I am transfixed by the Stepford Veep and her unwed, pregnant teenage daughter. It’s a train wreck that I can’t stop myself from watching, and of course, commenting on. Cynically commenting upon. And for all the people telling us that the pregnant daughter is a non-issue, to me, it is very much an issue, and only because she represents the failure of one of Palin’s firmest beliefs: that sex education should be abstinence education and no other method or mention of birth control should be addressed. That’s the sex ed Bristol had, and in the words of the LOL cat: Irony? She haz it.

So now, despite historic interviews and position papers and every other damned thing, we, the voting public are asked to accept that there was choice and free will involved in both Sarah and Bristol’s decisions to keep their babies: Sarah’s late-life Down Syndrome Trig, and the TBD spawn of the underage and unwed teen. The lack of logic in the arguments presented would give my old logic professor (Howard Pospesel) apoplectic convulsions.

A. I do not believe in choice (regarding abortion), to the point where, if my under-age daughter were raped, I would demand she carry the child full term.

B. My child is pregnant.

C. She had a choice, and made the decision to keep her baby and marry the father.

If I remember Dr. Pospesel’s class correctly, this is a fallacious argument, because point A states that there IS no choice. Therefore, point C can only be to carry the child. Unless they are saying that the choice portion was the intent to wed.

And just for good measure, the age of consent in Alaska is 16, which means that there is no cause to charge the baby daddy (who is over 18) with statutory rape.

But let’s just throw a few more links on the bonfire, shall we?

Book Banning? She’s all for it.

The oil boondoggle that’s lining Alaska’s pockets.

Maverick or Neophyte?

Privacy, Pregnancy and the Double Standard

The baby daddy.

RJ is particularly on point today, too.

And no evil, bitchy, inappropriate mud-slinging would be complete without the Rude Pundit’s take on the whole mess.

Sarah Fucking Palin?

That’s all you got? Are you kidding me? A creationist fundie with a suspect fifth child? Who defers to her husband, the oil-man?

Do you really think women are so stupid as to confuse this prom queen with Hillary Clinton? How utterly demeaning and dismissive to women is it to think that we’d not notice the basic differences between this twit and Hil? Thinks birth control is the same thing as abortion? Thinks that drilling in the Arctic Wilderness is a cure for oil dependency? Thinks unlimited and unending war in Iraq is a good thing? Thinks that being a hunter is the same thing as being an environmentalist? Thinks that

intelligent design should be taught in school?

Yeah, dead ringer for our Hillary, there. What? Do the Republicans honestly think that women will be eager to vote for anything with ovaries and a vagina? Like that’s the be-all and end-all of our concerns?

And good luck with the links. This woman’s web trail is getting scrubbed on a minute-by-minute basis.

ETA: More on Palin’s judgement/circumstances of her last child’s birth.

Well, fresh off the drag show, what could the Powers That Be at Project Runway give us that could be any better or even as good? We’ll find out soon enough. Open on a yellow/green Manhattan newsstand, with a shot of Elle Magazine. One of the Olsen trolls is on the cover. Yawn.

Kenley interviews that Daniel2.0 was her bestest friend among the designers and she’s sorry that he’s gone. Keith interviews that he doesn’t know how to behave being in the bottom two. (Miz Shoes says that Keith could have ended that sentence five words earlier.) Keith wants to change the way the world dresses. Keith has delusions.

We quickly get to model selection and Straight Joe wants to keep peace in the model world, so he keeps Carpacio/Topogigio. Jermaine and Elana go home. Heidi tells the designers that they will find their next challenge on the roof of 142 W. 31st Street. The designers sit there and wait for more information. What they get is a Teutonic MACH SCHNELL!!!

As they walk, the designers speculate. What crazy superstar will they be designing for? What crazy rooftop style? says Oompa-Loompa-Licious. (Hint to RJ, you don’t have to type his name every time, just do a copy and paste. That’s what I do.) Korto thinks that maybe they are going to Mariah’s penthouse. On West 31st? What crack are you smokin’, woman? The building turns out to be a parking garage, and this leads the designers to think that they are going to a party. I know that’s what I think every time I walk into a parking garage. I think PAR-TAY!!!! Or not. I’m just sayin’. The big-ass industrial elevator scares them all. What a fucking bunch of panty waists this group is. God. You know who wouldn’t have been scared by an elevator? My dearest, darling friend Paulie of the House of Gallofornia, that’s who. And no, I’m not letting it go.

Up on the roof is a line of Saturn hybrids, Tim Gunn and Chris Webb, who is introduced as the lead color designer for Saturn. They plug the Vue and tell us that 85% of the materials used in manufacturing the vehicle are recyclable, and since the designers all sucked using unconventional materials from Gristede’s in the first challenge, they are getting a do-over this week, using the raw materials from Saturn. They have 4 minutes and a push cart to do their best to strip the materials they can use from the cars. And as interesting as it would have been to give them crowbars and torches, all they have to do is open the cars and piles of raw material falls out. They scramble, except for Stella, who monotones nasally that it is embarrassing to rush around, and she isn’t moving. She is also less than inspired by ALL THE FUCKING PILES OF LEATHER. God. The woman is just never satisfied. All she wants to work in is leather, so when she gets it, she complains.

Terri is having a panic attack, and Kenley is bitching that these are things you make cars from, not clothes. No, I don’t know what her point was. Oompa-Loompa-Licious is snatching up seat belts. Straight Joe reminds us that he is from the Motor City and that he is straight, and that he has immunity and therefore, he is loving this challenge.

Jerell has taken a pile of dashboard decals, the cutouts that detail the intrument panels. Baroo? Suede uses the “word” whackadoodle, but does not refer to himself in the third person. It’s still not helping with his curb appeal, if you know what I mean. Leanne admits that she is clueless.

Back at Parsons, Tim tells the designers that they have till midnight and the winner will get immunity. Tim reminds them that the key to winning this challenge will be innovation. He exhorts them to have fun. Korto is clueless. Straight Joe is still into it, and has a carburetor. That’s … interesting. Keith continues to bitch and moan about how the judges have no appreciation of his fabulous designs and that he’s getting tired of sending out this magnificent work only to have the judges ignore him. Keith considers himself to be a pretty special snowflake, doesn’t he?

Suede goes back to referring to himself in the third person AND uses “whackadoodle” AGAIN. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Suede. Stella pouts and decides that using leather would be too predictable for her, so rather than do something fabulous and amazing and true to her vision and skill set, she decides to make something “pretty”. Judging by how she dresses herself and how she works her hair and makeup, I’m guessing that Stella and I would have very different definitions of pretty. We’ll see. Suede talks about some more dead relatives. Getting as old as the use of whackadoodle, there, sport.

Keith has stopped whining long enough to design a pencil skirt, although I would debate whether design is the right word when speaking of a straight skirt. I mean, it’s a straight skirt. And tight. That’s sort of the definition of a pencil skirt. There is nothing to design. Cut a pattern for, drape, maybe. Design? Not so much.

Korto is weaving the seatbelts into a heavy fabric, and she is going for an everyday coat. Kenley is sneering at the other designers who are using seatbelts. She claims that she is being innovative because she’s using a magic marker to draw a zebra pattern on the air-filters that she’s using to make a peplum. Didn’t Kelli do that with bleach and coffee stains on the vacuum cleaner bags in the first challenge? Oh. Sorry. Persistence of memory is a bitch. Sort of like Kenley.

The industrial sewing machines in the Parson’s workroom are having a hard time on the truly industrial materials, and tension is going off, threads and needles are breaking. Oompa-Loompa-Licious decides to sew by hand. He’s making a princess line dress out of the seatbelts. It actually looks like a dress. And it actually looks sort of nice. Huh? Does Oompa-Loompa-Licious actually have some design chops?

Jerell says that the other designers are having problems, but he’s just whistlin’ Dixie. I’ll let RJ speak to that issue.

Stella has ripped open a headrest cover and is calling it a helmet. She says she’s going to use it on her model for the runway. She says it looks like Planet of the Apes. She sticks it on Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ head, and he does a pretty good Darth Vader “LUKE, I’m your father.” Despite myself, I find him cute and funny at that moment. The Number Three Surrogate Daughter and the RLA both rush to slap me back to consciousness.

Tim comes in with the models for fitting, and tells Kenley that her model, Shannone, had to drop out, and that she’s being replaced by Germaine. Kenley pitches a fit, and whines at a level that would do Keith proud. Kenley claims that Shannone bailed on her and Jerell (it’s off camera, but I think it was Jerell) says that Shannone probably got a real job that paid real money, and that it is hard to be a model in New York. Kenley sympathizes with that and says she was sorry for being such a self-involved bitch. Actually, she doesn’t. She says that this is all about her and she has a right to be pissed if she wants to be.

Tim does his turn around the workroom. Oompa-Loompa-Licious says “Hi, Timlicious” and Tim looks like he has a toothache. He is as surprised at what Oompa-Loompa-Licious is working on as we are. Jerell has taken the car seat leather, but turned it inside out so that he’s working with the rough, suede side. He’s using the decals and lining them with black leather. It’s sharp.

Korto has made a swing coat. Tim tells her not to loose the 60’s mod sophistication. Leanne’s is well-executed and has a very daring silhouette. She has taken bits of either seat belt, or fabric seat cover, made tiny swatches and frayed the edges to create an eyelash fringe. It’s pretty amazing (ahem, KEITH). Speaking of whom, Tim visits him next and is bored senseless by Keith’s whining and blahblahblah, clean look. Tim escapes the workroom with a final word of advice: “Don’t lose your trajectory.”

Terri interviews that Korto’s sleeves are awful and that Korto’s work is awful and that it looks like some horror movie or another and cracks herself up to the point that she’s rolling around on the ground. Jerell says that “Terri’s got two faces and four patterns. Don’t trust the bitch.” Well said, Jerell. And, sting. In the sewing room, Keith is being a pissy little bitch to all and sundry, enough so that the other designers opine about his ability to handle stress. And it’s night. Cut to the Atlas/Gotham, where ever the hell they live these days.

Stella is talking to her boyfriend Ratbones. Rat. Bones. Yeah, I know. I can’t. I’m just gonna let that one lie where Jesus flung it.

Morning of the show, and Korto says that if she’s called in the bottom three, then it is on. She is not going without a fight. But with whom would she fight? Would she pull off Terri’s rat weave? Would she kick Heidi in the knee? Slap the orange right off of Michael Kors? Have a throw down with NinaGarcia? This could be fun, except that I like Korto and don’t want her gone, just yet.

Tim comes to the work room and tells the designers to work like there’s no tomorrow, because you know, for one of you there won’t be. Nice. I think that Tim’s over this group, too. Keith’s got some major fitting issues with his model and tells her not to sit down. Then she heads off to hair and make up. And comes back with ten minutes to show time. She has, in fact, had to sit for the stylists, and Keith just unravels. I ask her to do one simple thing, he shrieks, and she can’t even do that. Well, you know, if you are 6 feet tall, it is a little difficult for someone to do your hair if you are standing up. Think about it, do-rag boy. Stella is back in her Dr. Suess on bad acid leggings. Please make them go away. 

The Bravo poll is who would you rather hop in the back seat with: Oompa-Loompa-Licious or Kenley or all of the designers. The consensus in the Casita de Zapattos is that there should be a none of the above, or death option. The smug, naked bitch is still naked and advertising BlueFly. Come on, buy something already, skank.

On the runway, Heidi is wearing a short, shiny and tight little dress by Rami of the Heavenly Arms. We have two guest judges today. Sitting in for NinaGarcia is my old favorite Laura Bennett, who is still fabulous, and who was robbed. That grey and chartreuse gown still needs to be hanging in my closet. Our other guest judge is Hollywood stylist to the stars Rachel Zoe, the woman who single-handedly made most startlets orange and carry a handbag larger than Tom Cruise.

Jerell’s look starts the show, and the hair and makeup folks have taken his futuristic look and run with it. She looks amazing, and the cutouts and decals and suede have combined into a nice little dress, very modern and wearable.

Keith’s halter top and pencil skirt don’t even deserve this many pixels. Terri has made…wait for it…. tight pants! (that would be pattern number 1, eh, Jerell). Kenley’s design is a black leather halter top with an air filter peplum over a pencil skirt. Leanne has made a bubble skirt? A skirt with hip bustles? A very daring and exaggerated shape, and a tight bustiere with that seatbelt fringe along the sweetheart neckline. HOTT!

Suede has made a bustiere from the floor mats, and a short, silver fringed skirt from the sun shields. It actually looks like something Keith would have made, if Keith could make an actual fringe as opposed to swatches. Korto’s coat looks amazing. I don’t know how much steam she used to make it flexible, but it looks like a million dollars walking down the catwalk. Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ dress fits like crap, which is unfortunate, because for the first time in this competition I can actually see what he was attempting. He’s shattered a rear-view mirror to make spangles, which he’s applied to the neckline. The princess seaming could have been attractive and stylish, but it doesn’t fit the model, and as she moves, the gaps and fitting issues move with her, now gaping in the arm pit, now bunching at the breast. Straight Joe has produced a sort of motocross dress and done some color blocking. He’s the only one to have found red leather, and he’s used the part that says “VUE” as a sort of breastplate. It’s a very clean, very automotive look, and I can absolutely see this at an auto show, on the salesgirls as they stand on a revolving platform pitching the new model year offerings. I was right. Stella and I do not have the same idea as to what constitutes pretty. She’s made a mummy wrap/pencil skirt and topped it with one of her usual racer-back leather vests. Ho-fucking-hum.

Terri, Suede, Straight Joe and Kenley leave the runway, safe for another week. Oompa-Loompa-Licious, Jerell, Keith, Korto and Leanne wait for the axe to fall on one of their dreams.

Jerell’s futuristic look with the resin molding is hailed by Rachel Zoe for his tailoring, and his styling is loved by Michael. Heidi thinks it’s wearable.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious is called out for his fit by Laura (who would know about fit and evening gowns). Michale hates the carwash hem, and Rachel says the whole thing is the wrong length.

Korto is lucky that Rachel, Laura and Heidi don’t rush the stage and engage in a little hair-pulling over who gets to take the coat home. They all want it. Even Michael says that it has great, restrained drama. And it does. And not to be a nay-sayer here, but it also has the same damn, oversized silhouette that she always shows. Which is nice the first four or five times you see it, but is starting to get stale.

Leanne has the judges in fits over her innovative and risky look. Words like “chic” “interesting” “FAB-ulous” “well-crafted” and “beautiful” are tossed at her like confetti. Remember Thing 2 or Thing 1 who used to say that she was all Holly Golightly meets Salvador Dali? and who was as boring as dry dust? Yeah. Bitch. THIS is what goes with that description, not the crap you were putting out.

And then there’s

Keith. He starts by saying that he didn’t want it to look like car parts. Rachel notices that there is a big hole in the back of the skirt. Was it intentional or bad sewing? Laura says that there doesn’t seem to be a concept anywhere. Keith says “You should have seen my other designs.” Laura gapes, smiles politely, if somewhat frozenly, and says “Excuse me?” Keith takes the opportunity to rage against the machine. He’s been sending amazing work down the runway, and nobody has appreciated it. His model sat down. Michael Kors is a mean old meany. “There’s criticism and then there’s insult,” Keith grouses, “and last week I was told my dress looked like a chicken.” Michael tells him to put on his big-boy panties and sack up, ho.

The poll results are back and a full 37% of voters want to hop in the back seat with all of the designers. Presumably because they can stuff them into the trunk if they fold down the seat? The judges deliberate and Heidi, Rachel and Laura do a quick rock, paper, scissors to determine who gets Korto’s trench coat. Then the producers tell them that it’s the property of the show and to get on with the voting, already.

Jerell is in. Korto is in. Oompa-Loompa-Licious is in. Leanne is the winner. Pretty good for the drab little girl who said she was clueless as she looked at her materials. This leaves Stella and Keith in the bottom two. Stella’s look was boring, too simple and disconnected. Keith had a chance to be innovative, but he was boring. And he blamed the model and the judges for his failure. And he was a pissy little bitch. Keith is sent back to Salt Lake City. Keith cries like a baby and says that his biggest disappointment (other than going back to SLC) is that he’s being sent home for something that wasn’t even his vision. Really? Did SATAN put it in your head? Did SATAN make you sew that crap? No? Then I guess it was yours. Own it, you big baby. And p.s., loose the bandana head bands. Really. You’ll thank me one day.

Next week, legendary designer Diane Von Furstenberg, the woman who invented the wrap dress, comes to torture the designers. It could be fun. Or it could be as exciting as a freaking wrap dress.

I’m a day late and a dollar short on this, but yesterday was an historic day in the history of women’s rights. It was the 88th anniversary of women winning the right in America to vote.

Back in the dawn of time, when I was a little shoe, my friends and I always made a point of celebrating the occasion. This year, it was with no small amount of symbolism that Hillary gave her convention speech. Not the one she wanted to give, which would have be the nominee’s acceptance oration, but a speech nonetheless, and nonetheless historic. This was the year that the first viable female candidate for President of the United States almost made it to the general election. It only took 88 years, but hey, at least it was less than a century. Let’s give it up for Hillary.

Item the Second

For some reason, RJ decided to hit me with a meme. Thanks, bitch. I feel obligated to do this, since I never return the chain letters of love she sends me.

Instructions: What you are supposed to do…and please don’t spoil the fun…Copy/paste, type in your answers and tag four people in your lists! Don’t forget to change my answers to the questions with that of your own.

(A) Four places I go over and over: Newport, RI; Sarasota; New York City and Disney World (go ahead. mock me)

(B) Four people who e-mail me regularly: RJ, Star, Elise, CousinSteve

(C) Four of my favorite places to eat? Gil Capa’s Bistro; Les Halles; The Crab & Fin; Fox’s

(D) Four places you’d rather be? Sarasota, New York, Tahiti, home on the couch

(E) Four TV shows I could watch over and over: Firefly; Star Trek (oh, wait… I DO); Deadwood; The Avengers

(F) Four people I think will respond: Actually, I don’t think anyone will. So, you guys? Just stick a link in the comments if you decide to play.

But Wait, There’s More

As if RJ’s meme wasnt’ enough, Mean Louise tagged me the next day with another one. So here goes nothing:

Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you (see above).

2. Post the rules on your blog (this is what you are now reading).

3. Write 6 random things about yourself (see below).

4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them (This is only a game)

5. Let each person know they have been tagged and leave a comment on their blog

6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up

Six Things About Me

1. I have a tattoo of a Siamese Cat on my shoulder in an homage to Bob Dylan

2. I worked as a figure model in a life drawing class at the Woodstock School of Art

3. I eat chicken feet at dim sum restaurants just to get street cred with the steam cart pushers. It works.

4. I almost got crushed at a Bad Company concert at Madison Square Garden when a fight broke out in the front row

5. I still want a horse, dammit

6. If I could live in any other time and place, it would be in Belle Epoque Paris, and who’s to say I won’t in my next life

You’re it! RJ, Elise, Elise, Shan, Gigi and Bee

Open on the boy’s room, where a yellow stickie note reads “too much drama” (and not enough talent, snarks Miz Shoes). A quick cut to the women’s dorm reveals that Korto is kind of peeved that Kelli went home and that (in her opinion) that talentless hack Daniel2.0 is still around. Joe does a quick interview in which he dismissed Keith’s design aesthetic as “swatches”. The claws are out tonight, and we haven’t even gotten to the first commercial.

On the Parson’s runway, Heidi hold the velvet button bag. The back-lit silhouette is immense, with a set of Texas longhorns coming out of the cone-shaped head. Suede sums it up with a succinct “What the FUCK?” All is revealed as a great cackling laugh precedes the person of Chris March, dressed in full Brunhilde drag. He’s wearing disco balls for boobs, and a helmet with the above mentioned horns. He’s as fabulous as ever, and he and Heidi attempt to hug, but are foiled by the disco tits.

Quick shot of Terri proclaiming that this is the challenge she’s been waiting for, as she loves herself some drag queens. Korto, on the other hand, is overwhelmed by the visual stimuli of same. And, yes, that is the challenge this week: to design a stage costume for a drag queen. Oh, but not just any old random, off-the-street drag queens, but the Queens of the NYC drag scene: Farrah Moans, Miss Understood, Sweetie, Luisa Verde, Hedda Lettuce, Sharon Needles, Le May, Annida Greenkard, Sherry Vine, Acid Betty and Varla Jean Merman.

As the winner of the previous challenge, Keith gets to choose first, and he goes with Sherry Vine, who describes herself as NY’s Hollywood Starlet. In quick procession the designers choose their muses: Daniel2.0/Annida Greenkard, because she’s dressed in a flamenco dress; Oompa-Loompa-Licious opts for Miss Understood, who is dressed in neon colors and besides, really, it’s just pretty obvious isn’t it?; Jerell/LeMay (because she isn’t into costume); Straight Joe/Varla Jean Merman who describes her style as classic Ann Margaret drunk on glamour; Korto/Sweetie, because she likes sugar; Suede says that Suede has a head of ocean, and therefore needs Hedda Lettuce; Leanne steals Stella’s most likely choice, Sharon Needles; Kenley scoops up Farrah Moans; Terri goes for the seven-foot tall Acid Betty and Stella is left with Luisa Verde.

Chris and Heidi leave the stage arm in arm, engaged in some painful banter about going out for German food, which Heidi suggests would be beer and pretzels. Tim reminds the designers that designing for a drag queen means theatrical and over the top. No color too gaudy, no amount of sequins too many, no way to be too costumey. Do they listen? Not so much. They will get a budget of $200 and two days to work. All of the finished items will be auctioned off to Broadway Cares-Equity Fights AIDS. The designers and drag queens get half an hour to brainstorm their creations, incorporating the DQ’s personas and the designers’ styles. Then it’s off to Mood, where we see feathers and sequins and sparkly stuff. Straight Joe admits that this is way out of his league, but he’ll just imagine himself designing Halloween costumes for his daughters. Lord, I hope he doesn’t send those little girls out looking like drag queens. They’re just little girls, for heaven’s sake.

Daniel2.0 claims that he’s going to make a Glamazon Flamenco Dancer/Couture ensemble. I hear the first tolling of the iron death bell. Stella drones nasally about Luisa wants to be a lady, but she, Stella, prefers slick. Kenley is delighted with Farrah Moan, and is planning an Old Hollywood va-va-voom. Tim comes in to remind the designers that they really need to showboat this challenge, because, you know, hello? DRAG QUEENS?! And the winner gets immunity, which leads to Keith pissing and moaning about how he won the last challenge and is very not happy that he didn’t win immunity. Is it just me, or is Keith turning into a whiney little bitch who thinks he’s Miss Thing and All That and totally entitled?

Joe’s DQ has left behind her bra and boobs and there is much hilarity as everyone plays with them and they discuss the challenge of turning a large male mannequin into an even larger female dress form. Korto complains about how this challenge is out of her comfort zone. Honey? We don’t care. That’s sort of the whole point of this whole damn show, isn’t it? Terri describes her 80s look of leggings and a kimono for Acid Betty. Oompa-Loompa-Licious is wandering around with pink stuff tied over his head like a neon scarecrow (maybe he’s hoping the color will run and replenish his tan) and licious this and licious that-ing about every one and every thing. We are treated to a montage of all the other designers being sick and tired of Oompa-Loompa-Licious and his liciousness. Stella calls him cute, but all he knows is Licious, what ever that is. Leanne says that if she has to hear it one more time, she’ll barf, or maybe that would be barf-licious. Good one, Leanne.

And we’re at Day Two. Jerell says that walking into the work room, there is no doubt that they are designing for drag queens. (It’s a hot tranny mess up in there.)There are sequins and feathers and glitter all over. Suede tells us that he had a vision of his dead grandfather, looking over his design and telling him, “Suede, you need some seeds.” From this epiphany comes little lettuce heads, which he sews up the sides of the lime green opera-length gloves. Keith is doing something with fringes. Keith’s definition of fringes is very broad, encompassing any old shred or swatch of fabric he sticks down on a garment. He called last week’s skirt fringed, and it was scales/petals of chiffon. What ever. The other designers are as over his “fringes” and “swatches” as they are of Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ little verbal tic.

The queens come in for fittings and adjustments. They are not in drag, and none of the designers recognize these drab men as their fabulous muses. Only Hedda Lettuce keeps the persona going when out of costume. She’s fierce. Korto has made sort of a jester collar in flame colors and a huge strap-on (OH, get your minds out of the gutter, people) overskirt for Sweetie. Sweetie loves it, but I think it looks a bit like a sequined tomato on steroids. I do love the collar, though. Speaking of collars, Jerell is having issues with LeMay, who isn’t too keen on the deeply ruffled portrait collar he’s constructed. Straight Joe and Varla Jean look at the hot pink, sequined jump suit, and Varla says that it’s a little too Elvis. Maybe, she says, as she smoothes down her collar, we could make it a little more sailory? And the Miss Ann-Margret does the Love Boat look is born.

Hedda Lettuce is raggin’ on Suede, who is wearing an unfortunate pirate striped do-rag. She’s feeling a leetle Godzilla-ish she says, as she pulls on the lettuce covered gloves. And then she asks if Suede made gloves instead of sleeves cause he’s a lazy sack of shit. Suede is not happy with this line of questioning, and rightly flounces off in a huff.

With a mere six hours to go, Tim bring in Chris March to review and critique the designer’s work. Korto explains that her concept was “a woman in heat” and it certainly is. Oompa-Loompa-Licious has made something neon (again) with big, but not big enough, cone-shaped shoulder pads? wings? appendages? on the back that trail streamers. Tim tells him that it looks like a Pterodactyl from a gay Jurassic Park, and Oompa-Loompa-Licious gets all twitterpated and squeals that Tim has given him the greatest compliment, ever. Uh, no. No, he hasn’t you little orange troll, and even though you scored points with me last week, you have already lost them and dug further into my pit of contempt with your shenanigans this week.

Straight Joe has totally understood Varla’s persona and Chris and Tim are charmed. Suede tells them about how Hedda was such a bitch to him, and they tell Suede not to let her get away with that behavior. Tell her to wear it and work it, baby. And PS? That outfit is way cool, and she’d better work it for you. Keith’s pile of grey, white and black shreds is awful, and there isn’t a lot Tim or Chris can say. Daniel2.0 has made a pretty prom dress which has nothing to do with drag. Tim tells him to step up the drag and drama, and Daniel2.0 ignores him. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, Daniel2.0, it is tolling for thee. Oompa-Loompa-Licious, in an astonishing flash of insight, interviews that Daniel2.0 has made an evening gown, and a plain one at that, and not a drag queen’s costume. Jerell says something random about having to sell his dress like vacuums door to door.

The girls come in for the show, and hair and make up, which they don’t really need. Keith and Stella argue about the fringes and whether or not they need to be trimmed. Suede takes Hedda out to the tool shed and explains how he’s not happy with Hedda’s diva act, and how she needs to work this on the runway. Hedda, who is flawless, apologizes and all is sunshine and bunnies on team Suede Lettuce. Stella’s model says that she looks like Liz outa rehab, but I think she’s leaning a little toward Liza, myself. Also outa rehab. Stella, with an amazing lack of irony, claims that “these broads (referring to the drag queens) aren’t classy.” As we head into commercials, the quiz of the day is “who would you rather see in drag, Tim or Michael Kors?” The unanimous answer at Casa des Zapatos is Michael, although we suspect that he may not be a stranger to it.

Finally, we get to the runway. Heidi is in something short, shiny and tight. The guest judge is RuPaul, who is looking rode hard and put up wet. I have a dislike for RuPaul that goes back to her being vulgar and mean to Uncle Milty at the end of Berle’s life, and also to her being a bitch one year at White Party, so just maybe RuPaul isn’t aging as badly as I think. Or she is. On with the show.

Kenley’s dress is a silver, sequined column with an enormous portrait collar of black and white ostrich feathers. I think I’ve seen Carol Channing in this, wearing it with no irony whatsoever. Meh.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ model’s wings are drooping sadly. Oompa-Loompa-Licious says he doesn’t want the judges to think it was poorly made. It was. Varla Jean comes out in her hot pink pantsuit and works the runway and her outfit to within an inch of both their lives. She’s magnificent. Stella sends out another leatherette and plaid Vivienne Westwood homage. Ho-fucking-hum.

Hedda Lettuce does herself and Suede proud in her little green dress with the overjacket and gloves. She gives it her all, and everyone is happy. Daniel2.0’s Anneda Greenkard does her best, but it’s all hair and nothing else. Boring, boring, boring. And we never want to bore NinaGarcia. Terri’s Kabuki Samurai is AMAZING! The hair and make-up are perfect, the kimono and thigh-high boots with a red patent leather corselette/obi are fierce. The look is frightening and fabulous. The boots have been modified so that they are not identical. Acid Betty works it.

Jerell’s dress is weak, and Stella Needles isn’t feeling it. Sweetie, however, is feeling it, and she works that spangled tomato to death. She pulls off the overskirt and flashes her gams. Keith’s limp pile of “fringe” looks (HE says) like Tina Turner. Defensively, he adds, “Yeah, I used fringe again. So what? It’s totally different.” The last look is Leanne’s Jetsons-inspired mini. It’s all full of spiky folds and angles. It’s pretty damn cool.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious, Kenley, Suede, Stella and Leanne are sent away, safe for another week. Korto, Terri, Daniel2.0, Straight Joe, Keith and Jerell are the best and the worst, and stick around on the runway, waiting for the final tolling of the bell.

Terri’s design is loved to death by all. It’s Gene Simmons/Dianna Ross. Michael Kors says that he needs the boots. Told you he was a big old tranny. RuPaul loves the look.

Keith claims that his look is Sex Kitten. Heidi says it’s messy and Keith replies that rock and roll is messy. RuPaul asks “And did the dingos eat your baby? because you are all full of excuses.” Michael says that it doesn’t look like rock and roll, it looks like a “sad, molting gray chicken.” Michael Kors is brilliant. I want to go hang out and drink with him. And are the designers getting mouthier with the judges, or is it just editing? I remember rumors of Santino making NinaGarcia cry.

Jerell gets no love from the judges, either. RuPaul says that the proportions are wrong, and MK says that it looks a little bit Thoroughly Modern Millie Under The Sea, with a side of my auntie would have worn that to a bar mitzvah. Surrogate Daughter Number 3 suggests that MK is getting more Jewish every week. Korto, however, is lauded for her work with Sweetie. RuPaul loves the flattering shape. MK says that it gives Sweetie a Heidi Klum body, and he hears Victoria’s Secret calling. Sweetie squeezes the girls and sighs, oh, if ONLY they made a 44D.

Daniel2.0 is asked by NinaGarcia why, for the love of G-d did you NOT use sequins? And Daniel2.0 says that doing so would have made him vomit. I think that’s the final tolling of the bell, there, sport. The judges all howl that his work was too normal. They say “normal” like it’s a bad thing, which, when designing duds for drag queens, it totally is.

The judges deliberate, and it isn’t interesting enough to repeat. The results of the poll say that 54% of the respondents would rather see Tim Gunn in drag. The Surrogate Daughter and I agree that he could probably rock a drag Mary Poppins. Or the banker’s secretary from the Beverly Hillbillies.

Terri is in (and none to happy with coming in second). Damn, that’s a puss face. Straight Joe wins!!! As well he should. Varla sold that outfit and it fit her like a glove. She tee-hees, and oh, yous the judges and flutters her false eyelashes. Straight Joe gets immunity for next week. He goes to the back and sits next to Terri, who glares daggers at him, and you know that she just wants to cut a bitch. Korto and Jerell are in. Daniel2.0 and Keith are on the bottom. Daniel2.0 is taken to task for not listening, and not delivering anything but excuses. Keith is told his work is random, unpolished and getting old. Keith is left in to bore Nina another week, and Daniel2.0 and his impeccable taste get to pack up their pins and needles and go home. Good-bye, Danny boy. You were never as interesting as Daniel Franco, anyway.

Next week, the designers work with auto parts or something and Laura Bennett is our guest judge. Whee!

My grandmother, OBM, was a lot of things, and a lot of them not too nice. But there was one thing she was, wholeheartedly and without reservation, and that was an ardent Zionist. There wasn’t a news story, a scandal or a non-fiction book published, that she didn’t ask the question: “But is it good for the Jews?” She was an old-fashioned woman, the kind who would spit (or at least pretend to) when certain people’s names were mentioned (oh, you know, like Adolf Hitler, or my first husband). Reading this story today, my grandmother would have become apoplectic.

I mean, OK, you want more power, so you turn your coat and become an “Independent” and no longer a Democrat, although you caucus with the Dems. OK, whatever, you nasty little chickenhawk, you want to support the meaningless war in the Middle East because you think it would be good for the Jews, although G-d only knows how. But to go out and campaign for John McCain? AND speak against Barack Obama? Oh, get over yourself, you terrible little man. Just declare yourself a Republican already. Oh, that’s right. You won your election as a Democrat, so changing parties after the fact is a little disingenuous. Still, it didn’t stop you from going to the indefinable middle, did it? Nor is it stopping you from giving a speech at the Republican convention, or even keeping you from being considered on the short list for John McCain’s running mate.

And you know what? Although my grandmother would be very unhappy with this, I say, go for it. Because in the long run, you on the ticket with McCain would be very,very good for the Jews. In that all those in-bred, racist fucks who don’t want to vote for someone who’s half-black will just have to kill themselves before they’d ever let a Kike be a heartbeat away from the presidency. Yep. You just get on that ticket and run, run, run, you little khazer. You sit out campaigning on the sabbath and push your Jewishness in all those white bread faces who are scared of anything different. Nothing you do could do more to help the Democratic candidate. And a Democrat in the White House, especially this Democrat, would really be good for the Jews.