Monday, July 07, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: "I Love Money"
DOB: July 6, 2008
Occupation: shamelessly trashtastic reality awesomeness
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Current residence: Sundays on Vh1 at 9 p.m.
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: In the past, I have wholeheartedly enjoyed Vh1's series of shows involving legions of fame-hungry skanks competing for the hearts of William "Flavor Flav" Drayton, Tiffany "New York" Pollard, and Bret Michaels on "Flavor of Love," "I Love New York," and "Rock of Love," respectively. Therefore, when I heard that Vh1 was rounding a bunch of my favorite aspiring rappers, former strippers and stars of the pro/am porn circuit, and assorted rejects from these shows and pitting them against one another for $250,000, I enthusiastically vowed to watch every episode. This show is going to be incredibly trashy, abysmally low class, and utterly exploitive. In other words, it's exactly the kind of thing I will totally love and chatter about constantly.
In case you missed the many (awesome) shows which lent the "stars" of "I Love Money," let me introduce you to the fine people who have traveled to Cancun or wherever to compete in the ultimate debased attention whoring contest. Behold, the incandescent figures who will restore/maintain Vh1's status as the leader in premium skankified reality television:
12 Pack from "I Love New York"
12 Pack was the overmuscled male stripper/bodybuilder/Guido fist pumper extraordinaire from ILNY who, despite his excessive protesting about not being gay despite having obtained work as a peeler for the sausage set, declared him and the latently homoerotic Heat members of an exclusive club called the "Party Boys." When New York booted him, he bragged about how he wasn't upset because he was on his way back to New Jersey to "fuck the shit out of" his ex-girlfriend.
Brandi C. from "Rock of Love"
Brandi C. caught the eye of extension-sporting baldy Bret Michaels when Erin AKA "circus tits" reduced her to tears via disparaging comments about her "meth-scratched face." Apparently, Brandi's facial injuries resulted from a car accident rather than methamphetamine-induced self-mutilation, which she considered "a disability." Much like her competitor of the same first name, Brandi C. fell back on a time-honored RoL profession: semi-pro pornography. You can see her skank skills in action by Googling the term "Brittany Burke." Of her role on the show, Brandi says "this is my life...I NEED to be here." Seemingly the Fates sat down at their cosmic loom and wove "webcam slag turned Vh1 reality whore" into the fabric of Brandi C.'s destiny.
Chance from "I Love New York"
After New York rejected him in the season 1 finale, Chance announced he was "about to go blow a blunt" and stormed off ranting about Tango, the "Ninja Turtle-lookin' motherfucker" that New York chose instead. Chance wound up vindicated when Tango dumped New York on the live reunion show, as even though he was such a character that New York's insane mother offered him $5000 to leave the show, he claimed to have too much class to drop New York on national TV. Chance is also famous for trying to promote his rap group, the Stallionaires (named for his family's horse-rearing business), and coining the term "water dogs" to describe dolphins. Judging by the number of Stallionaires money sign-adorned scarves and hats he dons, Chance definitely loves money, so I'm sure he will make a formidable competitor.
Destiney from "Rock of Love 2"
This bisexual stripper spells her name "Destiney." Enough said. Wait...is she a stripper? I just assume that everyone from RoL has worked in the sex industry at one point or another.
The Entertainer from "I Love New York 2"
Hailing from Queens where he lives with his parents, The Entertainer became notable when he tried to kick ILNY2 winner Tailor Made's ass at family dinner. The Entertainer's mother proceeded to get into a vicious war or words with New York's mother Sister Patterson, and ultimately New York sent him packing. The Entertainer has now stated that, if he wins the $250,000 grand prize, he will spend it on moving out of his mom's house.
Heat from "I Love New York"
Heat was deprived of his chain by New York because he claimed that in the hierarchy of women in his family, she would be entitled to eat last after his mother and his ya-ya. New York didn't take kindly to Heat feeding his familial matriarchs while she "starved," and sent him off. However, Heat didn't sit idly by. Along with his fellow entrepreneur and partner in drunken latent homoeroticism 12 Pack, Heat began touring the Jersey Shore club scene as one half of the "Party Boys." I'm sure he's going to make some smart investments with his winnings, and by "smart investments" I mean he's going to buy out the supply of Jaeger bombs at every 18 and over club in Bridgewater.
Heather from "Rock of Love" AND two awesome standout episodes of "Rock of Love 2"
Heather is the crazy hotness. Not only does she have the world's most refined taste in clothing and is singlehandedly keeping Aqua Net in business, she actually went to far as to tattoo "Bret" on her neck to show her love for the aging Mr. Michaels. Unfortunately, neither the tattoo, her talents at pole dancing, or her willingness to have orgies with whatever other willing skanks happen to be living in the RoL house were enough to win Bret's heart. I'm glad that Heather hasn't let heartbreak interfere with her career in televised drunken sluttery.
Hoopz from "Flavor of Love"
Hoopz beat New York out for Flavor Flav's affection in the original FoL, and then promptly dumped Flav (supposedly for T.I. which is a definitive upgrade in the short rapper department), because he is butt ugly. Unfortunately, Hoopz's triumph in FoL has not resulted in a meaningful celebrity career, and thus she's giving Vh1 another go-round. I suspect Hoopz will be a real contender matched only by the aforementioned elegant and sophisticated Heather.
Megan from "Rock of Love 2"
Since crying over the rejection Bret Michaels gave her, Megan has recovered and gotten "old has-beens" out of her system. She also discovered her calling, which apparently is rescuing retarded Chihuahuas. Given that she said her ambition is to build a house with a glass-ceilinged room so she can "tan even when it's cold out," I'm wondering if she isn't a case of a dog lover selecting a pet with a matching personality.
Midget Mac from "I Love New York 2"
I LOVE Midget Mac. In fact, I was so upset when he was eliminated from ILNY2 that I douchebagged New York. He's like two feet tall, he can't swim, he's some kind of rap video hype man, and his thoughts regarding his prospects are "I only nervous when the condom breaks." This is probably a reasonable concern, as he has two bastard kids and is thus accustomed to receiving what Lil' Wayne calls "that 'I think I'm late' text." He also apparently hates women, and refuses to apologize to Brandi C. for calling her a ho despite Rodeo's reasonable mediating. Unbelievably, Midget Mac got booted last night for his lack of "mental stability." Like the man himself, his tenure on "I Love Money" was apparently short and sweet acrimonious.
Mr. Boston from "I Love New York"
In last night's episode, Mr. Boston introduced himself by admitting that he posts his most recent STD testing results on his bedroom door as extra incentive for visiting ladies to venture in. Brandi C. later described his patented "Boston charm" as "creeptastic creeperson." Nonetheless, based on "mental abilities only," Whiteboy selected Boston for his team, which Boston later attributed to "Jews stick together, especially on shows called 'I Love Money.'" I suspect that it's actually more because of Mr. Boston's inexplicable talents at stripping.
Nibblz from "Flavor of Love 2"
A professional dominatrix when not being rejected by Flavor Flav for working in the sex industry, I can only imagine that Nibblz's gravitas as a mistress in the BDSM-for-hire scene is increased by the fact that she lisps unbelievably around her mouthful of piercings. She seriously says things like, "I'm going to dethtroy thethe bitctheth". I bet hearing her say dominatrix things like "Bow to your mithtress" and "Bend over and thpread 'em, thlave!" makes her clients submit like what.
Pumkin from "Flavor of Love"
Pumkin made New York's career when she spit on her during a fight on "Flavor of Love." New York went berserk, threw herself at Pumkin like a rabid weasel, and literally swore to "cut that bitch in half." Several years later, New York is still threatening to bisect her enemies on yet another Vh1 reality series revolving around her craziness, and Pumkin is still spitting for the camera whenever she gets a chance in the desperate hope of remaining relevant as that middle-aged-looking 20-year-old who spit on New York.
Real from "I Love New York"
Chance's brother and fellow Stallionaire, Real claims to be more centered than his tempestuous younger brother and seemed deeply saddened when New York sent his long-haired Jermaine Dupri-looking ass back to the horse farm in ILNY. I can't wait to see what happens when he competes against his family for 250,000 clams rather than the heart of the woman with the most ridiculous breasts on the planet.
Rodeo from "Rock of Love"
Bret sent Rodeo packing because she wouldn't shut up about her kid, and because he seemed to instinctively know that Rodeo was too mature and grounded to ever succeed as his television-selected girlfriend. However, Rodeo is back to prove Bret wrong about that by joining the skanks in Mexico to prove her love of money and Z-list reality fame.
Toastee from "Flavor of Love 2"
Toastee's brief dalliance with low-rent porn got her booted by Flavor Flav (who, despite his constant "WOOOOWWWW"-ing about women's bodies, is ostensibly a family man too good for dating a homemade porn star. While I think this is patently unfair, I have to admit that Flav probably dodged a bullet. During the intro show, Toastee showed viewers around her house in Pennsylvania, which is filled with disturbing roadkill taxidermy. She also wants to use her financial winnings to attend med school, presumably an offshoot of her interest in dissection and dead animal art. I think she might actually be a budding serial killer.
Whiteboy from "I Love New York"
According to Whiteboy, he's participating because he has "bills to pay and cars to buy, and investments to invest in." Spoken like the true would-be Jewish gangster he has fashioned himself to be. So far, Whiteboy has lived up to his self-styled hip-hop-influenced Meyer Lansky image and won an elusive team captain designation.
The only thing that could make this better is a guest appearance by Angelique (the incomprehensible French porn slag from RoL2), Tiffany (the incomprehensible drunk star of R. Kelly's "Rock Star" video from RoL who was constantly warning people against threatening her with a good time), Hottie (proud owner of the worst weaves–among MANY cheap extensions–appearing on FoL) and Lacey (the most evil roller derby skater in reality TV history from RoL). So, if you are remotely interesting or smart and you don't hate fun, you'll know exactly what you need to do Sundays at 9 p.m.: park your fat ass in front of the TV and switch the channel to Vh1!
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, Flavor of Love, I Love Money, I Love New York, media whores, Rock of Love, sluts, TV, Vh1
Monday, October 15, 2007
Vh1 Programming Executives, are you listening...?
LL Cool Jew and I were bemoaning the return of lame-ass Bret Michaels to "Rock of Love" the other day via phone, and we wound up having a lengthy discussion about our favorite trashy reality shows. I was talking with her about the few moments of "Celebrity Rap Superstar" that I had seen and enjoyed, but expressed my concern that the show's moments of greatness were too few and far between.
"You know, in priniciple it should be trashtastic enough for me to like, but it just doesn't quite take it to the level of awesomeness I require," I explained.
"Yeah, I see your point. The hilarity of Sebastian Bach badly rapping 'Bust a Move' has long ceased to amuse," LL Cool Jew assented.
"The moments of greatness are basically limited to any time that a certain player-ass pimp named Todd Shaw makes an appearance."
"ABSOLUTELY," LL Cool Jew fervently agreed.
"In fact, why the hell doesn't $hort Dog have his own reality show?" I mused, then was gripped with what a fabulous idea that would be. "I mean...OH MY GOD...can you imagine how awesome--how FUCKING awesome--'Flavor of Too $hort' would be as a show??"
LL Cool Jew and I were both dumbstruck by such a mind-blowingly amazing concept. Flavor Flav is a crazy, zany character for sure, but his lack of success at finding love with the deceitful social-climbing Hoopz and the rear-endowed Deelishis may be on account of his lack of skills when it comes to running hos. Todd "Too $hort" Shaw, on the other hand, got all his game from Oakland, California, and that game involves managing a flock of top-notches and getting head. Instead of getting clocks, the contestants retained each week can get a pimp slap and called a "Beeyotch!", a great honor coming from this most lauded of pimps. And for anyone who thinks that Too $hort couldn't carry a show comprising of him running a houseful of hoes, I would direct them to the cover of his Shorty the Pimp album, which proves otherwise:
I doubt that the flavor of an East Oakland player would be good, and according to the fate of the unfortunate teenage prostitute named "Blowjob Betty," it can even be fatal, but I bet it would be ratings gold! Vh1 needs to quit recycling Da Brat and Warren G and Flavor Flav and get a real player who is only trying to fuck a bitch, fuck trying to charm her. When he's through fuckin', bitches leavin' with nothing, and that's because he's making bankrolls for-rilla...and he could be making those bankrolls for Vh1. This is exactly the kind of thing that cable TV reality dating competitions need to stay fresh. Seriously, e-mail Vh1 and DEMAND "Flavor of Too $hort!" It's the best idea ever.
"You know, in priniciple it should be trashtastic enough for me to like, but it just doesn't quite take it to the level of awesomeness I require," I explained.
"Yeah, I see your point. The hilarity of Sebastian Bach badly rapping 'Bust a Move' has long ceased to amuse," LL Cool Jew assented.
"The moments of greatness are basically limited to any time that a certain player-ass pimp named Todd Shaw makes an appearance."
"ABSOLUTELY," LL Cool Jew fervently agreed.
"In fact, why the hell doesn't $hort Dog have his own reality show?" I mused, then was gripped with what a fabulous idea that would be. "I mean...OH MY GOD...can you imagine how awesome--how FUCKING awesome--'Flavor of Too $hort' would be as a show??"
LL Cool Jew and I were both dumbstruck by such a mind-blowingly amazing concept. Flavor Flav is a crazy, zany character for sure, but his lack of success at finding love with the deceitful social-climbing Hoopz and the rear-endowed Deelishis may be on account of his lack of skills when it comes to running hos. Todd "Too $hort" Shaw, on the other hand, got all his game from Oakland, California, and that game involves managing a flock of top-notches and getting head. Instead of getting clocks, the contestants retained each week can get a pimp slap and called a "Beeyotch!", a great honor coming from this most lauded of pimps. And for anyone who thinks that Too $hort couldn't carry a show comprising of him running a houseful of hoes, I would direct them to the cover of his Shorty the Pimp album, which proves otherwise:
Labels: Flavor of Love, I LOVE IT, LL Cool Jew, rap, Rock of Love, Too $hort, TV, Vh1
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
The "Rock of Love 2 With..." whodunnit
If for some reason you have not followed "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels" religiously as myself and my similarly petty, frivolous friends have done, you may not know that Bret unceremoniously excused Heather the high-haired stripper who actually tatted "BRET" on her neck to show her devotion in favor of Jes, aka Gwen Stefani circa 1999. Well, he chose Jes after he asked the ladies if they'd both consent to being his girlfriend, but alas, Bret Michaels is not the Hugh Hefner of washed-up glam rockers. Anyway, yesterday I got this e-mail from JerseyGirl concerning the fallout:
From: JerseyGirl (jgirl@thirdmostwatchedcablenewsnetwork.com)
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org), LL Cool Jew (llcooljew@trotskyitepropagandists.org)
Subject: guess it didn't last too long with Jes...
http://www.buddytv.com/articles/rock-of-love/rock-of-love-casting-has-start-11705.aspx
In case you are too lazy to read the actual article linked there, it's basically about how they're now casting "Rock of Love 2," which led us to initially worry that as far as lasting relationships go, the "Flavor of Love" superfamily of shows is 0 for 4 (soon to be 0 for 6, after "I Love New York 2" and "Flavor of Love 3" drop).
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
To: JerseyGirl (jgirl@thirdmostwatchedcablenewsnetwork.com), LL Cool Jew (llcooljew@trotskyitepropagandists.org)
Subject: guess it didn't last too long with Jes...
You should apply!
Also, turns out "I Love NY 2" doesn't start until next week, so we'll have to wait... :(
JerseyGirl countered:
Razzy - YOU should apply. you would put all those bitches to shame!
And since there's no way I'd ever stoop so low as to offer my much-lauded vagina to a balding, insecure has-been with bad cheek implants like Bret Michaels, I had to argue that Vh1 get some fresh members of Poison in for the next go-round:
There is no way in a MILLION years I would ever eff Bret Michaels. C.C. DeVille, maybe, but not Bret. Nor would I tattoo that fuck's name on my neck!
Undeterred, JerseyGirl decided to relive the good times of the climactic "Rock of Love" finale:
that was one of the best scenes of the whole season. when heather just scowled at him and stormed off!
what an idiot though. i mean really, who would EVER get a tattoo like that on your neck
This rehashing and encouraging the other to apply for "Rock of Love 2" between JerseyGirl and myself would have continued all day if LL Cool Jew hadn't stepped in. Being that she is a graduate of the journalism school at Columbia University in the City of New York, she broke out her keen, discerning comprehension skills and pointed out that all hope may not be lost for the storied romance of Bret Michaels and Jes Stefani.
From: LL Cool Jew (llcooljew@trotskyitepropagandists.org)
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org), JerseyGirl (jgirl@thirdmostwatchedcablenewsnetwork.com)
Subject: maybe it DID work out with Jes!!!!!
Wait a second ...read this thing carefully:
"And since Bret Michaels and Rock of Love have been successful, of
course, there will be another. We don't know which rocker will be
filling Bret Michaels' bandana, but casting has already started across
the country."
It's not Mr. Every Rose!!!!!!!!!!
JerseyGirl, being her predictable Garden State-obsessed self, responded with some typical wishful thinking:
maybe the next one will be Richie Sambora?
LL Cool Jew and I both immediately called her on her Bon Jovi-centrism. LL Cool Jew stated:
oh god EW. but bon jovi is still, like, selling popular albums. would he deign to do vh1RoL??
maybe it's Kid Rock. nah
Sebastian Bach is married...
Axl??
I offered my own suggestions:
OF COURSE JerseyGirl insists on it being someone from Bon Jovi.
I would seriously apply if it is one of the following hot studs:
1. Klaus Meine, lead singer of The Scorpions
2. Joe Elliott, lead singer of Def Leppard
3. Nikki Sixx, bassist for Motley Crue and former heroin addict
4. Ronnie James Dio (obviously)
5. Dave Mustaine, lead singer of Megadeth, former Metallica bassist, and all around FUCKING LUNATIC
6. Steve Perry...small guy...BIG VOICE
AND OF COURSE
7. DAVID LEE ROTH, JEWISH ROCK STAR!
Then I further responded to LL Cool Jew:
Nah, Kid Rock is busy touring with a certain Robert Sylvester Kelly, a wise career move that will undoubtedly result in a resurgence in his popularity.
Richie Sambora is in rehab right now with Lindsay Lohan.
Axl is a possibility. He needs to lose those cornrows before I'd consider hitting that though.
JerseyGirl liked my ideas:
david lee roth would be cool.
but can you even IMAGINE what kind of girls would line up for Axl? It would be like 20 Tiffany's x500
LL Cool Jew was thinking much more practically:
raz, you have to write a blog about this!
I concurred with both my esteemed Smith alumnae, as well as came up with my own show idea for Vh1:
Axl with 20 Tiffany-squareds would be like the awesomest thing ever. The only thing that would be better would be R. Kelly's Rhythm of Love or something like that. I'm having a heart attack just even THINKING about that.
And yeah, I'll totz blog about this...
Well, that's done, so now the only thing left to do is request that the internet opine via commentary or e-mail about who you think the next eligible bachelor will be on "Rock of Love 2." I actually think Axl Rose could be a real front-runner. His attempts to resurrect G'n'R have been failing, and his media attention is limited to gossip coverage of embarrassing instances such as the time Tommy Hilfiger kicked his ass. He's prime for a Vh1-mediated celebreality comeback, and a dating show would be perfect since you know his broke ass isn't scoring Stephanie Seymour-caliber pussy anymore. David Lee Roth is also always looking for work and attention, so I could see Diamond Dave karate-kicking his way into some trampy slag's heart. Otherwise, I think Nikki Sixx, the lead singer of Quiet Riot, or any of the guys from Rush might be candidates. Anyone else care to contribute their wild speculation? Please do so.
What is most unfortunate is that R. Kelly has no plans to make a "_____ of Love"-type show anytime soon for me to go on and vie for Robert Sylvester Kelly's affections by demonstrating my mad playerette flirter skills. However, it's probably for the best, because even looking at the photo of "Rock of Love" castoff Tiffany apparently making good on her threat to give the R-uh in R&B a good time is making me shout, "BITCH, get your paws off my BOYFRIEND!"
I just have to remind myself that if R. Kelly could, he'd fuck with all y'all, and I'd be sharing him with all the other bitches in the mansion if such a show were to exist. So it's probably for the best that I'm limited to speculating what washed-up buttrocker of yesteryear will be the object of stripper and webcam porn star catfights on "Rock of Love 2" instead of obsessing over whether or not I could win a solo date with Kells.
From: JerseyGirl (jgirl@thirdmostwatchedcablenewsnetwork.com)
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org), LL Cool Jew (llcooljew@trotskyitepropagandists.org)
Subject: guess it didn't last too long with Jes...
http://www.buddytv.com/article
In case you are too lazy to read the actual article linked there, it's basically about how they're now casting "Rock of Love 2," which led us to initially worry that as far as lasting relationships go, the "Flavor of Love" superfamily of shows is 0 for 4 (soon to be 0 for 6, after "I Love New York 2" and "Flavor of Love 3" drop).
From: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org)
To: JerseyGirl (jgirl@thirdmostwatchedcablenewsnetwork.com), LL Cool Jew (llcooljew@trotskyitepropagandists.org)
Subject: guess it didn't last too long with Jes...
You should apply!
Also, turns out "I Love NY 2" doesn't start until next week, so we'll have to wait... :(
JerseyGirl countered:
Razzy - YOU should apply. you would put all those bitches to shame!
And since there's no way I'd ever stoop so low as to offer my much-lauded vagina to a balding, insecure has-been with bad cheek implants like Bret Michaels, I had to argue that Vh1 get some fresh members of Poison in for the next go-round:
There is no way in a MILLION years I would ever eff Bret Michaels. C.C. DeVille, maybe, but not Bret. Nor would I tattoo that fuck's name on my neck!
Undeterred, JerseyGirl decided to relive the good times of the climactic "Rock of Love" finale:
that was one of the best scenes of the whole season. when heather just scowled at him and stormed off!
what an idiot though. i mean really, who would EVER get a tattoo like that on your neck
This rehashing and encouraging the other to apply for "Rock of Love 2" between JerseyGirl and myself would have continued all day if LL Cool Jew hadn't stepped in. Being that she is a graduate of the journalism school at Columbia University in the City of New York, she broke out her keen, discerning comprehension skills and pointed out that all hope may not be lost for the storied romance of Bret Michaels and Jes Stefani.
From: LL Cool Jew (llcooljew@trotskyitepropagandists.org)
To: Razzy (razzy@razzy.org), JerseyGirl (jgirl@thirdmostwatchedcablenewsnetwork.com)
Subject: maybe it DID work out with Jes!!!!!
Wait a second ...read this thing carefully:
"And since Bret Michaels and Rock of Love have been successful, of
course, there will be another. We don't know which rocker will be
filling Bret Michaels' bandana, but casting has already started across
the country."
It's not Mr. Every Rose!!!!!!!!!!
JerseyGirl, being her predictable Garden State-obsessed self, responded with some typical wishful thinking:
maybe the next one will be Richie Sambora?
LL Cool Jew and I both immediately called her on her Bon Jovi-centrism. LL Cool Jew stated:
oh god EW. but bon jovi is still, like, selling popular albums. would he deign to do vh1RoL??
maybe it's Kid Rock. nah
Sebastian Bach is married...
Axl??
I offered my own suggestions:
OF COURSE JerseyGirl insists on it being someone from Bon Jovi.
I would seriously apply if it is one of the following hot studs:
1. Klaus Meine, lead singer of The Scorpions
2. Joe Elliott, lead singer of Def Leppard
3. Nikki Sixx, bassist for Motley Crue and former heroin addict
4. Ronnie James Dio (obviously)
5. Dave Mustaine, lead singer of Megadeth, former Metallica bassist, and all around FUCKING LUNATIC
6. Steve Perry...small guy...BIG VOICE
AND OF COURSE
7. DAVID LEE ROTH, JEWISH ROCK STAR!
Then I further responded to LL Cool Jew:
Nah, Kid Rock is busy touring with a certain Robert Sylvester Kelly, a wise career move that will undoubtedly result in a resurgence in his popularity.
Richie Sambora is in rehab right now with Lindsay Lohan.
Axl is a possibility. He needs to lose those cornrows before I'd consider hitting that though.
JerseyGirl liked my ideas:
david lee roth would be cool.
but can you even IMAGINE what kind of girls would line up for Axl? It would be like 20 Tiffany's x500
LL Cool Jew was thinking much more practically:
raz, you have to write a blog about this!
I concurred with both my esteemed Smith alumnae, as well as came up with my own show idea for Vh1:
Axl with 20 Tiffany-squareds would be like the awesomest thing ever. The only thing that would be better would be R. Kelly's Rhythm of Love or something like that. I'm having a heart attack just even THINKING about that.
And yeah, I'll totz blog about this...
Well, that's done, so now the only thing left to do is request that the internet opine via commentary or e-mail about who you think the next eligible bachelor will be on "Rock of Love 2." I actually think Axl Rose could be a real front-runner. His attempts to resurrect G'n'R have been failing, and his media attention is limited to gossip coverage of embarrassing instances such as the time Tommy Hilfiger kicked his ass. He's prime for a Vh1-mediated celebreality comeback, and a dating show would be perfect since you know his broke ass isn't scoring Stephanie Seymour-caliber pussy anymore. David Lee Roth is also always looking for work and attention, so I could see Diamond Dave karate-kicking his way into some trampy slag's heart. Otherwise, I think Nikki Sixx, the lead singer of Quiet Riot, or any of the guys from Rush might be candidates. Anyone else care to contribute their wild speculation? Please do so.
What is most unfortunate is that R. Kelly has no plans to make a "_____ of Love"-type show anytime soon for me to go on and vie for Robert Sylvester Kelly's affections by demonstrating my mad playerette flirter skills. However, it's probably for the best, because even looking at the photo of "Rock of Love" castoff Tiffany apparently making good on her threat to give the R-uh in R&B a good time is making me shout, "BITCH, get your paws off my BOYFRIEND!"
Labels: buttrock, Flavor of Love, I Love New York, JerseyGirl, LL Cool Jew, Robert Sylvester Kelly, sluts, TV, Vh1
Monday, September 10, 2007
Daily Douchebag: Bret Michaels
DOB: March 15, 1963
Occupation: lead singer of Poison, diabetic, insecure bald dude
Hometown: Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania
Current residence: Los Angeles, California
Douchebaggery: Last night the tragedy that I had long feared and dreaded finally came to pass...Brandi M.'s tour ended on "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels." After noting that "if you want to date a rock star, you've got to party like one," Brandi proceeded to drink so much Gray Goose vodka out of the bottle that she vomited into her napkin during dinner. Luckily, the horror known as Lacey was also drunk off her ass but she managed to stick around because Bret has no taste in women.
When "Rock of Love" first started, I SORT OF liked Bret Michaels because not only does Poison have its moments and because fucking Bret Michaels is an entirely more appealing prospect than with Flavor Flav. Getting sexy with Flav gives a whole new meaning to the term "doing the nasty." I'd take some Bret Michaels dick over that ugly little hobbit at any time. Besides, Bret has a mildly self-deprecating sense of humor that's sort of endearing, and he doesn't have the annoying tendency to shout "yeah, boyeeeeeeee!" incessantly like Flav does. However, Bret's affection for the stank, Satanic Lacey, as well as his absolutely horrible taste in outlandishly gaudy cowboy hats, is irritating to me.
Last night, as I watched him suggest that Brandi M. was a bitch for leading him on when she told him she loved him or something while she was puking, but then admitted that she really didn't think they made a very strong connection, I was like, "NO! Brandi M. is being honest with you! More honest than Lacey or drag queeny-ass Heather! Keep her around!" Brandi may not be head over heels in love with Bret, but come on, like these shows ever result in the world's greatest relationship. Obviously things worked out so well for his predecessor Flav with Hoopz and Deelishis that he's now doing "Flavor of Love 3." Vh1 reality shows may be extremely entertaining, but I would say that their track record is pretty poor when it comes to setting up successful relationships. In fact, it's so crappy that last season's "I Love New York" reunion ended with Tango dumping New York on live TV. So who cares that Brandi M. didn't fall in love with Bret's ass in the extremely contrived climate of Bret's mansion? At least she was honest about it.
However, Brandi's honesty was probably her downfall. Bret was concerned that she'd give away his greatest secret. My complaining about yet another shiteous piece of flame-emblazoned "American Outlaw" crap headwear last night led J-Sexy and my buddy Unicorn Dick to wonder why he is so intent on always putting something hideous on his head. "He's bald, dude," said Unicorn Dick. That actually makes a lot of sense. I have yet to see Bret without a bandana or stupid hat covering the entire top of his skull. It's been years since we've seen the top of Bret Michael's head. I think he's hiding something, specifically a helicopter launching pad surrounded by those long blonde tresses which are his trademark. Brandi got the boot because she'd probably get sloppy drunk and tell the world what Bret's head looks like, and it wouldn't really help Bret's "rock star" image retain its rapidly declining relevance to be singing "Unskinny Bop" while sporting a big shiny bald spot. In my long and storied experience, that kind of insecurity can mean only one thing: small, ugly, crooked, skinny, or otherwise inferior penis! Brandi should count her blessings, because she dodged some disappointing dick.
Labels: Daily Douchebag, Flavor of Love, I Love New York, sluts, small penises, TV, Vh1
Thursday, August 02, 2007
I know what time it is!
The gossip internets have just informed me of a very, VERY important development in the world of Vh1 celebreality. I thought this would never happen again, because William "Flavor Flav" Drayton had sworn off television-based dating after his relationships with Brigitte Nielsen, Hoopz, and Deelishis went the way of the dodo. However, he's had a change of heart, and once again, this awesomeness is going down!
Obviously I had to immediately contact LL Cool Jew, who watches this trash with as much relish as myself. I got a Google chat going and received a rapid and astonished response.
razzy: DUDE! OMG! Flavor of Love 3 is now casting!
llcooljew: WHAT?
razzy: YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
razzy: i'm so excited
razzy: vh1 just keeps hitting them out of the park
razzy: they need to quit effing around with scott baio and just do nothing but flavor of love spinoffs and sequels and the WSOPC (that's World Series of Pop Culture)
llcooljew: maybe you should apply?
llcooljew: nah
razzy: oh HELL no
llcooljew: you might have to smooch flavor flav
razzy: or fuck him!
razzy: no way
razzy: he can hang out with all those wannabe r&b singers and ex-webcam whores
llcooljew: bootz proved you don't have to fuck him to make the final four
razzy: that's true...but she did get pink slipped because of that
razzy: and "winning" a relationship with william drayton is not my idea of a prize
razzy: on the other hand, i might get to meet luminaries like lloyd banks, warren g, the ying yang twins, and three 6 mafia
As much as I'd like to try and see if the Ying Yang Twins are even capable of properly enunciating a solitary word, Christ would have to return to earth, initiate the Apocalypse, and personally instruct my ass to go on the show for me to ever consider going on "Flavor of Love." Even if I drank ten gallons of Johnnie Walker and took a bunch of Ecstasy I wouldn't be fucked up or desperately horny enough to go anywhere near his hobbity little ass. Furthermore, as entertaining as "Flavor of Love" is, there's no way I'm going to make a fool of myself competing against those Wet Seal-wearing syphilitic hookers on the show for a roll in the hay with the rapper equivalent of Gollum.
Besides, after perusing the casting site, I don't think I could come remotely close to challenging the overwhelming sexiness and charisma known as Sargent Beverly, AKA Miss Sophisticated.
I look like a rancid sack of vomit next to the Sarge here, even if she is a cock in a frock. Bitch looks like (s)he can work it. She'd dispatch me like one of the roaches that Raid can is intended for, and I'm not messing with that.
razzy: DUDE! OMG! Flavor of Love 3 is now casting!
llcooljew: WHAT?
razzy: YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
razzy: i'm so excited
razzy: vh1 just keeps hitting them out of the park
razzy: they need to quit effing around with scott baio and just do nothing but flavor of love spinoffs and sequels and the WSOPC (that's World Series of Pop Culture)
llcooljew: maybe you should apply?
llcooljew: nah
razzy: oh HELL no
llcooljew: you might have to smooch flavor flav
razzy: or fuck him!
razzy: no way
razzy: he can hang out with all those wannabe r&b singers and ex-webcam whores
llcooljew: bootz proved you don't have to fuck him to make the final four
razzy: that's true...but she did get pink slipped because of that
razzy: and "winning" a relationship with william drayton is not my idea of a prize
razzy: on the other hand, i might get to meet luminaries like lloyd banks, warren g, the ying yang twins, and three 6 mafia
As much as I'd like to try and see if the Ying Yang Twins are even capable of properly enunciating a solitary word, Christ would have to return to earth, initiate the Apocalypse, and personally instruct my ass to go on the show for me to ever consider going on "Flavor of Love." Even if I drank ten gallons of Johnnie Walker and took a bunch of Ecstasy I wouldn't be fucked up or desperately horny enough to go anywhere near his hobbity little ass. Furthermore, as entertaining as "Flavor of Love" is, there's no way I'm going to make a fool of myself competing against those Wet Seal-wearing syphilitic hookers on the show for a roll in the hay with the rapper equivalent of Gollum.
Besides, after perusing the casting site, I don't think I could come remotely close to challenging the overwhelming sexiness and charisma known as Sargent Beverly, AKA Miss Sophisticated.
I look like a rancid sack of vomit next to the Sarge here, even if she is a cock in a frock. Bitch looks like (s)he can work it. She'd dispatch me like one of the roaches that Raid can is intended for, and I'm not messing with that.
Labels: Flavor of Love, I LOVE IT, LL Cool Jew, TV, Vh1
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
I SO love New York
In case anyone didn't notice the awesome superfecta of new reality shows Vh1 is ringing in the New Year with, let me just say first that "celebreality" has really outdone itself this season. There is "The Surreal Life Fame Games", aka "the fight to the famousest" (in which C.C. Deville cried because nobody knows who he is), and "Shooting Sizemore," about Tom Sizemore's not-so-triumphant return to acting from such indignities as making a horrible home sex tape prominently featuring the massive "HEIDI" (for his ex, Hollywood Madam and scary-jawed Heidi Fleiss) tattoo over his diminuitive weiner, numerous drug busts, and generally being a coke-addled failure at life, and "The (White) Rapper Show" in which MC Serch of 3rd Bass "Pop Goes the Weasel" fame forces this fat chick to wear a gigantic "N-Word" chain after she attacks a guy calling himself "King of the Burbs" with a dildo. However, while these shows are great, I would be remiss if I didn't declare THIS show the greatest of them all:
That's right. Tiffany "New York" Patterson, the undisputable lunatic bitch from "Flavor of Love" and "Flavor of Love 2", after being summarily rejected by Flavor Flav not once but twice, has her own reality show dedicated to finding the man of her dreams. I don't know if such a thing is possible, considering that New York is certifiably batshit crazy. I consider anyone who wants to sleep with Flavor Flav (much less anyone who shouts "fuck me proper!" while doing so) a little on the insane side, but New York takes it to the next level. For example, watch what happened in "Flavor of Love 2" when New York was invited back by Flav to critique his new troupe of girls. New York immediately turns on the charm, saying things like, "You look like a fairy princess...who resides over the pits of hell."
This is a sort-of lame remixed compilation of New York's greatest "spits", a reference to when New York slapped Pumkin after she spit on her in the original "Flavor of Love" series. I don't know who has time to put shit like this together, and I could do without the fucking "boom boom boom let's go back to my room" soundtrack, but it's a lovely summary of the classy behavior that Vh1's viewers have come to expect from New York:
Anyway, as I said, New York is absolutely certifiable, so I'm all for giving the girl her own show. This show premiered last night, and features a cast of men, all of whom look either like extras from that club in Hustle and Flow where Terrence Howard beat up Ludacris, Kevin Federline, or insurance salesmen. Oh yeah, or they look INCREDIBLY GAY, like "12-pack" the Nick Lachey wannabe who plucks his eyebrows, and "Romance", the guy who disturbingly wants New York to take the place of his late teacup Yorkshire terrier "Princess", presumably because New York has "princess" tattooed on her left tit.
Upon catching a vision of New York in a hot pink minidress, the men say things like "she didn't come from no Cro-Magnon man...a divine wisdom put that together", "New York looked fine as hell...I almost got a woody", and (my favorite) "you makin' my penis hurt." That sounds to me like a bad thing, but the dude who said it was trying to be complimentary. Anyway, the fun comes to a screeching halt when New York's mom shows up, and she's even more crazy than her daughter. During "Flavor of Love 2" she pretended to have a terminal medical condition in order to persuade her daughter to ditch Flav. In "I Love New York", she has decided to be addressed by the title of "Sister" and promptly starts telling everyone they are racist and/or gay.
For example, while interrogating "Mr. Boston," an uber-dork with a voice frighteningly similar to Gilbert Gottfried's, she tricks him into saying that his and New York's hypothetical progeny would look "just like Derek Jeter" and be able to pass for white. She also promptly starts a very vocal beef with "Chance", the guy who looks like a cross between Marlon Wayans and T.I., and who New York "is feeling" on the basis that he's "a thug and an urban brother." New York likes them a little rough around the edges, and apparently, scrawny and unattractive, as well.
Everyone proceeds to get drunk on what appears to be Wild Vines island fruits pinot grigio, and New York and her mother run around chain-smoking Newports, being mean, and causing trouble, and it rules. The Latin dude, named "Rico" for being a "smooth talker", decides to start calling New York "mi negrita," which New York promptly translates as "my little nigger" and thus flips the fuck out. Rico starts crying for being so misunderstood, and for asking to be named after a Gerardo song. Named erroneously, in fact, for he is neither rico nor suave. Chance attempts to apologize to "Sister" Patterson, who goes ballistic and sends him and his Corona Light slinking away in fear. After New York sent "Jersey" (an investment banker), "T-Bone" (a fat man with lazy eyes), and "Wood" (a man with no personality) packing, the scenes from the next indicate that the men will be challenged to play basketball, get into fistfights, and yes, fuck New York. I can't wait.
I do, indeed, love New York.
That's right. Tiffany "New York" Patterson, the undisputable lunatic bitch from "Flavor of Love" and "Flavor of Love 2", after being summarily rejected by Flavor Flav not once but twice, has her own reality show dedicated to finding the man of her dreams. I don't know if such a thing is possible, considering that New York is certifiably batshit crazy. I consider anyone who wants to sleep with Flavor Flav (much less anyone who shouts "fuck me proper!" while doing so) a little on the insane side, but New York takes it to the next level. For example, watch what happened in "Flavor of Love 2" when New York was invited back by Flav to critique his new troupe of girls. New York immediately turns on the charm, saying things like, "You look like a fairy princess...who resides over the pits of hell."
This is a sort-of lame remixed compilation of New York's greatest "spits", a reference to when New York slapped Pumkin after she spit on her in the original "Flavor of Love" series. I don't know who has time to put shit like this together, and I could do without the fucking "boom boom boom let's go back to my room" soundtrack, but it's a lovely summary of the classy behavior that Vh1's viewers have come to expect from New York:
Anyway, as I said, New York is absolutely certifiable, so I'm all for giving the girl her own show. This show premiered last night, and features a cast of men, all of whom look either like extras from that club in Hustle and Flow where Terrence Howard beat up Ludacris, Kevin Federline, or insurance salesmen. Oh yeah, or they look INCREDIBLY GAY, like "12-pack" the Nick Lachey wannabe who plucks his eyebrows, and "Romance", the guy who disturbingly wants New York to take the place of his late teacup Yorkshire terrier "Princess", presumably because New York has "princess" tattooed on her left tit.
Upon catching a vision of New York in a hot pink minidress, the men say things like "she didn't come from no Cro-Magnon man...a divine wisdom put that together", "New York looked fine as hell...I almost got a woody", and (my favorite) "you makin' my penis hurt." That sounds to me like a bad thing, but the dude who said it was trying to be complimentary. Anyway, the fun comes to a screeching halt when New York's mom shows up, and she's even more crazy than her daughter. During "Flavor of Love 2" she pretended to have a terminal medical condition in order to persuade her daughter to ditch Flav. In "I Love New York", she has decided to be addressed by the title of "Sister" and promptly starts telling everyone they are racist and/or gay.
For example, while interrogating "Mr. Boston," an uber-dork with a voice frighteningly similar to Gilbert Gottfried's, she tricks him into saying that his and New York's hypothetical progeny would look "just like Derek Jeter" and be able to pass for white. She also promptly starts a very vocal beef with "Chance", the guy who looks like a cross between Marlon Wayans and T.I., and who New York "is feeling" on the basis that he's "a thug and an urban brother." New York likes them a little rough around the edges, and apparently, scrawny and unattractive, as well.
Everyone proceeds to get drunk on what appears to be Wild Vines island fruits pinot grigio, and New York and her mother run around chain-smoking Newports, being mean, and causing trouble, and it rules. The Latin dude, named "Rico" for being a "smooth talker", decides to start calling New York "mi negrita," which New York promptly translates as "my little nigger" and thus flips the fuck out. Rico starts crying for being so misunderstood, and for asking to be named after a Gerardo song. Named erroneously, in fact, for he is neither rico nor suave. Chance attempts to apologize to "Sister" Patterson, who goes ballistic and sends him and his Corona Light slinking away in fear. After New York sent "Jersey" (an investment banker), "T-Bone" (a fat man with lazy eyes), and "Wood" (a man with no personality) packing, the scenes from the next indicate that the men will be challenged to play basketball, get into fistfights, and yes, fuck New York. I can't wait.
I do, indeed, love New York.
Labels: celebrities, crazies, Flavor of Love, hilarious shit, media whores, ridiculous absurdity, sluts
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Why six packs are better
Because I bought a half-rack yesterday, and Heineken sells such in a box that gives an already drunk (from spending the day talking shit and racing Bud Lights with your incredibly competitive Fantasy Football League) person NO INSIGHT WHATSOEVER regarding how many beers are left in there. When you buy a sixer, you're like, "Hey, I've already had three beers by myself while watching reruns of 'Flavor of Love,' and before that I spent eight hours drinking inexpensive beer, eating deep-fried foods, and talking shit to recently promoted bartenders. I'd better call it a night." When you buy 12 beers in a large, high-sided, dozen-beer case, you just keep drinking until you're like, "Shit. There's only two beers left!" And the next thing you know, you're even drunker. By yourself. Watching "Flavor of Love" (intently) and NFL football (not nearly as intently as you should).
Jesus Herbert Hoover Christ, I'm a loser. But an AWESOME AND REALLY SLUTTY loser, as far as losers go.
Jesus Herbert Hoover Christ, I'm a loser. But an AWESOME AND REALLY SLUTTY loser, as far as losers go.
Labels: alcoholism, Flavor of Love, NFL football
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Highlights from the fall TV season so far
When Karl Marx said that religion is the opiate of the masses, it was only because they hadn't invented television yet. TV fucking rules, especially if you're a perpetually impoverished graduate student pulling 12-hour-days. If I don't have any money to go out drinking, or any energy to do so after laying waste to a shelf's worth of inbred mice, I turn to TV for much-needed relaxation. Tonight, for example, may be Saturday, but since I laid waste to most of the Lower East Side's supply of Johnnie Walker Black last night, I'm staying in to nurse my hangover and flip back and forth between marathon reruns of "Project Runway" and "Flavor of Love." It occurred to me that I'm an expert on shitty TV, so I may as well opine about the audiovisual crack I'm consuming on the old idiot box.
Nip/Tuck
I have been addicted to this show about morally bereft plastic surgeons in Miami since it was introduced right before I moved to New York three years ago. The pilot episode of this show included lines being blown off hot model ass, Colombian drug lords adminstering penile Botox shots, a room full of people being splashed with liposuction fat, and a child molester's body being dumped in the Everglades weighted down with alligator-attracting hams. I was immediately hooked to the weekly drama surrounding Drs. McNamara and Troy.
Furthermore, I completely have the hots for my boyfriend Dr. Christian Troy, because he's so FUCKING fine and is one of the most unrepentant fictional assholes on television. In past seasons, Dr. Troy has traded his girlfriend for a Lamborghini, attended a Sexaholics Anonymous meeting where he promptly and literally blew his sponsor's celibate sobriety, fathered his partners' teenage son, and manage to transform the police investigation of his Carver attack and anal rape into a tawdry threesome.
So far, this season continues to achieve unprecedented levels of awesomeness. Some of the highlights:
America's Next Top Model
I LOVE this show. It is always awesome, because it is full of dumb, bitchy girls, ridiculous judges, and Tyra Banks being a snobby, self-righteous, FAKE idiot. From her horrible orange-toned weaves to her severely overdone diction, Tyra has to be one of the most outrageously insincere women I've ever seen. This season, Tyra has taken her monstrous egotism to the next level, and the entire house that this cycle's girls live in is PLASTERED with Tyra. Everywhere you look, there's a picture of Tyra wearing a scarf, Tyra wearing giant sunglasses, Tyra wearing a sexy dress, Tyra in a bathing suit, Tyra wearing too much makeup, Tyra doing one of her "signature poses," etc. Furthermore, Tyra has placed all these pictures there as a fictional spread for Tyra magazine, right down to a mural in the house featuring a "letter from Tyra" out of the magazine exhorting the prospective Top Models to read the magazine for vital information and tips on Top Modeling. Also, all the "Tyra Mail" this season arrives as a magazine subscription card, rather than the old pastel notecards of cycles past. Clearly this magazine thing is part of her transformation into full-blown Oprah wannabe, and you just know that if the fans like it, Tyra will be yet another unreadable piece of crap taking space away from superior publications like Us Weekly and Star at supermarket checkouts everywhere.
Tyra is attempting to emulate Oprah in one other way as well. Clearly she has not been following the model starvation diet she advocates. She needs to start taking some of the criticism/advice she dispenses every time she opens her mouth and PAY ATTENTION TO HER FUCKING BODY. Bitch has blown up like a balloon this season, and she has a low threshold for hiding extra pounds. She is one of those women who gains weight in her face first, so the second she cheats on her diet, she grows a new chin and gets a serious case of the bloat. On her atrocious talk show, Tyra once put on a fat suit and walked around Los Angeles, then bawled to two actual morbidly obese women about her experience (and the look on their faces was PRICELESS during her "It was soooo horrible, you guys!" tearfest). If Tyra doesn't quit stuffing her face at the craft service table backstage and get her ass on a treadmill, it will be only a matter of time before her fat suit becomes a reality.
Lost
I watch "Lost" primarily because I think that Sayid the Iraqi is really hot in spite of his greasy jhericurl and somewhat pudgy countenance. Besides, it doesn't get more "bad boy" than working as a torturer for Saddam Hussein's Repulican Guard. In addition to Sayid's sexual appeal, I also have seen a lot of the first two seasons, so I was all excited when I thought this Wednesday was going to be the big season premiere. Unfortunately, what the channel guide described as a "new" episode was actually a recut reel of somewhat important scenes to remind people major things that have gone on the past two seasons. While this was somewhat useful to me, as I forgot all the complicated ins and outs regarding the mystery of the island over the summer, I was really annoyed to not find out whether or not failing to enter the numbers at the hatch's Apple IIc caused the cataclysmic destruction of mankind, which is what I expected when the channel guide said this episode was "new." I was pissed.
Last season, "Lost" kind of dragged for awhile. There were way too many boring scenes exploring whether Kate will eventually fuck Jack or Sawyer or both, and Kate's personal baggage, and Jack's issues with his dad and his wife, and Sawyer's vacillating between doing right and being an asshole, and not NEARLY enough Sayid torturing creepy-looking Others or porking moderately attractive petite blondes. However, the last episode was one hell of a money shot as far as revealing important stuff. For example, when the numbers didn't get entered, we know that some serious shit of a magnetic nature happens, and this is why Oceanic flight 815 crashed in the first place. We also find out more about the Others, and they have Jack, Sawyer, and Kate tied up, Michael sailed off with Walt, Sayid found the ruins of a giant Colossus-at-Rhodes type statue of a foot with only four toes, and found out more cryptic and relatively uninformative stuff about Dharma and the Hanso foundation. In spite of myself, I REALLY want to know what the outcome of all this is.
Since I won't be able to see whether the Others kill Jack, Kate, and Sawyer (I know this won't happen, but a girl can dream) until next week, I have some predictions about what's going to happen this season:
Project Runway
"Project Runway" is a reality competition hosted by supermodel Heidi Klum in which aspiring fashion designers compete in weekly design challenges for the chance to show a collection at Olympus Fashion Week in New York. The designers are all bitchy, and it's fun to watch them bicker while they design often shitty and ridiculous clothing. The eliminated designer every week gets informed by Klum that "they're out" and air-kisses them off with a fond "auf wiedersehn."
The designers have now been winnowed down to four people who will be showing their collections at Fashion Week.
First there is Laura, the architect/baby factory who only makes beaded cocktail dresses for flatchested people. For an example of "classic Laura," check out the portrait of the artist herself:
Then there is Jeffrey, the hipster idiot who looks like a hellish cross between my cokehead ex-boyfriend Tod-With-One-D and Travis Barker, erstwhile Blink 182 drummer and current Paris Hilton fuckbuddy. Jeffrey is so annoying, because he is not only a complete prick, but he has the worst weak chin ever. His jawline looks like an undesirable ass, a combination of too much cleft and flat, amorphous proportions:
Also in the mix is Uli, the German who designs beach mumus for women in Miami and specializes in seizure-inducing patterned fabrics with lots of chunky braid:
Finally, there is my personal favorite. Michael Knight, this Hotlanta-born fashion thug, both shares his name with David Hasselhoff's character in "Knight Rider" and manages to design some hot urban casual wear. Also, he always will follow ghetto sensibility like "I'm not tryin' to play Captain Save-a-Ho, as we say in the hood" with lengthy complaints about the difficulties of pattern cutting , the temperamental nature of bobbin threads, and the technical trickery of hand-ruching:
As much as I get into the designers' drama and hope that Michael lays waste to Jeffrey's "deconstructed" bullshit and Uli's jungle wear, the real reason to watch this show is this:
The judges, "top American fashion designer" Michael Kors and Elle magazine fashion director Nina Garcia, are fabulously bitchy. Kors will always sneer distastefully at outfits he hates, and then makes some obnoxious yet usually accurate succinct description such as "she looks like a paper brioche" and "it looks like a grade school Thanksgiving pageant exploded all over her ass." It's fucking awesome when some designer sends an ambitious yet stank outfit down the runway, and Michael Kors glowers with righteous revulsion for a moment before declaring in his nasal tenor that "it looks like Comme des Garcons goes to the Amish country." Usually, then Nina will chime in to inform the designer that it's either tired, blatantly copied from some established edgy designer, and/or made with a terrible choice of fabric. Although Heidi Klum has her moments of bitchiness (like the time she said, "Would I rather look old or like a fat Minnie Mouse?"), Michael Kors and Nina Garcia have mastered the art of concise brutality in reality show judging.
Survivor
I don't even know why I watch "Survivor" except that I have for 11 seasons now, and it's almost like I only watch it out of habit. "Survivor" is always kind of boring, and Jeff Probst is an overdimpled, badly styled douche, but I always watch it anyway. I love some of the gimmicks that they incorporate to keep the show fresh. This season, they not only have hidden an immunity idol on the Exile Island, but they've organized the tribes down racial lines. I've been either busy or working the late the past few weeks on Thursdays, so I only saw the end of last week's episode to see how "Survivor" segregation was coming along. During the few minutes I did see, some Asian guy found the hidden immunity idol using geometry, and the Latinos threw a challenge so they could turn on the fat, slow, lazy, snoring guy and vote his ass out. This week, the "great social experiment" of racially segregating the "Survivor" tribes ended, and they mixed up and merged all the teams into two integrated tribes (with, of course, new hideous buffs for each tribe member to wear as tube top, bandeau, skirt, turban, arm garter, or scrunchie). I guess segregation, despite the producers' expectations, did not result in reality drama or high ratings.
Supernatural
Okay, I don't know how I've ended KIND OF watching "Supernatural," but I've seen a few episodes, mainly because I despise "CSI" and nothing else is on Thursdays at 9, and I flip back and forth between it and the equally shiteous "Grey's Anatomy" (see below). Bravo is a shitshow in this time slot, by the way. Last Thursday, they had "Cirque Du Soleil: Corteo", described by the channel guide as "a festive parade imagined by a clown," followed by "Cirque Du Soleil: Varekai", which is an "acrobatic tribute to the spirit of the nomadic soul." Watching these shows would inspire me to stick my head in the oven if it wasn't already occupied by a Lean Cuisine French bread pizza.
Anyway, "Supernatural" is a stupid show starring Jared Padalecki, late of "Gilmore Girls", and some guy who was on some other crappy WB show about teenagers. They are demon-hunting brothers who drive around the midwest in a late sixties model Impala listening to classic rock and killing demons flagrantly plagiarized from recent semi-popular horror movies and old "Buffy" episodes (ie: girl crawls out of mirror looking all Japanese ghosty, painting comes to life and kills people, scarecrow comes out of hibernation every twenty-third spring to eat nubile young couples, etc). Every episode involves Jared and the other guy pulling up to some town in buttfuck Indiana while rocking out to Bad Company. Once there, they realize that some supernatural shit is afoot and investigate, which typically involves impersonating everything from FBI agents to archaeologists to coroners to dead people's relatives. This investigation will result in them identifying their paranormal foe, and disclose that a hot girl is next to be eaten/absorbed/murdered/vaporized/damned eternally/etc. The brothers will probably also bicker, have flashbacks to their childhood, and have drama with their errant demon-hunting father. They will subsequently whip out either their BlackBerries (which they have tricked out, despite both of them being presumably unemployed save for unsolicited and unpaid psychic detective work) or their silver bullets or whatever, save the hot girl in the nick of time, and take turns making out with her. They'll make up from the fight they had earlier, crank the Foghat, and cruise off high-fiving and making overdone references to popular culture.
Like I said before, it's better than "CSI."
Grey's Anatomy
This show sucks, and I watch it primarily to give my unchecked rage a harmless outlet. This show is all about a bunch of surgeons and the drama that has resulted from them all having sex with each other. Complicating matters is the fact that they all live in Seattle, which makes them a bunch of snivelling, whiny crybabies. Consistent with their Seattle-dwelling status, the guys are all such a bunch of unscrubbed, emotionally processive tools that Patrick Dempsey and Chris O'Donnell are dueling for the title of resident hunks. That's exactly why I moved away from the Seattle area. Who wants to choose between fucking the index Ebola case from Outbreak and the latently homosexual Robin in one of the later Batman movies? Another thing I like about the show is that Sandra Oh's character was SMITH COLLEGE CLASS OF 2000! That means that when her character was in college and came out of her room to grouchily inform me and my drunken friends that it was "quiet hours" and could we please turn down the Dr. Dre and go smoke in our rooms because she has a test in her women's studies class the next day, I blew a bong hit in her face and told her to go boobmash with her roommate.
That is where any attempt at realism in "Grey's Anatomy," ends, however. There are a lot of things about "Grey's Anatomy" that make you audibly say "what the fuck?" First off, I'd like to point out that there are at least three black people in the cast, which anyone from Seattle can tell you comprises Seattle's ENTIRE African-American population excluding professional athletes. Second, all the doctors on this show are too busy having sex to actually perform any surgeries. They have sex with each other, sex with the nurses, sex with their roommates, sex with patients, etc. The sex scenes are always lame (usually consisting of Katherine Heigl in a fugly Playtex Cross Your Heart bra with either a dying person or that doctor whose name I can never remember) and seem to occur everywhere in the hospital: in the locker room, in the nurses' station, on random out-of-the-way gurneys, in the break room, in patient beds, etc. While normally I'd be a fan of a show with so much sex happening, most of it is implied except scenes involving the aforementioned breasts of Katherine Heigl, Patrick Dempsey's suspiciously trannish wife, or the skeletal and horribly aged Meredith Grey who is the title character. You can probably see why, in this time slot, I usually opt for "Supernatural."
Flavor of Love
Why any woman would want to bone Flavor Flav is beyond me. He's like a hobbit from the hood, and despite his charming, funny mannerisms, there is no way in hell I'd let his little weiner get anywhere near me. However, there are apparently a lot of women who wouldn't mind, and they are some nasty bitches all stuck together in the house. The final three (Deelishis, Krazy, and New York) are three of the most ridiculous women ever. Krazy is obviously trying to get her music career off the ground (watch out, Flav, you don't want a repeat of what Hoopz did to you), Deelishis looks like a man despite having an ass that defies physics, and New York, resurrected from last season, is a complete and total lunatic. I was rooting for Bootz, but Flav canned her last episode because she said she wasn't going to put out until she got married, despite giving a very slutty booty dance to Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, and the guys from Three 6 Mafia. However, now that it's down to the three, I'm going to have say I'm putting my money on Deelishis. Despite her somewhat gender bending facial bone structure and hideously disfiguring scars on her back, she isn't seemingly an attention whore, and appears slightly more stable mentally than New York. Go Deelishis!
Now I can't write anymore, as I have to watch some more TV.
Nip/Tuck
I have been addicted to this show about morally bereft plastic surgeons in Miami since it was introduced right before I moved to New York three years ago. The pilot episode of this show included lines being blown off hot model ass, Colombian drug lords adminstering penile Botox shots, a room full of people being splashed with liposuction fat, and a child molester's body being dumped in the Everglades weighted down with alligator-attracting hams. I was immediately hooked to the weekly drama surrounding Drs. McNamara and Troy.
Furthermore, I completely have the hots for my boyfriend Dr. Christian Troy, because he's so FUCKING fine and is one of the most unrepentant fictional assholes on television. In past seasons, Dr. Troy has traded his girlfriend for a Lamborghini, attended a Sexaholics Anonymous meeting where he promptly and literally blew his sponsor's celibate sobriety, fathered his partners' teenage son, and manage to transform the police investigation of his Carver attack and anal rape into a tawdry threesome.
So far, this season continues to achieve unprecedented levels of awesomeness. Some of the highlights:
- Christian is questioning his heterosexuality, and has engaged in several portentous flirting sessions with...A.C. SLATER FROM "SAVED BY THE BELL"?! Yep, that's right. Mario Lopez is guest-starring as another latently faggoty plastic surgeon and they already had an ass-admiring session in the gym showers where they discussed protein shakes and whether liposuction is necessary for more defined "cum gutters" (abdominal muscles). I can't wait until the episode when he and Christian exchange head in Mario Lopez's Ferrari.
- Sean and Julia's new baby has some condition called "ectrodactyly", more commonly known as LOBSTER CLAW HANDS. They're acting like assholes all the time adjusting to the kid's disability, and they just hired a male midget as a nanny, and it's any episode now before Julia hooks up with him.
- After being overpowered by the music of Oasis, Sean banged the ugly nanny, then gave her a gratis nose job so she'd keep it quiet. However, she's probably not going to, because she's obviously insane. I predict that she'll be stalking him frantically within two episodes.
- Christian bones a mother and daughter at the same time, then gets into a fight with them over who is more morally bankrupt.
- Kathleen Turner guest stars as a phone sex operator who needs a larynx shaving to stay sexy-sounding even though she now looks like a bloated old toad.
- Christian was clandestinely recorded making a sex video and it "went viral" after showing up on YouTube.
- Matt, having already achieved new levels of dumbassery by acting like a wuss when he got caught having a threesome, not being wise to Famke Janssen's actually being a man (although to be fair she was the most convincing post-op M2F tranny EVER), beating up transgendered people, and becoming a Nazi, has now decided that Scientology is his calling. Granted, it's not entirely his fault that he's so fucked up, as Julia lied to him and everybody else for 16 years that Sean was his father when Christian really was, but seriously. Is Matt ever going to stop being an effeminate douche with the worst teenage coping skills ever, or what?
- Liz the lesbo anesthesiologist gets slipped a roofie at some lesbian bar and winds up short a kidney.
- Sean eats hash brownies and has visions of Escobar Gallardo.
- A patient who I later realized was the aged child star who played Laura on "Little House on the Prairie" gets her nipple bitten off while fucking her pit bull mix.
- Sean and Christian sold the practice after medical business mogul and prostate cancer survivor Larry Hagman and his hot ex-lesbian hooker wife Sanaa Lathan (late of Alien vs. Predator) liked the testicular implants the doctors gave him. Sanaa Lathan's management style, which includes providing payoffs and breast access to her former madam, attempting to fire Liz for sexual harassment, and stocking the office with expensive espresso machines, is wreaking havoc with Sean and Christian's respective control issues. Christian responds by using his knowledge of her sordid past as a prostitute to extort sex from her.
America's Next Top Model
I LOVE this show. It is always awesome, because it is full of dumb, bitchy girls, ridiculous judges, and Tyra Banks being a snobby, self-righteous, FAKE idiot. From her horrible orange-toned weaves to her severely overdone diction, Tyra has to be one of the most outrageously insincere women I've ever seen. This season, Tyra has taken her monstrous egotism to the next level, and the entire house that this cycle's girls live in is PLASTERED with Tyra. Everywhere you look, there's a picture of Tyra wearing a scarf, Tyra wearing giant sunglasses, Tyra wearing a sexy dress, Tyra in a bathing suit, Tyra wearing too much makeup, Tyra doing one of her "signature poses," etc. Furthermore, Tyra has placed all these pictures there as a fictional spread for Tyra magazine, right down to a mural in the house featuring a "letter from Tyra" out of the magazine exhorting the prospective Top Models to read the magazine for vital information and tips on Top Modeling. Also, all the "Tyra Mail" this season arrives as a magazine subscription card, rather than the old pastel notecards of cycles past. Clearly this magazine thing is part of her transformation into full-blown Oprah wannabe, and you just know that if the fans like it, Tyra will be yet another unreadable piece of crap taking space away from superior publications like Us Weekly and Star at supermarket checkouts everywhere.
Tyra is attempting to emulate Oprah in one other way as well. Clearly she has not been following the model starvation diet she advocates. She needs to start taking some of the criticism/advice she dispenses every time she opens her mouth and PAY ATTENTION TO HER FUCKING BODY. Bitch has blown up like a balloon this season, and she has a low threshold for hiding extra pounds. She is one of those women who gains weight in her face first, so the second she cheats on her diet, she grows a new chin and gets a serious case of the bloat. On her atrocious talk show, Tyra once put on a fat suit and walked around Los Angeles, then bawled to two actual morbidly obese women about her experience (and the look on their faces was PRICELESS during her "It was soooo horrible, you guys!" tearfest). If Tyra doesn't quit stuffing her face at the craft service table backstage and get her ass on a treadmill, it will be only a matter of time before her fat suit becomes a reality.
Lost
I watch "Lost" primarily because I think that Sayid the Iraqi is really hot in spite of his greasy jhericurl and somewhat pudgy countenance. Besides, it doesn't get more "bad boy" than working as a torturer for Saddam Hussein's Repulican Guard. In addition to Sayid's sexual appeal, I also have seen a lot of the first two seasons, so I was all excited when I thought this Wednesday was going to be the big season premiere. Unfortunately, what the channel guide described as a "new" episode was actually a recut reel of somewhat important scenes to remind people major things that have gone on the past two seasons. While this was somewhat useful to me, as I forgot all the complicated ins and outs regarding the mystery of the island over the summer, I was really annoyed to not find out whether or not failing to enter the numbers at the hatch's Apple IIc caused the cataclysmic destruction of mankind, which is what I expected when the channel guide said this episode was "new." I was pissed.
Last season, "Lost" kind of dragged for awhile. There were way too many boring scenes exploring whether Kate will eventually fuck Jack or Sawyer or both, and Kate's personal baggage, and Jack's issues with his dad and his wife, and Sawyer's vacillating between doing right and being an asshole, and not NEARLY enough Sayid torturing creepy-looking Others or porking moderately attractive petite blondes. However, the last episode was one hell of a money shot as far as revealing important stuff. For example, when the numbers didn't get entered, we know that some serious shit of a magnetic nature happens, and this is why Oceanic flight 815 crashed in the first place. We also find out more about the Others, and they have Jack, Sawyer, and Kate tied up, Michael sailed off with Walt, Sayid found the ruins of a giant Colossus-at-Rhodes type statue of a foot with only four toes, and found out more cryptic and relatively uninformative stuff about Dharma and the Hanso foundation. In spite of myself, I REALLY want to know what the outcome of all this is.
Since I won't be able to see whether the Others kill Jack, Kate, and Sawyer (I know this won't happen, but a girl can dream) until next week, I have some predictions about what's going to happen this season:
- Michael and Walt will totally not get rescued. Instead, they will foolishly follow the Others' navigational advice and end up either back on the island or somewhere worse. Because the "Lost" writers love to prove how useful their fucking liberal arts degrees are by throwing in lots of heavy-handed intellectual references, I predict they'll encounter some obviously Odyssean peril, like a witch who look like Michael's dead heartless bitch of an international lawyer who turns overcompensating deadbeat dads with anger management issues into pigs, or a cannibal cyclops.
- Jack, Kate, and Sawyer are interrogated and subjected to totally unnecessary, poorly executed and nonsensical medical tests conducted by the Others. When the Other leader they knew as Henry Gale questions them, Kate just shuts up and glares mournfully, Jack gets all square-jawed and reminds everyone several times that he's a doctor, and Sawyer delivers inappropriate quips in his "Dukes of Hazzard"-inspired cracker accent. Then they stage an insurgency and manage to escape, but spend the rest of the season suspecting that the Others implanted them all with anal probes, just to make their lives suck even more. That's what I would do, if I was an Other.
- Charlie, ersatz junkie/Driveshaft bassist, will go back on the smack when not helping Mr. Eko do his dirty self-redemption work. Claire will yell at him, imply that he's being a bad stepfather to her baby, or otherwise upset him, and he'll be breaking open virgin mary statues like they're eggs and he's making a giant heroin omelette.
- Mr. Eko will die. Adewale Super Nigerian Last Name-hyphenated-Super Nigerian Last Name, the actor who plays Mr. Eko, had a tangle with the Honolulu police. Although the charge was dropped, "Lost" producers get really nervous when they have cast members getting into skirmishes with the Hawaii 5-0. Michelle Rodriguez and that busted blonde chick both got DUIs and their characters were promptly shot to death. Therefore, Mr. Eko will be killed in a sudden way to avoid the mere appearance of impropriety regarding the integrity of the "Lost" cast ensemble.
- Sayid, without any eligible slutty blondes around to impress with his dark mystique, will let himself go, become BFFs with Charlie the Junkie Hobbit, and start doing gay shit like this:
- The failure to enter the numbers on time which caused the counter thingy to go all hieroglyphic and cranked up the supposedly apocalypse-causing magnet results in another plane crash. A whole new crowd of plane crash survivors start mingling with the gang from Oceanic 815. This cast of characters includes a world-ending magnetologist, a brooding and reserved loner type named Thomas Hobbes who argues with Locke about property rights, social structure, and the nature of man, and a plastic surgeon who both threatens Jack's masculinity and gives Hurley the gynecomastia man tit-removal surgery he so desperately needs.
- In the course of being tortured/experimented upon by the Others, Kate wastes an entire episode reflecting on her past as the most boring international fugitive in the history of criminal vigilante justice, her love for horses, her dysfunctional trailer park family problems, and feelings for Jack AND Sawyer. The Others, like the television viewing audience, are so sick of her that they destroy her ovaries to ensure that she'll never pass her woeful genes on to any possible offspring that might result from the inevitable Jack-Sawyer train she'll be running.
- The four-toed foot turns out to be a relic of an ancient civilization that worshipped "The Simpsons," and were going to cover the island with gargantuan statues of every Matt Groening caricature ever drawn, until the magnet or whatever went off. It turns out the magnet was put there as a trap by the people from Easter Island, who were looking to dominate the south Pacific inexplicable stone idol market.
- Sun will have her baby, which will turn out to be half-black, which will make Jin go all half-cocked, break out his battering skills from his days as a Korean Soprano, and fuck up Michael, Mr. Eko, or any other person with high levels of melanin in their skin to cross his path.
Project Runway
"Project Runway" is a reality competition hosted by supermodel Heidi Klum in which aspiring fashion designers compete in weekly design challenges for the chance to show a collection at Olympus Fashion Week in New York. The designers are all bitchy, and it's fun to watch them bicker while they design often shitty and ridiculous clothing. The eliminated designer every week gets informed by Klum that "they're out" and air-kisses them off with a fond "auf wiedersehn."
The designers have now been winnowed down to four people who will be showing their collections at Fashion Week.
First there is Laura, the architect/baby factory who only makes beaded cocktail dresses for flatchested people. For an example of "classic Laura," check out the portrait of the artist herself:
Then there is Jeffrey, the hipster idiot who looks like a hellish cross between my cokehead ex-boyfriend Tod-With-One-D and Travis Barker, erstwhile Blink 182 drummer and current Paris Hilton fuckbuddy. Jeffrey is so annoying, because he is not only a complete prick, but he has the worst weak chin ever. His jawline looks like an undesirable ass, a combination of too much cleft and flat, amorphous proportions:
Also in the mix is Uli, the German who designs beach mumus for women in Miami and specializes in seizure-inducing patterned fabrics with lots of chunky braid:
Finally, there is my personal favorite. Michael Knight, this Hotlanta-born fashion thug, both shares his name with David Hasselhoff's character in "Knight Rider" and manages to design some hot urban casual wear. Also, he always will follow ghetto sensibility like "I'm not tryin' to play Captain Save-a-Ho, as we say in the hood" with lengthy complaints about the difficulties of pattern cutting , the temperamental nature of bobbin threads, and the technical trickery of hand-ruching:
As much as I get into the designers' drama and hope that Michael lays waste to Jeffrey's "deconstructed" bullshit and Uli's jungle wear, the real reason to watch this show is this:
The judges, "top American fashion designer" Michael Kors and Elle magazine fashion director Nina Garcia, are fabulously bitchy. Kors will always sneer distastefully at outfits he hates, and then makes some obnoxious yet usually accurate succinct description such as "she looks like a paper brioche" and "it looks like a grade school Thanksgiving pageant exploded all over her ass." It's fucking awesome when some designer sends an ambitious yet stank outfit down the runway, and Michael Kors glowers with righteous revulsion for a moment before declaring in his nasal tenor that "it looks like Comme des Garcons goes to the Amish country." Usually, then Nina will chime in to inform the designer that it's either tired, blatantly copied from some established edgy designer, and/or made with a terrible choice of fabric. Although Heidi Klum has her moments of bitchiness (like the time she said, "Would I rather look old or like a fat Minnie Mouse?"), Michael Kors and Nina Garcia have mastered the art of concise brutality in reality show judging.
Survivor
I don't even know why I watch "Survivor" except that I have for 11 seasons now, and it's almost like I only watch it out of habit. "Survivor" is always kind of boring, and Jeff Probst is an overdimpled, badly styled douche, but I always watch it anyway. I love some of the gimmicks that they incorporate to keep the show fresh. This season, they not only have hidden an immunity idol on the Exile Island, but they've organized the tribes down racial lines. I've been either busy or working the late the past few weeks on Thursdays, so I only saw the end of last week's episode to see how "Survivor" segregation was coming along. During the few minutes I did see, some Asian guy found the hidden immunity idol using geometry, and the Latinos threw a challenge so they could turn on the fat, slow, lazy, snoring guy and vote his ass out. This week, the "great social experiment" of racially segregating the "Survivor" tribes ended, and they mixed up and merged all the teams into two integrated tribes (with, of course, new hideous buffs for each tribe member to wear as tube top, bandeau, skirt, turban, arm garter, or scrunchie). I guess segregation, despite the producers' expectations, did not result in reality drama or high ratings.
Supernatural
Okay, I don't know how I've ended KIND OF watching "Supernatural," but I've seen a few episodes, mainly because I despise "CSI" and nothing else is on Thursdays at 9, and I flip back and forth between it and the equally shiteous "Grey's Anatomy" (see below). Bravo is a shitshow in this time slot, by the way. Last Thursday, they had "Cirque Du Soleil: Corteo", described by the channel guide as "a festive parade imagined by a clown," followed by "Cirque Du Soleil: Varekai", which is an "acrobatic tribute to the spirit of the nomadic soul." Watching these shows would inspire me to stick my head in the oven if it wasn't already occupied by a Lean Cuisine French bread pizza.
Anyway, "Supernatural" is a stupid show starring Jared Padalecki, late of "Gilmore Girls", and some guy who was on some other crappy WB show about teenagers. They are demon-hunting brothers who drive around the midwest in a late sixties model Impala listening to classic rock and killing demons flagrantly plagiarized from recent semi-popular horror movies and old "Buffy" episodes (ie: girl crawls out of mirror looking all Japanese ghosty, painting comes to life and kills people, scarecrow comes out of hibernation every twenty-third spring to eat nubile young couples, etc). Every episode involves Jared and the other guy pulling up to some town in buttfuck Indiana while rocking out to Bad Company. Once there, they realize that some supernatural shit is afoot and investigate, which typically involves impersonating everything from FBI agents to archaeologists to coroners to dead people's relatives. This investigation will result in them identifying their paranormal foe, and disclose that a hot girl is next to be eaten/absorbed/murdered/vaporized/damned eternally/etc. The brothers will probably also bicker, have flashbacks to their childhood, and have drama with their errant demon-hunting father. They will subsequently whip out either their BlackBerries (which they have tricked out, despite both of them being presumably unemployed save for unsolicited and unpaid psychic detective work) or their silver bullets or whatever, save the hot girl in the nick of time, and take turns making out with her. They'll make up from the fight they had earlier, crank the Foghat, and cruise off high-fiving and making overdone references to popular culture.
Like I said before, it's better than "CSI."
Grey's Anatomy
This show sucks, and I watch it primarily to give my unchecked rage a harmless outlet. This show is all about a bunch of surgeons and the drama that has resulted from them all having sex with each other. Complicating matters is the fact that they all live in Seattle, which makes them a bunch of snivelling, whiny crybabies. Consistent with their Seattle-dwelling status, the guys are all such a bunch of unscrubbed, emotionally processive tools that Patrick Dempsey and Chris O'Donnell are dueling for the title of resident hunks. That's exactly why I moved away from the Seattle area. Who wants to choose between fucking the index Ebola case from Outbreak and the latently homosexual Robin in one of the later Batman movies? Another thing I like about the show is that Sandra Oh's character was SMITH COLLEGE CLASS OF 2000! That means that when her character was in college and came out of her room to grouchily inform me and my drunken friends that it was "quiet hours" and could we please turn down the Dr. Dre and go smoke in our rooms because she has a test in her women's studies class the next day, I blew a bong hit in her face and told her to go boobmash with her roommate.
That is where any attempt at realism in "Grey's Anatomy," ends, however. There are a lot of things about "Grey's Anatomy" that make you audibly say "what the fuck?" First off, I'd like to point out that there are at least three black people in the cast, which anyone from Seattle can tell you comprises Seattle's ENTIRE African-American population excluding professional athletes. Second, all the doctors on this show are too busy having sex to actually perform any surgeries. They have sex with each other, sex with the nurses, sex with their roommates, sex with patients, etc. The sex scenes are always lame (usually consisting of Katherine Heigl in a fugly Playtex Cross Your Heart bra with either a dying person or that doctor whose name I can never remember) and seem to occur everywhere in the hospital: in the locker room, in the nurses' station, on random out-of-the-way gurneys, in the break room, in patient beds, etc. While normally I'd be a fan of a show with so much sex happening, most of it is implied except scenes involving the aforementioned breasts of Katherine Heigl, Patrick Dempsey's suspiciously trannish wife, or the skeletal and horribly aged Meredith Grey who is the title character. You can probably see why, in this time slot, I usually opt for "Supernatural."
Flavor of Love
Why any woman would want to bone Flavor Flav is beyond me. He's like a hobbit from the hood, and despite his charming, funny mannerisms, there is no way in hell I'd let his little weiner get anywhere near me. However, there are apparently a lot of women who wouldn't mind, and they are some nasty bitches all stuck together in the house. The final three (Deelishis, Krazy, and New York) are three of the most ridiculous women ever. Krazy is obviously trying to get her music career off the ground (watch out, Flav, you don't want a repeat of what Hoopz did to you), Deelishis looks like a man despite having an ass that defies physics, and New York, resurrected from last season, is a complete and total lunatic. I was rooting for Bootz, but Flav canned her last episode because she said she wasn't going to put out until she got married, despite giving a very slutty booty dance to Lloyd Banks, Young Buck, and the guys from Three 6 Mafia. However, now that it's down to the three, I'm going to have say I'm putting my money on Deelishis. Despite her somewhat gender bending facial bone structure and hideously disfiguring scars on her back, she isn't seemingly an attention whore, and appears slightly more stable mentally than New York. Go Deelishis!
Now I can't write anymore, as I have to watch some more TV.
Labels: America's Next Top Model, Flavor of Love, Grey's Anatomy, I LOVE IT, Lost, Nip/Tuck, Project Runway, Supernatural, Survivor, TV
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