part one:
part two:
part three:
part four:
part five:
dimanche 12 avril 2009
samedi 11 avril 2009
episode 4: now walk it out
oh hello! didn't see you there. me? i am currently lounging on a luxurious pull-out (couch, not method) in my parents' super-fine parisian rental suite, meaning i'm not only well-situated but also well-connected to the internet. given the circumstances, please excuse me as i update.
it goes without saying that episode 4 burnt out several weeks ago, but it is officially easter morning here & i deem it time for this hot mess to rise up from the grave. the episode opens with the world at large (& the housemates in particular) collectively despising natalie, mostly because she utters things like "i'm not boring" with an ultra-bland voice & an expressionless mask. after everyone lets out a long critical yawn, the girls book it to j alexander's charm school, where they are greeted by this graceful creature:
she exhibits her legendary pre-op-strut for our hapless wannabes while flailing a silk hankie & purring helpful tips like "ooh, elegance .." -- most of the models-in-trannying can't comprehend this crystal-clear advice, & simply stumble down the scarlet walk-way, portraying walks that supposedly cry "help me." in typical antm fashion, the teach strays from practical to cracktical; allison learns to walk like so:
after showing us all the proper usage of a monocle & sullying the floor with earl grey, miss j introduces two familiar faces, aka former contestants notable for losing cycle 9 to a bob-cut midget: enter chantal & bianca. the girls feign star-struck gasps, & nijah claims that "it was crazy seeing them, like, right there in person." oh please! if i had a dollar for every top model i've seen on the street (usually looking severely busted) i'd have .. like $8 but that's besides the point since these bitches are not celebrities to anyone but me. the hired amazons teach 'catwalk respect,' otherwise known as common sense. bianca, i'm glad you got over that airport beatdown with nikki blonski & co, but a freighter-load of eyeshadow only serves to remind us all of your assumed shiner:
the girls go home & indulge in a lame-ass round of truth&dare. while watching this pathetic scene, i couldn't help but reminisce about the blissful days of cycle 1, when those broads forced miss j to judge their bedonkadonk contest during his house-visit. damn, kesse could bring some serious bounce for a church-girl! regardless, a tyramail comes in & .. hold up. teyana. te. ya. na. wtfug kind of creature ARE you?!?
listen, i know she had a seriously funked-up weave at the time, but her face. her body. i just .. can't even begin to explain the confusion & discomfort she brings me. she looks like one of those horrifying walking trees from lord of the rings. whatever - she catches a break & wakes up early to sit through hours of torture so that she can finally have a fabulous head of synthetic hair:
ummm WHAT?? yes, this is the new weave! how is that any less fucked-up & wonky?? girl has a legit sevenhead going on (& on); why couldn't they pop a bang in there or some shit? this is beyond me & i really don't want to talk about it anymore so a new paragraph has been mandated.
OKAY! a walking challenge is predictably in order & the girls will be strutting their junk in a jill stuart show. i was very pleasantly shocked by the a-list name recognition, but let's be honest: the garments were disgusting & the show was completely staged. no other models even walked the runway, which was super-thin & cluttered with gimmicky obstacles. who even attends these jokes?? i mean, i would without a second thought .. but that's only because i'm a shameless bitch who loves a good laugh. everyone was pretty unremarkable, except for natalie who did some lame twirl; i'm still convinced she was trying to wriggle the sharp stick out of her nono, but to each her own.
i personally favored fo's walk, mostly for the sassy little side-step she did at the end of the runway. after the show, the lollipops line up & brace themselves for atoosa rubenstein's infinitely obnoxious name & j-stu's child-like criticism. did no one else feel like she was rivaling paula abdul with her med-voice? she seriously sounded like a robot with down's sydrome as she interrupted atoosa to blurt, "you felt like a ballerina!" apparently, i wasn't the only one irked:
aminat's repressed fury & angry-face collarbones make her face ever-so-slightly prettier. but unfortunately for her, she will forever look like she's recovering from a particularly brutal shovel-fight. i don't even care what natalie wins. a dress? lovely. moving on, the photoshoot is essentially tourist-themed & in a fittingly tedious twist, all the girls must work in groups to emote their over-the-top nyc area-related themes. tahlia proclaims that she "needs to bring the confidence"; she in fact needs to bring herself to a weightwatcher's meeting, stat. the shoot was kind of blah in gen, but the photographer was so hot!! mike rosenthal, feel free to take a snapshot of me slipping a roofie into your drink!
i know he's totally a recyclable antm entity, but i realized we were soul mates when he snapped at nijah, "this isn't, like, a family portrait." he can star in my future snl segment, delicious bitch. & when i say snl segment i mean sextape. moving on! fo further endears herself to me as she gets into her nasty wall st character: "talk to this fool, talk to him." in other news, sutan wins this cycle by merit of his ten-second cameos in every episode. what kind of accent does he even have?? it's like mr. garrison & cher had a bastard child .. which i wouldn't put past those skanks. also HOW MUCH PRETZEL WAS TEYONA EATING??
let me just say, i love allison. but she really needs to get a grip asap & stop being so wack. what is this sentence: "i was thoroughly frightened because i couldn't be able to be a believable snotty rich girl."just .. how. anyway, PANEL. it's honestly beyond me to try to explain what was going on this week so i'm just going to quote tyra & pray these pics scare you as much as they did me.
"as festive as my colorful shirt"
"working the ponytail & the bang"
"one. by. ONE." (as cam zooms in dramatically)
one from miss j: "are yo knees ashy??"
& finally, the cherry on top: [to teyana] "your hair looks SO much better!"
(there is already too much photo-evidence of said weave in this post.)
oh yeah. sandra is called first, & allison almost gets sent home but nijah goes instead, as tyra howls, "PUSH. TENSION. STRONG."
the end.
post about 7 to come.
love nick.
it goes without saying that episode 4 burnt out several weeks ago, but it is officially easter morning here & i deem it time for this hot mess to rise up from the grave. the episode opens with the world at large (& the housemates in particular) collectively despising natalie, mostly because she utters things like "i'm not boring" with an ultra-bland voice & an expressionless mask. after everyone lets out a long critical yawn, the girls book it to j alexander's charm school, where they are greeted by this graceful creature:
she exhibits her legendary pre-op-strut for our hapless wannabes while flailing a silk hankie & purring helpful tips like "ooh, elegance .." -- most of the models-in-trannying can't comprehend this crystal-clear advice, & simply stumble down the scarlet walk-way, portraying walks that supposedly cry "help me." in typical antm fashion, the teach strays from practical to cracktical; allison learns to walk like so:
after showing us all the proper usage of a monocle & sullying the floor with earl grey, miss j introduces two familiar faces, aka former contestants notable for losing cycle 9 to a bob-cut midget: enter chantal & bianca. the girls feign star-struck gasps, & nijah claims that "it was crazy seeing them, like, right there in person." oh please! if i had a dollar for every top model i've seen on the street (usually looking severely busted) i'd have .. like $8 but that's besides the point since these bitches are not celebrities to anyone but me. the hired amazons teach 'catwalk respect,' otherwise known as common sense. bianca, i'm glad you got over that airport beatdown with nikki blonski & co, but a freighter-load of eyeshadow only serves to remind us all of your assumed shiner:
the girls go home & indulge in a lame-ass round of truth&dare. while watching this pathetic scene, i couldn't help but reminisce about the blissful days of cycle 1, when those broads forced miss j to judge their bedonkadonk contest during his house-visit. damn, kesse could bring some serious bounce for a church-girl! regardless, a tyramail comes in & .. hold up. teyana. te. ya. na. wtfug kind of creature ARE you?!?
listen, i know she had a seriously funked-up weave at the time, but her face. her body. i just .. can't even begin to explain the confusion & discomfort she brings me. she looks like one of those horrifying walking trees from lord of the rings. whatever - she catches a break & wakes up early to sit through hours of torture so that she can finally have a fabulous head of synthetic hair:
ummm WHAT?? yes, this is the new weave! how is that any less fucked-up & wonky?? girl has a legit sevenhead going on (& on); why couldn't they pop a bang in there or some shit? this is beyond me & i really don't want to talk about it anymore so a new paragraph has been mandated.OKAY! a walking challenge is predictably in order & the girls will be strutting their junk in a jill stuart show. i was very pleasantly shocked by the a-list name recognition, but let's be honest: the garments were disgusting & the show was completely staged. no other models even walked the runway, which was super-thin & cluttered with gimmicky obstacles. who even attends these jokes?? i mean, i would without a second thought .. but that's only because i'm a shameless bitch who loves a good laugh. everyone was pretty unremarkable, except for natalie who did some lame twirl; i'm still convinced she was trying to wriggle the sharp stick out of her nono, but to each her own.
i personally favored fo's walk, mostly for the sassy little side-step she did at the end of the runway. after the show, the lollipops line up & brace themselves for atoosa rubenstein's infinitely obnoxious name & j-stu's child-like criticism. did no one else feel like she was rivaling paula abdul with her med-voice? she seriously sounded like a robot with down's sydrome as she interrupted atoosa to blurt, "you felt like a ballerina!" apparently, i wasn't the only one irked:
aminat's repressed fury & angry-face collarbones make her face ever-so-slightly prettier. but unfortunately for her, she will forever look like she's recovering from a particularly brutal shovel-fight. i don't even care what natalie wins. a dress? lovely. moving on, the photoshoot is essentially tourist-themed & in a fittingly tedious twist, all the girls must work in groups to emote their over-the-top nyc area-related themes. tahlia proclaims that she "needs to bring the confidence"; she in fact needs to bring herself to a weightwatcher's meeting, stat. the shoot was kind of blah in gen, but the photographer was so hot!! mike rosenthal, feel free to take a snapshot of me slipping a roofie into your drink!
i know he's totally a recyclable antm entity, but i realized we were soul mates when he snapped at nijah, "this isn't, like, a family portrait." he can star in my future snl segment, delicious bitch. & when i say snl segment i mean sextape. moving on! fo further endears herself to me as she gets into her nasty wall st character: "talk to this fool, talk to him." in other news, sutan wins this cycle by merit of his ten-second cameos in every episode. what kind of accent does he even have?? it's like mr. garrison & cher had a bastard child .. which i wouldn't put past those skanks. also HOW MUCH PRETZEL WAS TEYONA EATING??
let me just say, i love allison. but she really needs to get a grip asap & stop being so wack. what is this sentence: "i was thoroughly frightened because i couldn't be able to be a believable snotty rich girl."just .. how. anyway, PANEL. it's honestly beyond me to try to explain what was going on this week so i'm just going to quote tyra & pray these pics scare you as much as they did me."as festive as my colorful shirt"
"working the ponytail & the bang"
"one. by. ONE." (as cam zooms in dramatically)
one from miss j: "are yo knees ashy??"
& finally, the cherry on top: [to teyana] "your hair looks SO much better!"
(there is already too much photo-evidence of said weave in this post.)
oh yeah. sandra is called first, & allison almost gets sent home but nijah goes instead, as tyra howls, "PUSH. TENSION. STRONG."
the end.post about 7 to come.
love nick.
jeudi 9 avril 2009
sidenote!
hello faithful reader(s)!
just poppin' in to inform you that after my episode 4 post, i'll be abandoning my attempt to backtrack & cover the first 3 episodes; it's chronologically confusing & generally tiresome to banter about nasties who've already departed the realm of antm.
i'm escorting my parents around paris this week, but i'll still try to upload my bitchery re: eps 4&7 before 8 airs next wednesday.
bisous à tous!
love nick.
just poppin' in to inform you that after my episode 4 post, i'll be abandoning my attempt to backtrack & cover the first 3 episodes; it's chronologically confusing & generally tiresome to banter about nasties who've already departed the realm of antm.
i'm escorting my parents around paris this week, but i'll still try to upload my bitchery re: eps 4&7 before 8 airs next wednesday.
bisous à tous!
love nick.
mercredi 8 avril 2009
mardi 7 avril 2009
episode 6: the curious face of tyty banks
the sixth installment of the cycle picks up where the fifth left off, specifically drama central! it's night-time in the big city. the girls stumble home from panel, & even though we all know they really just "wanna take off they shoes & throw UP," aminat & teyana are ready to take those heels & beat a bitch with them! tahlia doesn't want to burn any cals by descending the staircase, so aminat decides to "go downstairs & handle her business" .. which apparently means spattering random girls with unintelligible insults. to allison: "don't act like you're confused & sad & don't know what's going on" -- umm .. isn't that how she always looks? the height of the dramz occurs when aminazi slurs at natalie, "you'll nevah be worth nuthin!!" & air-stabs with her gumby-esque apendages:
tahlia appears momentarily to be a lump of fried lard & gurgle the ambiguous phrase, "that is SO real!"; the pseudo-fight comes to a close & suddenly jay manuel is dead-eying me in a creepy stone courtyard surrounded by mannequins. he dons his façade of fashion know-how & informs the girls that being dubbed 'just a mannequin' can be (using his very-best tyra-timing) "the kiss. of. death!" -- at which point he theatrically tips over a mannie & shatters it, as the girls stare on unaffected by the ridiculousness of everything around them:
did they really have a cam positioned to get that petrifying shot?? i'm seriously gonna need to pop a xanax before window-shopping now so i don't have a panic attack or night terrors! they all flee the scene of the crime & are introduced to howard stern's wife, who's supposedly an accomplished model because she was repeatedly featured on the cover of .. wait for it .. HAMPTONS magazine. jay claims that means she has "variety" despite the fact that her bland, skinny ass is dishing out the same (albeit pretty) smile in every pic. still, she married a nasty skank & has probably mastered every kinky bedroom art (read: lemon party) so her opinion must have some value.
for a millisecond i expected the challenge to be something relevant, but silly me! -- this is ANTM, & instead a curtain is drawn back to reveal giant faceless cardboard cut-outs of tyty. the aspiring models are made to pose in them like tourists on a field trip to hell. sandra rues the day she tried to proclaim that "this is not a comedy show" --
in an adjacent cardboard tyra, celia lets it show that she mistucked her peen today:
in the end, both of these two beauties are ignored & fifty extra frames are awarded to natalie instead. yawnziez. i still think the crown should've gone to fo; after all, she won it with her spunky, faux-ghetto "feeeeeeeuhss" before the challenge even went down!! look at the consortium of blank fingers wagging back at her in approval:
back at the house, blahlia & cc make up in their respective irritating voices while tahlia binges (surprise); the world continues not to care. our concubines are swiftly shipped off to their next photoshoot, which completely abandons wordplay in its hint; allison recalls it deliciously in her droopy teenage tones: "you guys look pale how bout some color." it's predictably a beauty-shoot, in which (as mr. jay elaborates, spasming) each model will have paint "splashed across your face, all artistic-like!" in real life, this translates to the ever-fab sutan essentially spitting on them through a straw. i watched, aghast, murmuring "no .." each time he performed his task:
sidenote: although antm has never possessed the influence to actually form a contestant into a 'top model,' it has effortlessly stripped its entrants of every pigment of shame. cc's interview was taken on the street. in new york city. she looks like she got shit on by a gargoyle before hitting up half-off wednesdays at salvation army. if i'd walked by at this moment i would've taken her for a tranny who barely survived a gay-bashing (as i hastily avoided shim):
sandra has been getting the loser-edit for a few weeks now; when she leaves us i'll miss her unique take on the english language: "i worked really .. current .. to be here." she needs to add a few more syllables to the end of each word & several thousand decibals to her volume in order to rival jade, the master of neologisms. meanwhile, celia decides to "go out twirling" & continues to have the face of a child-molester & the body of the crypt-keeper:
everyone shuffles off to judging, where tyra gives her usual saccharine intro & points out that paulina is bringing her cougar-game (probably in more senses than one):
when she mentions keith major, she obviously takes the opportunity to boast about her fabulous & lucrative post-modeling career; the screen shifts to strobe-light mode & a jarring 'WAY WUH-WAY WUH-WAY' is heard as random shots of tyranasaurus flit across:
uhh .. not sure about that pose, ty, but i guess you're 'retired' for a reason? judging commences & the powers that be drool over tahlia & teyana -- they're both unbelievably photogenic, or as tyra eloquently lilts, "to look better in pictures than in person." thanks for the elaboration, t. i don't see what the big deal is about tahlia; to me her face looks as strange & distorted as her burn-victim bod:
teyana, however, remains a complete mystery. also .. didn't tyra supposedly fix that weave?? please explain. fo is decidedly fierce, & provides tyra with yet another opportunity to channel posh, shouting "MAYJUH!" whilst making this monstrous expression:
work that shit out, fo! although she's super-short, fofo is instantly lovable -- it was obvious she was hustlin' at the shoot like her morgage was due. nigel hits the figurative nail on sandra's arrogant head: "it's not fashion, it's not beauty, it's just sort of .. there. it's like hey, here's a picture of me." only he left out the part about her being a creepy voodoo witch; if you feel a prick in your side tonight you know she's at work!
i think my personal fave is miss allison, with her incredible doe-eyes. okay, so what if she gives the same exact expression in every shot? she's this season's awkward, clueless waif & probably has the only truly stand-out face in the bunch. mr. jay called london "genius" during the shoot, but i guess she didn't thoroughly "explore the gamut of blue," because paulina thinks, "she vomited blue & then she died." to be fair, london's make-up actually looks like she got spit on (which, let me remind you, she did):
after d-lib time, tyra cheesily snarks that one girl won't be "going somewhere. over. the rainbow!" fo gets called first for her red-hot pic, & the two nasties left photoless are sandi & cc. they obs just wanted an excuse to kick sandra off, but it was still infinitely amusing to hear tyra warble, disoriented: "can you getcherrr head around a shhhhhtraight shhot?" ty makes sure cc learns her lesson by making it about herself & naomi campbell, claiming she "mess't wit ma money fer yeeeears," then deigns to hug sandra & send her bald egotism packin'. & stay tuned for the greatest antm wtf to date next week:
YES THAT'S CLAY AIKEN.
tahlia appears momentarily to be a lump of fried lard & gurgle the ambiguous phrase, "that is SO real!"; the pseudo-fight comes to a close & suddenly jay manuel is dead-eying me in a creepy stone courtyard surrounded by mannequins. he dons his façade of fashion know-how & informs the girls that being dubbed 'just a mannequin' can be (using his very-best tyra-timing) "the kiss. of. death!" -- at which point he theatrically tips over a mannie & shatters it, as the girls stare on unaffected by the ridiculousness of everything around them:
did they really have a cam positioned to get that petrifying shot?? i'm seriously gonna need to pop a xanax before window-shopping now so i don't have a panic attack or night terrors! they all flee the scene of the crime & are introduced to howard stern's wife, who's supposedly an accomplished model because she was repeatedly featured on the cover of .. wait for it .. HAMPTONS magazine. jay claims that means she has "variety" despite the fact that her bland, skinny ass is dishing out the same (albeit pretty) smile in every pic. still, she married a nasty skank & has probably mastered every kinky bedroom art (read: lemon party) so her opinion must have some value.
for a millisecond i expected the challenge to be something relevant, but silly me! -- this is ANTM, & instead a curtain is drawn back to reveal giant faceless cardboard cut-outs of tyty. the aspiring models are made to pose in them like tourists on a field trip to hell. sandra rues the day she tried to proclaim that "this is not a comedy show" --
in an adjacent cardboard tyra, celia lets it show that she mistucked her peen today:
in the end, both of these two beauties are ignored & fifty extra frames are awarded to natalie instead. yawnziez. i still think the crown should've gone to fo; after all, she won it with her spunky, faux-ghetto "feeeeeeeuhss" before the challenge even went down!! look at the consortium of blank fingers wagging back at her in approval:
back at the house, blahlia & cc make up in their respective irritating voices while tahlia binges (surprise); the world continues not to care. our concubines are swiftly shipped off to their next photoshoot, which completely abandons wordplay in its hint; allison recalls it deliciously in her droopy teenage tones: "you guys look pale how bout some color." it's predictably a beauty-shoot, in which (as mr. jay elaborates, spasming) each model will have paint "splashed across your face, all artistic-like!" in real life, this translates to the ever-fab sutan essentially spitting on them through a straw. i watched, aghast, murmuring "no .." each time he performed his task:
sidenote: although antm has never possessed the influence to actually form a contestant into a 'top model,' it has effortlessly stripped its entrants of every pigment of shame. cc's interview was taken on the street. in new york city. she looks like she got shit on by a gargoyle before hitting up half-off wednesdays at salvation army. if i'd walked by at this moment i would've taken her for a tranny who barely survived a gay-bashing (as i hastily avoided shim):
sandra has been getting the loser-edit for a few weeks now; when she leaves us i'll miss her unique take on the english language: "i worked really .. current .. to be here." she needs to add a few more syllables to the end of each word & several thousand decibals to her volume in order to rival jade, the master of neologisms. meanwhile, celia decides to "go out twirling" & continues to have the face of a child-molester & the body of the crypt-keeper:
everyone shuffles off to judging, where tyra gives her usual saccharine intro & points out that paulina is bringing her cougar-game (probably in more senses than one):
when she mentions keith major, she obviously takes the opportunity to boast about her fabulous & lucrative post-modeling career; the screen shifts to strobe-light mode & a jarring 'WAY WUH-WAY WUH-WAY' is heard as random shots of tyranasaurus flit across:
uhh .. not sure about that pose, ty, but i guess you're 'retired' for a reason? judging commences & the powers that be drool over tahlia & teyana -- they're both unbelievably photogenic, or as tyra eloquently lilts, "to look better in pictures than in person." thanks for the elaboration, t. i don't see what the big deal is about tahlia; to me her face looks as strange & distorted as her burn-victim bod:
teyana, however, remains a complete mystery. also .. didn't tyra supposedly fix that weave?? please explain. fo is decidedly fierce, & provides tyra with yet another opportunity to channel posh, shouting "MAYJUH!" whilst making this monstrous expression:
work that shit out, fo! although she's super-short, fofo is instantly lovable -- it was obvious she was hustlin' at the shoot like her morgage was due. nigel hits the figurative nail on sandra's arrogant head: "it's not fashion, it's not beauty, it's just sort of .. there. it's like hey, here's a picture of me." only he left out the part about her being a creepy voodoo witch; if you feel a prick in your side tonight you know she's at work!
i think my personal fave is miss allison, with her incredible doe-eyes. okay, so what if she gives the same exact expression in every shot? she's this season's awkward, clueless waif & probably has the only truly stand-out face in the bunch. mr. jay called london "genius" during the shoot, but i guess she didn't thoroughly "explore the gamut of blue," because paulina thinks, "she vomited blue & then she died." to be fair, london's make-up actually looks like she got spit on (which, let me remind you, she did):
after d-lib time, tyra cheesily snarks that one girl won't be "going somewhere. over. the rainbow!" fo gets called first for her red-hot pic, & the two nasties left photoless are sandi & cc. they obs just wanted an excuse to kick sandra off, but it was still infinitely amusing to hear tyra warble, disoriented: "can you getcherrr head around a shhhhhtraight shhot?" ty makes sure cc learns her lesson by making it about herself & naomi campbell, claiming she "mess't wit ma money fer yeeeears," then deigns to hug sandra & send her bald egotism packin'. & stay tuned for the greatest antm wtf to date next week:
YES THAT'S CLAY AIKEN.
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