal, poor, poor, Anchal, who ran out of the judging panel. Bad move, there, sweetie. Next week they finally travel, and if Tyra isn't geographically dyslexic, it looks like they are going to Spain. Please, oh please, do not make them try to learn flamenco.

* Yeah, yeah, yeah. For a fat girl, she don't sweat so very much.

** What? You think I would watch NASCAR? Puh-leeze people. That's driving in circles. Real racing is Grand Prix racing with, you know, straight aways, hair-pins and wiggly bits.

*** Also known as a Grand Prix start. Ahem.

First, a little business announcement: I am moving this blog from Movable Type to Expression Engine. The primary reason is EE's built-in commerce module (I said I was going to start selling my quilts and the RLA's paintings on here, and I mean it.) The second reason is its better spam commenting protection.

Anyway, until I master the new software, we're going to be losing the hot pink shoes, and entries may be sparse. Just so you know.

But never fear, I'll be back with the snark full-on by the Project Runway finale. In the mean time, here's a little something 'bout the bitches and the hos over on ANTM.

ROCK & ROLL!!!! Head bang, hair toss. That would be Megg, happy to see the last of Moooonique, who turned out to be unique in her delusions, her psycho bitchiness and her total lack of focus on the modeling portion of the competition. It's hard to focus on modeling when you are so completely focused on being a psycho bitch, plotting to rub your crusty undies on the girl you like the least.

This week the girls learn to pose like contortionists, helped by an actual contortionist and one of Canada's Next Top Model Judges. S/he claimed to be a top Canadian runway model, but that was one scary individual.

The girls all try to stick their feet in front of their faces from over their shoulders, and other very attractive, edgy, editorial-style poses. Anchal proves to be the most flexible, despite also being the only girl with hips, tits and body fat. This pisses off Melrose, who has, with the departure of Moooonique, stepped up her bitch game and taken the position of alpha-delusional bitch. If AJ is Another Jayla (but without --at least so far-- the loathesome personality and yellow teeth), the Melrose is channeling Lisa, but without the humor the quirky charm and the ability to take a fierce shot.

So. Melrose gives Anchal all sorts of unwanted advice about exercise, body fat, charm, beauty, quantum physics, posing and anything else that runs through her mind and out of her unregulated mouth. Anchal takes it with the sort of grace we have seen her display before: she tells Melrose to shut it.

Dinner with Twiggy. This a very short sequence, because unlike the divine Miss Dickenson, Twiggy doesn't get falling down drunk or abuse the girls. Melrose sucks up, big time. The other girls all glare at her and talk trash about how she's always sucking up.

Next is the challenge, to put into practice what they have learned. They trot off to an art gallery, where they are stuck in some really bad hair and hats, and told to pose on pedestals, to show off 30K worth of jewelry. I don't recall the jewelry at all. Did we even get to see it? (really, really need to stop pounding down those cosmos during the show)

Eugena wins, which means she gets all the jewelry. This makes her very happy, and pisses off Melrose (imagine that). Melrose responds by giving the girls another modeling lesson, a la Tyrant, in which she insists that two identical faces are dramatically different, if only you had the eyes to see.

At the house, there is much trash talking about Anchal, who cries and needs ego-boosting as a result. Her extreme neediness is going to get her tossed soon, you just watch. There is unwatchable drama. There is the visit by Tyrant who tells thinly veiled stories about how mean Naomi Campbell was to her when they were baby models. Melrose sucks up. The other girls glare at her.

The next day's photo shoot is somewhere out in the sort of junkyard waste land that can only be found in proximity to abandoned movie lots. It's a turn-of-the-century (last turn-of-the-century, not the one four years ago... we're going to have to come up with another way to say that soon, or people will start getting confused, you know?) broke down circus theme. The girls are all going to be side-show freaks, so this ain't going to be much of a stretch, is it?

Caridee gets an elephant snout, which means that everyone gets to blow air and pretend their arm is a trunk at least once during the episode, even Tyrant and Miss Jay. Anchal is the giant lady, Jaeda is the strong man, Megg (ROCK & ROLL, head bang, hair toss) is the bearded lady. AJ is a cannibal, Eugena is the bird lady, Melrose (are the art directors mean or what?) gets to be the 100 year old lady face with a rockin' bod. The twins are, shockingly, Siamese twins joined at the head. There are two more girls and I can't remember what they were. That's a bad sign, girls. Brooke and... Brooke and....and the guest judge is the editrix of 17 magazine. She has jet black hair and a chin that puts Jay Leno to shame. She scared me.

AJ rocks the shot, so does Melrose, to everyone's dismay. Ditto Caridee and the twins. Eugena sucks, but not as badly as Megg (ROCK & ROLL, head bang, hair toss). Which is really a shame, because she, Megg, has the biggest, bestest smile ever. She just never smiles on the set. In fact, she doesn't do anything on the set except suck. This is noted by all the judges, and she is mercifully sent home at judging.

And while I'll miss her big old smile, I sooooo will not miss the endless ROCK & ROLL, head bang, hair toss.

It's Week Three with the bitches and the hos over at ANTM, and that means RUNWAY training with the ever-draggier Miss Jay. It was also the week that made me ask more questions (other than, tell me why, again, do I watch this train wreck?) than any previous season. So, why do I watch?
1.) Because it IS a train wreck
2.) Because Miss Jay just keeps getting draggier
3.) Because Mr. Jay just keeps getting orangier and bitchier and I hope he'll finally slap someone
4.) All of the above and

HOW, after seven seasons, can they still find girls who want to be runway models and yet have never learned how to walk in high heels? I'm not talking the Wind In Your Hair, I Am Camille And THIS is My Signature Horse Stomp. I'm talking a pair of stillettos. I'm talking your run of the mill Payless pumps. I mean, people, come on. Shouldn't you somehow be in training if you are going to apply to ANTM? It's not like you don't know the high heels are coming, after all.

But stumble they do, as they first try to walk a tightrope in the (literal) dark and then trot over cobblestone in the figurative dark as they don evening wear, spike heels and Mardi Gras masks the next day.

How sad a statement about me is it that I actually can see some validity to the exercise of a tightrope? I mean, it forces you to put one foot in front of the other (as opposed to the pigeon toes and duck walks of some of the contestants natural gaits), it forces you to have good posture and to look straight ahead instead of at your feet. Why in the dark? Who knows. Good video, maybe.

The next morning, after making some completely idiotic guesses about what the Tyra Mail meant (something about toeing a line and they're all like "OOOH, ooh, I know. It means we have to design our own clothing) they head out to a random location with uneven, but highly photogenic, cobblestones and are asked to walk a straight line (which has been indicated with duct tape). Our guest star walker is Bree from some previous season (frankly they are all starting to blur together for me, and, I think, for the judges and staff). I remember she was particularly annoying, and I don't remember her walk as being anything special, but I guess she was available. Hmmm. Top model, anyone? Anyone?

AJ proves to be the most adept at putting one foot in front of the other, and wins the challenge. The prize is actually very cool: she and two friends get to walk in a charity fashion show in Austin, Texas. But not just any old charity fashion show, the Dennis Quaid (aka ex Mr. Meg Ryan, and former total hottie if you are old enough to remember The Big Easy or the video he did with the always fabulous Miss Bonnie Raitt) old charity fashion show. AJ also proves to be a bitch in a good way when she picks Caridee and Megg (ROCK & ROLL!!!! head bang, hair toss) and not the totally begging to be picked Brooke, who was very unhappy not to get a free fly in to her home town. Meh. They were there for less than 24 hours and all looked like a hot mess when they got back.

Note to Caridee: a straw cowboy hat you buy in the airport is not a good look, ever. Not even a good souvenir. Please, buy the stuffed armadillo, it's much hipper.

Next up is the photo shoot, and the Tyra Mail hint is something about walking the plank. You guessed it, the B&Hs all think they are going to have to dress like pirates.

Do they put stupid in the gumballs and the water? Dress like pirates? After a week of runway practice, they don't think it has anything to do with walking on wood? In point of fact, it has to do with walking on a floating dock over a pool. I really must be doing too many martinis, because, again, I think this was a great shoot. And reality based, except for the part where the dock isn't anchored, and if they don't walk a perfectly straight line down the middle, the dock tips and they can (and Eugena does) fall into the pool. Which was also kind of cool, only I was sorry that it wasn't Moooonique. No. Really. I have seen a runway over a pool, here in Miami a few years ago at a fashion show for White Party Week.

Why wasn't it Moooonique in the drink? Well, because Moooonique was sick. Too sick to do the shoot. Not too sick to figure out ways to disgust the hell out of her fellow hamsters and the viewers, but sick. And if her girlyparts are producing fluids that stink and/or are disgusting enough even to her to be useful as a hate trick, then maybe she has something other than dehydration going on. I'm just saying. I'm also just saying, who the fuck thinks of doing shit like wiping their dirty underwear on someone else? Right. A child of God and a Princess of the Throne. I'm starting to think that Moooonique's momma was talking about the throne found in the back yard in certain areas of the developing world, and inside in houses with running water, if you get my drift.

Anyway, there is much sturm und drang, there is some amazingly good photography, there is a lame "walk with a bowl of fruit on your head" challenge in front of the judges (and AJ nails it again, and is starting to grow on me) and then, in judging there is the absolutely best thing ever on ANTM. I mean better than Darth Jader getting told she didn't know shit, better than the Italian designer asking Camille what the fuck was she walking like that for? Better than anything ever, and if I can't find it and download it off of YouTube, I just don't know what I'm going to do.

I'm talking about so amazing and funny it was worth putting up with Megg (ROCK & ROLL!!!!! head bang, hair toss). I'm talking about the impromptu gospel choir of Miss Jay, Tyra, Nigel and, yes, Miss Twiggy, as they sing about Moooonique don't want to be here no mo' no mo'. It was jaw-droppingly hilarious.

For the record, long after she was a super model, Miss Twiggy was a song and dance star and I saw her on Broadway starring with Tommy Tune in something involving a lot of tap dancing, and she was good. Held her own with T. Tune, even. The Boyfriend? Whatever.

The bottom line? Moooonique and her nasty juices got sent home, much to the relief of the bitches, the hos and all of us at home. At least Lisa took great shots, and had the "decency" to pee in a diaper and did not then stuff it in someone's bed.

Good times, people. Good times. Next week? I don't remember, but I'm sure it will include more stupidity.

At the Casita de Zapatos we are down with the bitches and the hos. It was all B & H, all the time, last night, what with new epis of both America's Next Top Model and Project Runway. I stayed awake for both, but would somebody please remind me why?

Last night was Make Overs on ANTM. The B&Hs were driven in their embarrassingly blinged out stretch ... uh... stretch... white limo* to some nondescript diner for brekkies with the Two Jays**. In what has become something of a tradition, one of the girls announces that you can just shave her head, because she has great hair, it grows out fast, and she don't care. Right. They give her a Halle Berry muy short boy cut, and she cries and cries and cries and hates it and fights it and whines and cries... and like that.

In fact, pretty much all of the bitches bitch about their make overs, to the point where the bitchiest of them all (that would be Little Orange Man, Mr. Jay) walks off the set, hands to Jesus in despair. But not before he lectures the girls on manners and gratitude. Which lecture, we will soon see, went in any number of ears and drifted out the others.

Kim2.0 got the boy cut and bleach job. Ashram or what ever her name is, got her hair line lifted and her hair layered. She did not complain, even when getting her forehead hair yanked out in clumps. Jaeda of the she-nis, did complain, see above. AJ (aka whoever- that-evil-corn-toothed-bitch-was-two-seasons-ago-lite) got the Linda Evangalista longer boy cut. The twins got two different shades of red. Michelle got waves, Amanda did not.

And Oh. My. God. I can't believe I've already memorized their names. I am pathetic.

Uh, yeah... the blonde with the chin went brunette. Melrose went blond (but not without a panic attack or three, and dry heaves and crying fits and whatever. Eugenia (I don't find you likeable) got one of Tyra's old wigs. Meggggg the Annoying Rocker chick got more hair to toss.*** Some other hamsters got some other looks. And then the diva of all divas, the most unlikeable of the unlikeables, the Camille of Season Seven, Miss Thing Her Own Self, Moonique, got extensions. To get them, they had to take her old ones out. This caused Much Distress. For everyone. It was about then that Mr. Jay had had enough and pointed out to Mooo-nique that she was dissing the hair designer, who is someone that people hock their houses to have do their hair, she was dissing him, dissing Tyrant, dissing the universe, and looking like ass while doing it.

They had a very cool challenge that involved Cover Girl Make Up (imagine that) and also riding an elevator, changing clothes, riding an elevator, and meeting Queen Latifah and her personal make up artist. If you missed the elevator, you were automatically eliminated from the challenge. One girl missed the lift on the first floor. Oops. Mooo-nique missed it later, and she was peeeesed. All the other hamsters allowed as how they'd be avoiding her like the plague as a result.

Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. She locked herself in the phone booth for three hours, and talked to the dial tone for at least one hour. Ashram was the only girl with the cajones (she's from Homestead, people) to walk in and hang up the phone. And also, judging by the beeped out dialog, they both cursed like longshoremen. Good for them. Didn't help, because that was done after the second hour, and Mooo-nique went on talking to the dial tone for another hour and a half after that.

Then they did Hair Wars shots. I have to say, that this season's shoots are the best yet. They actually look like real photo shoots, and are truly challenging. Can you wear the hair, or will the hair wear you was the challenge to the girls. Melrose redeemed herself from last week. Mooo-nique had mean little squinty eyes. Eugene wouldn't take direction. The twins rocked it. Jaeda, not so much. Annoying Rocker Chick, meh. Ashram, great. Kim2.0? Went home.

And that was that, except for some random heinous behavior from Mooo-nique. The two girls most likely to come to blows this season? Mooo-nique and Melrose.

*Escalade? Hummer? Who knows, who cares.

** There's a chain of really good delis in SoFla by the name of TooJays. Mmmm. Now I want chopped liver.

*** Headbanger's Ball. I bet she l-u-v-s Poison.

Well, it was Wednesday night, so it was fuzzy bathrobe and bunny slippers night at the Casita des Zapatos. Bravo is torturing the Project Runway fans with a week of repeats, so the new CW (what ever that stands for, but I don't think it's Country/Western) came to the rescue with the two-hour premier of season 7 of America's Next Top Model. Sigh. Pour the cosmos, bitches.

I'm not going to dis the show and say that it's gotten formulaic, or anything (much) but last night we found out that there were more girls with sorrowful backstories than not. There's the girl who was in a plane crash when she was nine, and her mother's dead body kept her warm enough to survive. WHOA, doggies. Issues? A couple? You think, maybe?

There's the girl who is darker skinned than all of her other family members, and so she's the outcast for being the most colored person of color. Miss Jay, Tyra and Nigel all got jiggy wit dat. Ohhhh, I'm sorry. Slap me now. But they did. The only person on the panel who looked as puzzled as I felt was Twiggy.

There's another girl who is a cervical cancer survivor, and another one whose momma dropped her off at Child Protective Services (after they left the homeless shelter) and never came back for her. She, in her own words, went from homeless to homecoming queen. She was the Very First Person of Color to be homecoming queen in her hometown. Now, I don't remember where she was from, but children, the first Black homecoming queen in my hometown was voted in only five years after desegregation. I'm just saying. It's been a long, long, long, long time since I was in high school. I'm just sayin'.

In the role first made popular by Camille, and then improved upon by Eva-The-Diva, and continued in every season after, that of the de riguer Black Bitch, we have some ho who pretended to pee on another girl's bed, just so she could "mark [her] territory." That was after someone else had claimed the bed, mind you. Same girl also refused to take less than an hour-long shower, clean up after herself or in any other way be a nice roomie. I'm betting she gets the boot sooner than later, because Mr. Jay (who, was it just the settings on my teevee, or is he a little less orange this season?) will NOT stand for that sort of behavior on HIS sets. Hmmmph. Flounce.

Speaking of flouncing, those nasty, nasty Aswirl Twins were back, and I hope only for a two minute guest shot. Yeah... back to the bitches.

We had the stripper who wasn't a stripper, she was an ENTERTAINER, beeyotch. There's the prettiest girl in school, the delusional dog, the rocker chick. We had the mousy little good Christian girl who wouldn't do the nude shot because nobody should ever get to see her woman parts except her husband and God, and that includes herself (as one of the other hos so rightly noted). And we have our first set of twins, and as much as they have babboon noses, they turned it out in front of the cameras, and I'm betting that one or both get into the finals. The fact that they are twins confused some of the other girls who couldn't quite figure out if that made the twins one or two contestants. There's the mommy whose idea of the all-American family goes like this: I'm a model, I have two kids and my husband is in the military...in Iraq. There's an Indian girl from down the highway from me... Homestead, Florida. Indians in Homestead? Hondurans, Mexicans, Guatamalans, si... but a sub-continent Indian? How the hell did HER family end up in Homestead? And where does she eat when she's in town?

So. First we get snaps on the runway, the LAX runway. Then we do the interviews. Then we had the first rough cut and the next batch of girls get taken to an LA rooftop for some nude shots. That separates some of the chaff, but not all. Next up in our whirlwind first epi, the girls get dragged off to some warehouse or another for a fashion show. They get to see some boy models (any one of whom is prettier than any one of the girls) strut down the cat walk, then they have to take the outfits off the boys, fem them up a little and restrut. Melrose (long in the tooth) wins by a mile. This will come back to bite her in the ass. Note to next season girls: don't win in the early contests.

Short interlude where we see the cool new house, and discover that in two days these young things can make a show house look like a frat house at the end of the semester. What fucking pigs! Who raised these girls? Right. Dead mother, absent mother, and a minister.

Since we don't have Janice to kick (the girls) around any more, Tyra tried to chanel the Divine Miss D. herownself to show the girls how a real alcoholic psycho bitch diva behaves on set. Then, in what Mr. Jay claimed to be The Most Controversial Shoot on ANTM EVAH!!! (would that be even more controversial than, say... the super-hero alien shot? Or the girls on an elephant? That was pretty edgy and controversial, wasn't it?) the girls all get to be model stereotypes.

This is actually a very cool concept, and the baboon-nosed twins nail their shots of anorexic an bulemic models. The resident psycho bitch gets to be Naomi Campbell and throw a cell phone at an assistant, but can't pull it off. Go figure. Squinty-eyed rocker girl gets to be Gia (yeah, they were saying Janice, on set, I'm betting.) and cop a nod with a bottle of Jack in her hand. There's a dumb blonde (Paris?) and the girl who won't get out of bed for less than 10K, the fabulous bitch with the tiny dog and the entourage (who was made up to look like Eva the Diva, IMHO) and a handful of others too boring to remember.

Melrose finds herself in the bottom two, the other girl gets sent home. I don't remember who won. Bulemic twin? Next week, MAKEOVERS!!!!! (and, more importantly, a new episode of Project Runway.)

PS: Where's POTES over at Television Without Pity? This new guy/girl can't hold a candle to Potesie... TWOP? Call me.

You all know how much I love me some America's Next Top Model. And you know that I, and about the entire viewing audience this season loathed Jade. Or J'Hayde. Or Darth Jader. Whatever.

Imagine my delight this morning when I opened Savage Chickens. Click it and howl.

Where do I begin?

With the US government spying illegally on its citizens and then trying to spin it like "O, we are only collecting data on who you call, we aren't actually listening in on your conversations" but in the next breath rationalizing this illegal, unconstitutional, covert and terrifying activity by saying that not only will it help them capture terrorists (yeah. right. and I have a bridge in Brooklyn that I can let go cheap) but also child pornographers. Uh, if you aren't listening in, how would just a phone number let you know you are on the path of pedophiles? Just asking.

The whole thing is so disingenuous it makes me want to heave more than I usually do when I look at that smirking chimp and his band of devil-may-care draft dodgers, thieves, criminals, cold-hearted bastards and jack-booted thugs.
This particular cabal of evil doers (aka the Bush White House) is so fluent in double speak that George Orwell his own self could use them to write the play book for Big Brother.

I am not afraid. I will not be made to be afraid.

I will take this fight to the polling booth and despite the best efforts of the corporations who have bought this administration, I will attempt to vote all of them out of office. I will write my spineless, Republican hand-puppet representatives and demand impeachment, or at least a dog and pony show of an investigation.

While I'm ranting about the ugly and the evil, can I just say, once and for all, that I am sick and tired and disgusted with you people? You people (women) who seem to think that MetroRail is the appropriate place to pluck your facial hair and apply your pancake makeup? Look. It is really very simple.

If you need to wear makeup to appear in public, it should be applied BEFORE you appear in public. And let me define public, since that also appears to be a concept far beyond your limited capacity: Public is anyplace outside of your house. That means your car, too. Any form of transportation referred to as PUBLIC, i.e.: buses, trains, els, elevators, trams, trollies, jitneys, taxis, tuk-tuks, car-pools, camel caravans, rikshaws. All of these and anything I may have left out, are public transportation and you should shut the fuck up on your damned cell phones, stop plucking your chin hair, and curling your eye lashes and applying foundation.

And still I'm not done with the ugly and the evil, because I haven't even started on ANTM and Darth Jader. She has to be the ugliest, nastiest, stupidest, annoyingest, delusionalest (that's Darth Jader-speak for most delusioned) hamster this series has ever foisted on us. And that is saying something, since we have had girls with she-nises and Adam's apples, girls who thought all birds are blind, Camille and Ya-Ya.

She looks like a pointy, wet, pissed-off cat and acts much like one, only without the endearing quality of being cute and fuzzy when dried off. Even when the judges say they see her being soft, I only see sallow skin, squinty mean eys and an infinite abyss of stupidity.

Yet, still, I watch. I want to see her fall. I want to see her fail. I want her humbled and brought down. Is that so very wrong?

And Mollie Sue goes home. Which of the bitches on ANTM is on crack, other than that UberSkank, Jade. I'm amazed that she doesn't spell it some other way, you know, with extra letters like "y" or a silent "h".

She is beyond annoying, beyond evil, beyond all pointy like a wet Siamese cat.

She is pure ugly on a plate.

I have an idea, or maybe a nightmare. She and Santino should mate. I don't know what they'd produce, but I have no doubt that it would kill them both while they slept. Not that there would be anything wrong with that.

I have a number of things on my mind today which I would like to share.

1. Again with the back pack strapped to the chest. No. No. No. Also, to quote the lovely POTES, if it's cold enough for a zipped-up, mock turtle neck jacket, it's probably cold enough for pants.



2. When entering a train, or bus, or other transportation device, one should move on to the center of the car, or take a seat or do something other than STAND IN THE FUCKING DOORWAY! Christ, people, it is not rocket science. It's barely more than breathing. Diagram to follow.

3. ANTM. Jade wins a challenge by kissing a giant Madagascar Hissing Cockroach. Is anyone surprised? It looks like her brother. She also tortured the gently bewildered and speech impedimented Gina with the roach. And you guys got your knickers in a twist when Lisa peed in a diaper? Head shaking is all I can do.

4. Finally, who wants a t-shirt or a coffee mug? I'm thinking, what with my ability to master new things (Pandemonium Midnight Uploading podcasts are available on i-tunes, remember?) that maybe what this site needs is a Cafe Press offering.

I watched my two shows last night, and what a snooze fest THAT was.

First of all, the ANTM "Where Are They Now?" proved to me that even the most successful of the also-rans were eminently forgettable. I saw Yaya's Radio Shack ad at Christmas time, and didn't recognize her, but found the ad and that character annoying. Hmmmm. Maybe I recognized her on a cellular level?

Ann in black hair? Ick. Yoanna's too-short bangs? Also ick. Tocarra? Still cool. Kim? Still annoying. Lisa? Still fabulous.
Then we moved over to the penultimate Project Runway episode, and, ugh. All Santino, all the time, all redemption arc. I don't want that useless egomaniac redeemed, I want him to suffer for his hubris. Still, despite all Santino's protestations of really being a nice guy, and learning not to talk trash, and how he's just a scared, insecure little gay boy underneath all his bullying, there he was, thirty minutes later, talking shit about Dan and Chloe. (Her collection looked like a sofa... if Dan couldn't see what was wrong with his clothes, there was something wrong with Dan...)

I'm hoping that Tim's underwhelmed-ness regarding Daniel was merely a ploy to throw us off the scent of his winning, and not a big ass sign that Satano is going to go home with the gold. That would just be awful.

The final challenge of having to make one last piece seemed to be a cruel ploy to crush all of the designers souls, once and for all. And what was up with having to choose a dogsbody to work with out of the discarded designers? And why Diana?

I was thrilled to see Daniel snatch Nick away from Santino. (Again with the eye-rolling, Santino. Enough, already.) Tell me that he didn't choose Nick exactly for that reason: just so Santino couldn't. But I think that someone (ahem, Chloe) should have used Daniel Franco's tailoring skills.

Another question: did this happen before or after the taping of the reunion show? Why did they all diss Kara? And since Kara was the decoy, did she have to make a 13th garment, too?

BTW, I totally agreed with Tim about the "shop class" quality of Daniel V's purse handles. Yet another ick.

Still, all things being equal, I loved Daniel's collection (except for those wonky little tab thingies in the middle of the chests... which I suppose are his military details... whatever.) Santino's one starburst-pleated dress was beautiful (and no, my tongue did not shrivel up when I said that). And the comment that Chloe's line was very Balenciaga made me hate those enormo-sleeves just a little bit less.

So. Who will win? I'm still hoping for Daniel V, but getting worried that it may be Santino after all.

Ick.

OK. Item the first. Many thanks to RJ for stepping in to be my emergency backup during my surgery. I was rescheduled (without my knowledge) for 3 hours earlier than I had planned, so the RLA was supposed to be in class, and couldn't get a substitute.

If you ever have to sit around and wait for surgery, RJ is your girl. We were having quite the yocks before they came in to sedate me. After? Maybe we continued to have the yocks, but you can't prove it by me.

My reaction to sedation is this: Oh! I think I feel it startizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Part of the cocktail they gave me was sodium pentathol, known to all movie watchers as "truth serum". What truths did I reveal under the influence of this powerful drug? That I wanted to go out for sushi.
This actually came as quite a shock to me, because I quit eating the raw stuff after my housekeeper's son developed brain worms as a result of sushi. Now, I'd like to think, in my effete snobish way, that we eat at different sushi bars, but a brain worm is a brain worm is a brain worm (take THAT Gertrude Stein) and so I quit. Cold tuna, if you will.

Another thing that RJ and I found infinitly amusing was that in addition to drawing a big blue circle on my tushie where he thought the lump would be found, the surgeon felt it necessary to also write "YES" in big indelible letters next to said circle.

I believe that this is testament to the fineness of my white ass, but RJ says that it's just an extra precaution against cutting the wrong side. Like they all kept saying to each other "not the tatoo side" but I suppose that YES and a big blue circle help. Still, it's my fine white ass, and it's indelible ink, and so who is to debate with me about why the YES is there.

Item the second is for my readers in California. Larry Cafiero, a fellow traveler from my salad days is running for office in your state. Here is his website. Vote for him. He's really a fine fellow, loves children and cats, and has more common sense in his little finger than most politicians have in their entire bodies. This, of course, bodes badly for his career in politics.

Item the third. Are they fucking kidding me?

Item the last in this list. Tonight is the reunion show for Project Runway. Oh, the blissful bitchiness of the dishing. Can my heart take it?