My boyfriend told me yesterday that at times, I can be quite "fierce." (Yes, I have a boyfriend now, which may explain my long hiatus from this blog. That's right. I've been having sex non-stop for the past THREE MONTHS. Boy, am I tired.) What he said made me think of how often that word is thrown around on America's Next Top Model, (pronounced "fee-yarce") and how it doesn't seem to mean anything, really.
It's no surprise that Tyra Banks doesn't understand English, considering that she recently pronounced Asperger's Ahs-pur-jers and that when she had the opportunity to interview Barack Obama, she asked him if she and her mother could have a sleepover party in the Lincoln bedroom. I don't know why this woman is allowed to have multiple TV shows. The only useful thing she has ever done for my life was to give me a shade upon which to base my ultimate cup of coffee. ("Milk and sugar?" "Yeah, make it about Tyra color.")
The model wannabes are increasingly despicable as well, now mocking the disabled and each other's thigh fat (which: what fat??). The only two likeable girls are Heather, who has Asperger's (which: if that means not being able to relate to the other contestants, then I also have Asperger's) and Victoria, the awkward nerdy Yale student. I will watch tonight's episode because it's the makeover one, which is always my favorite, because it leaves me feeling immensely self-satisfied after I correctly predict who will cry at their new haircut.
House, meanwhile, was EXCELLENT last night, inducing Jeanette and I to cry over the clearly manipulative final dog scene. This season's format of auditioning new fellows, Survivor-style, is doing it for me, despite the fact that there's no suspense that Kal Penn's character will be hired. It's also looking like Foreman will return. He has never helped me with my coffee, but he is my favorite second banana character and there's a definite gap in the show without him.
Spoilery nitpick: no way would that dog have eaten the pills off the floor. Having cared for that man for so long, it certainly would have been trained to avoid spilled medication.
No, this is not my grandfather, but I will bet he is somebody's grandpa, and I don't want Chuck (my grandpa) to have to deal with a sudden swell of internet fame, so this guy will do.
My grandpa and I watched quite a bit of television together while spending the weekend in the house in the Catskill region of NY that he built with his own two hands (I decided to give him credit for something since I am about to make him an honorary boobtuber without consent).
On this week's EXTREME MAKEOVER: HOME EDITION, Ty and the gang were helping out a family of five whose eight year old daughter was facing cancer for the second time. Their house was full of mold, fault wires, cracks etc.
Grandpa: What?! Why do these people need help? Me: I think because of all the medical bills, they don't have the money to fix their house up. Grandpa: Yeah, but she got sick two years ago? What about before then? This is bull shit. Isn't there anything else to watch?!
Thankfully, Bravo was airing a mini marathon of Law and Order: Criminal Intent, and we caught an episode with the illustrious Vincent D'Onofrio.
Grandpa: What's this guy's name? Me: Vincent D'Onofrio or Detective Robert Goren Grandpa: Huh, I thought it was Jesus Christ or something. Who knows this stuff? Who could figure this stuff out!?
There was no HUNG jury at judge's table last night! No need for Hung's head to be HUNG in shame! Hung won.
Aside from ending the longest reality show run in history, last night's TOP CHEF was very educational.
I learned that while Padma Lackshmi remains the hottest female specimen ever, she should stay away from live television. Bravo's got a dramatic eye in the editing room, and on the pre-recorded shows, Padma has always come off as suave and just an appropriate few notches below bitchy (they left the bitchy edits for Gail Simmons. Whew, someone has a horned cucumber up her butt). Last night, though, when Padma wasn't tripping over words, she spoke to the camera with the same juvenile inflections as Captain Kangaroo or something. I thought she was going to pull out a fake mirror and say she saw me, and Jimmy and Nancy or some shit...
I learned that women really can't be chefs! After giving little girls everywhere glimmers of hope, Casey really effed up in the final elimination challenge. Come on girl! You should have shown those dudes what you were made of! Displayed your womanly talents! Diced some garlic using kegal stretches or something. Man...
And finally, I learned that Marcel from season 2 and Hung must have met in Top Chef Assholes Anonymous and fallen deeply in love. All night, when the camera cut to Marcel, you saw this deep look in his eyes...like if things didn't go his way, he was going to press the button in his shoe causing this homemade explosive of baking soda and salmon flavored foam to go off. Then when Hung was announced as Top Chef, no joke, Marcel ran up to him SO FAST and was the FIRST ONE to embrace him. There were even points where Hung's mother was standing behind him like chopped lychee while Hung and Marcel embraced. Wasn't Hung allegedly doing all this for his mom? Maybe not because last week he said something about sleeping in the kitchen while he grew up...mom must be a hardass.
ANNNND my love affair with Kid Nation continues. As the show goes on, more kids are getting more face time, allowing me to find the town Jew. I KNEW there had to be one somewhere. His name is Eric, and I am sure he will be a usurer or something in no time.