America’s Next Top Model
In case you missed last night’s America’s Next Top Model, thanks to our Intern J. Harvey, you didn’t miss a thing. Grab a cup of coffee, and read the play by play.
Previously……Gina’s a wet rag of insecurity. Jade is not in the running for America’s Next Top Best Friend in pink panties, a makeshift burka and an attitude. Wendy finally got the okay to track down her water-logged parents. And the models had to pose in arctic temperatures, causing the viewer to wonder “does a model dying of hypothermia count as being kicked out of the running for America’s Next Top Model?”
Wendy’s gone to do what she should have done months ago – namely rescue her goddamn parents from a natural disaster as opposed to get her selfish ass on a cheesy reality show where no way in hell is a girl with her nose going to be ANTM. Seriously, do you think her parents’ debris raft finally beached itself, and they got to a shelter and one of the administrators had a little black and white tv on? And it was turned to UPN on a Wednesday night, and they saw Tyra Banks on the screen and for a second they felt their spirits lighten…just a bit…and then they see their fucking daughter telling Tyra she had to find the strength to do this just for them, in their memory? Because she doesn’t know where they are? And they were like “what the fuck? Why did that bitch not get her ass down here, rent a hovercraft and find US?!?!?” Yeah, I thought so too.
Brooke and her shovel-mouth tell us that all the girls figured Jade would be in the bottom two last week because she makes a lot of excuses to the judges. We sepia-tone to Nigel Barker telling Jade that her excuses about heavy eye-makeup won’t cut it all the while eye fucking the stuffing out of her. And everyone else in the room – be they male, female or trans. He’s such a hound. Jade and Furonda discuss what a humbling experience being in front of the judges is. Jade still has that beautiful scarfy burka thing on her head, so she must REALLY hate the Sun-in. She declares that she has to step up her “gizame”.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, my future best friend Danielle and tesseract of neurosis Gina lament how dirty the kitchen is. Well, actually Gina does. Danielle just kind of tries to talk her crazy ass down. Bitch, the kitchen ain’t that dirty. You need to worry about more important things. Like sharpening a toothbrush into a shank that you can stick into Jade’s back because you know that bitch is bringing you down.
Danielle instructs Gina to develop a thick skin, blah blah blah this is all for the cameras and I could give a dick about how you fare in your sad existence. Danielle says “well, I don’t know what you been through in your life…” and Gina LEAPS in with “not much!” Oh lordy. Why doesn’t she just rip her spine out and hand it to people? Jesus. Gina stares desperately at her, trying to glean any scraps of advice, or know-how or dignity that she can from this proud sista. Danielle rues to the camera that she’s cool with giving Gina advice now and then, but get the fuck up offa her jock! Damn! Gina informs her that she will watch her shower, and she’s trying to be all playful and stuff but Danielle isn’t having it. “No, you don’t watch me take showers,” Danielle informs Gina via confessional interview for her to watch and glean from later, and cautions “don’t be all up in my zone.” Danielle is going to be my new best friend, and I completely admire her diplomacy. Because if I was taking a shower, and this sad little acne-faced girl was staring at me, needing a hug and advice, and for someone to carry her ass through life…I wouldn’t have been so calm. I would have hit her with my loofah on a stick and dialed 911.
Tyra Mail tells the herd that tomorrow is the day that “trains may collide” and I now know I’m gay as gay can be because I immediately thought of drag queens in bridalwear punching each other. But no – it’s MISS JAY! My other future best friend! And she wants those girls to be able to “slinky ink down that runway” otherwise you may “stinky stink”. Take notes, girls. Miss Jay is entombed in a black America’s Next Top Model tube dress. God bless her for being the most fabulous billboard for a UPN show ever. And probably the most expensive one.
The girls don high heels and then dresses and work. Some are good, some are bad. Ok, none are good and some are beneath bad somewhere around “anguished”. Miss Jay gets my approval because he seems to sense that this is all hilarious bullshit but he just kinda comes to work and does his job. Also, he’s the only intentional humor that this show provides us. I could watch him for hours. Is anything funnier than when a jaded gay mid-trans man tiredly mimics and degrades teenage reality whores? But with genuine caring and concern? It’s funny. but with a message.
Future Maxim model and tour bus party doll Kari stumbles her ass down the runway multiple times and her Kewpie doll lips and strong previous photos ain’t helping her outta this one. And my future best friend Danielle trips it up too. Who cares? She still looks hot. That girl works so damn hard. And she’s not a bitch about it. I mean, she’s not going to raise your children after you succumb or anything but she can endure people like Gina. And that’s some feed the lepers in Calcutta patience, right there. And her fall is so arty, She breaks into a creep, then mimics a DJ on the wheels of steel, all the while retaining her balance and dignity. Miss Jay thinks Jade’s spirit has been broken and Jade Quaaludes to the camera that she is “in a shell and needs to open up again”. Her interview is complete with heavy-lidded eyes and a phoenix rising from the ashes arm and hand motions. And it looks like the herb is helping her with that shell opening. Gina walks with a stiff bounce and informs us that she is shy, nervous and has no self-esteem. Just fucking wear it on a t-shirt!
Kari’s gone. Ya know why? She phones home and cries. Someone should make a chart.
Tyra Mail consists of the two entomological words for Madagascar Hissing Cockroach. They think they’re going to Spain or going to have fat asses. Both would have been preferable to having to walk for Tim Burton’s little brother with the rotisserie spikes coming out of his head. The judges? The rest of the club kids from Disco 2000 who Michael Alig SHOULD HAVE offed.
The girls need to sport his gothy doily monster creations while taming the hissing cockroaches attached to them via tiny chain leashes. Some bloom under this ridiculousness. Jade takes a brief leave from the island unto herself to wow the sad ass club kids by kissing her roach. Gina, on the other hand? Screaming mimi. So much so that the Suicide Girl looking backstage chick cautions her to “not grab my arm” while she’s planting a roach on her boob. Tim Burton’s younger brother has to push her wailing ass out onto the runway. Sad.
Jade sweeps it, so I guess this means she will be canoodling with more scaly creatures in the future. There’s a Nigel Barker joke in here somewhere.
That goddamn oompahloompah looking Mr. Jay oranges in to tell the girls that they are going to have to be shot while falling and dressed as fairy tale characters. Who comes up with this shit? Twiggy’s not brilliant enough.
Mostly the costumes consist of whorish rhumba panties with accessories. Can I just stop here and say that Mollie Sue blows me away? She is a block of wood who can’t walk, but she can just stand there and be the whole Velvet Goldmine for me. She’s Jonathan Rhys Meyers without a penis. Which means she’s Jonathan Rhys Meyers. She needs to have heart stickers under here eyes and be drinking absinthe backstage with Marc Bolan.
Jade and Gina square off some more. Jade shoved a cockroach in her face, and then made funny faces while she was falling and being shot (only with a camera unfortunately). I think the smackdown is coming. And it’s not going to be one of those special episodes where the victim takes down the bully. I’m picturing Gina in a locked garage with the telltale rosy blush of carbon monoxide poisoning adorning her high cheekbones.
Tyra finally pops up to torture these bitches for the final time this week. We’ve had freezing temperatures and cockroaches. And now? Broken ankles. Seriously. This bitch makes the girls clod down the judging chamber runway in towering goddamn inferno platform heels. Like the kind where if you fall in them, snap go ya ankles. And snap they do. My future best friend and “Snow Black” Danielle displaces her pinky toe. And Tyra has the monumental balls to complain about how nerve-racking the judging was and how she was “holding her breath the entire time”. Well, at least your pinky toe is still in the right place! And I know there’s a scared part of her that thinks part of the Banks fortune might have to be parlayed towards a certain Miss Danielle and her little piggy. And hopefully Danielle gets ALL of Tyra’s money and we have a new host next year that won’t do that weird go between down home sista and scary news anchor head thingy during the judging.
The photos are picked through and is there anyone in the room that Nigel doesn’t want to nail? I seriously wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t ridden up on Miss Jay’s ass in the elevator. Kari bursts into tears during the picture judging and is basically told to lose some pounds off her fat ass if she ever wants to be a model. Or ever walk upright correctly as opposed to the slouching pudgy hairless ape that they believe her to be. And Miss Jay and Nigel discuss the proper pronunciation of “petri dish”. I think Miss Jay, like the rest of us, is tired of Nigel comparing Furonda to aliens.
We’re down to Kari and Gina. Tyra tells Gina to stop smiling. Which obviously is what she’s been told her entire life and is the cruz of all her issues. So Tyra repeating the cycle of abuse just wasn’t cool. Kari gets the boot, and packs up her shit. So long, Kewpie Doll.
Next week – Janice is back, and obviously needs money for Percocets. And Gina stands up to Jade.This should be funny.