I’m just... I’m trying to process whatever the hell happened on The Bachelorette last night. Surely, it was the best evidence of why we watch television, but I also think that it may be a sign of the coming apocalypse. Isn’t that what the Bible said? Locusts, plague, red moon, insanely addictive reality show shit-storm presented in a family-friendly medium. I think that’s what it said — Leviticus was basically all about The Bachelotette.

The episode starts off with a bang, when Chris Harrison tells Ali that he has something that he needs to talk to her about. What could it be?! Is she being charged with manslaughter for leaving Kermit up there on that mountain? Is Kermit being charged with moose-slaughter for carving Ali’s face into the sides of their still steaming carcasses? Did Roberto’s STD test come back positive and all of the fun of this show is going to be sucked slowly out of our dear Ali’s soul? No. Chris Harrison received a phone call today from one of the Bachelor’s GIRLFRIENDS confessing that she was in fact dating one of the stunning lads and that she had been speaking to him throughout the process. He said it just like that. No slow build, no sugar-coated wording. Just a sure, swift stroke of truth and the bandaid was gone.

The news isn’t over, though. The girlfriend would like to speak to Ali on the telephone. So, Chris Harrison goes over to the wall phone in their Turkish hotel room and I suddenly remember that some people have phones that plug into the wall. Phones with cords and giant buttons and receivers. I feel so young again. Chris Harrison dials the number — I wish it had been a rotary phone, that he would have turned the wheel back and forth and said in a Peter Faulkner voice, “Here’s the deal, ‘ya see? I got Ali Fedotowsky next to me and she needs the truth so stick it to her straight.”— but that didn’t happen. Instead, he dialed the numbers (beep*boop*beep*beep*boop) and waited for an unusual amount of rings for someone to pick up. All the while Ali stands next to him, slack jawed and aghast, her bottom lip suddenly even heavier than it usually is. When the voice on the other end finally picks up, meek and mellow, it’s one of her former Bachelor castmates. They chit-chat about how the experience must be crazy and how it’s nice to hear a familiar voice, but really Ali’s just thinking that this bitch needs to get the show on the road.

What comes next is a strange sort of admission. This girl knows that one of the guys has a girlfriend and she knows this because she’s sitting with the girlfriend. She tells us it’s Justin, but we already know that because of her insanely annoying Canadian accent and the establishing shot of her house that said she was in Toronto. What’s the deal, ABC? Couldn’t spring for the good cameras to go all the way up to Canadaland? Ali begins to tense up when her contestant friend hands the phone over the girlfriend, and so do I. She looks like some kind of a terrifying version of a New Jersey porn star — like Danielle Staub and Amy Winehouse had a crazy night with a horse and nine months later this little lady popped out, all teeth and apologetic TV crying.

So then the chick vomits out the whole sob story of what happened. She and Justin have been dating for about two years, she knew that he was doing the show, she encouraged him to go on it because it would be a foot in the door into the entertainment industry for him. He told her that his goal was to make the top three, because then everyone knows who you are — Justin, honey, no one really cares about The Bachelorette — but then it all changed. About two weeks after his leaving, Horseface found out that Justin had ANOTHER girlfriend, one that he had been dating for a few months. She’s telling Ali all of this because she knows now that things are getting serious and that it’s not fair for her to get too far into the lie. That’s a big steaming pile of dogshit — I think that there are other reasons for her finally squawking — maybe the two of them planned to drop the bomb at some point, thinking that he might be going home anyway (it certainly seems fishy that someone previously associated with the show was somehow in on the whole ruse). At any rate, Ali was not in on it and she seems to be out for blood. She begins barking demands at poor Chris Harrison: Where is Justin? Do the other men know? Why couldn’t the weatherman have predicted this storm? BRING ME THEIR HEADS!!!! No wire hangers!!!

I don’t know about you guys, but I like this Ali. She seems rejuvenated and a little unhinged and it’s just always great to be able to see people realistically reacting to nonsense on reality shows. She goes stomping down the hotel hallway, out for vengeance with poor, sweet Chris Harrison tagging alone after her. She knocks on the boys’ suite and Lawyer guy answers the door, surprised at the presence of Chris Harrison. My boyfriend comments that this show would be much different if it were Chris Hanson and I chuckle to myself.

So, here it is. Ali gathers all of the guys together and right there, in front of everyone, starts in on a tirade so full of sassy teenage venom I felt like I was being infused with bitch energy just by watching. She begins, "You know I know that this process has been hard for everyone — especially for you, Justin, since you have a girlfriend." BAM! Justin just sits there, sort of dumbfounded, and replies with the exhaustively insipid, "Really?" while a Grinch-like half-smirk creeps across his face. This dude is so horrifyingly mean that he's actually getting pleasure out of embarrassing this girl on national TV.

But satisfaction aside, it's all too much for Rated X, so he hobbles back and forth through the hallway, literally running through the rooms like a little child. He grabs his passport and his wallet because "that's all he needs" and Roberto takes this opportunity to comfort Ali by creepily rubbing her thigh. If ever there was an appropriate time for a televised inner thigh rub, it was probably this moment. Ali excuses herself to go talk to Rated X and he just hobbles down the hallway, running away from her. A few P.A.'s scuttle out of the camera shot and the chase goes all the way down to the courtyard of the hotel. I really want this whole thing to be sped up and infused with old timey video grain and Busby Berkeley chase music. All the while, the rest of the guys watch the fiasco from the window of the hotel room. Boy, is this good television.

The scene below is comically futile for poor Rated X. He keeps running away from Ali and she keeps catching up with him, like some kind of speed-resistant slasher flick serial killer. He tries futilely to gain entrance to the hotel restaurant, but some small Turkish waiter holds the doors closed and wags his finger "No. No falafel for you." This gives Ali enough time to catch up to him and attempt the injustice of touching his shirt. "DON'T TOUCH ME!," he bellows, and suddenly you're seeing the facade of family-loving Justin drop and some sort of mean, Canadian monster come out. He walks through some planters and over a waterfall with his boot — like, seriously hobbles his broken ass over a water installation just to get away from the crumbling mess of his master plan.

When he finally returns, no doubt prodded by producers, he's full of excuses. He has strong feelings for Horseface, but who could tell if it was love. He NEVER contacted her, but the montage of phone messages he left while on the show — played over him hobbling away from the hotel — tells a different story. I really can't recall a reality program so shamelessly belittling someone appearing on the show. I could watch this all day long.

The rest of the episode happens, and frankly, it's all pretty boring compared to this mess. Ali has one-on-ones with cowboy Ty (whose face is just a little off) and Frank (whose trepidation about the process is probably exactly how most normal people would react to having to watch a girl they're dating make out with a bunch of other dudes), but in the end the Lawyer, the only guy I would actually date on this show, has to go. Because he's a nice guy with average looks and that's just not enough for our fair Ali. As she told Rated X, she's here to find her husband. She's serious about it. As serious as a Roberto inner thigh rub.

If you haven’t been watching Persons Unknown, you probably should. As I’ve said before, summer mystery series are one of my favorite things on television. They’re perfect popcorn TV — when done right they keep you guessing for the whole summer. But then, the guessing is gloriously over in about three months and we don’t have to deal with ridiculous story lines after a reveal (i.e. Desperate Housewives) or ridiculous story lines leading up to an unsatisfying reveal (i.e. Lost). Really though folks, this one’s pretty fun and it’s only three episodes in — plenty of time to get caught up!

When last we found our hodge podge band of kidnapees, they were attempting with little success to escape whatever hell hole they had mysteriously found themselves in. When we pick back up, they’re trying yet again. Digging a hole underneath the city (and hoping to bypass the microwave fence preventing them from leaving) they’re exhausted after the week of teamwork. Then they hit something. It seems like it’s a metal wall — a pretty intrepid undertaking but nothing too out of the ordinary considering the scope of the prison they’re in. But it’s more than a wall. Its vents open to reveal slit-like openings and before anyone has an opportunity to inspect the new discovery, it starts spewing out gas. Frantic to escape, everyone stumbles out of the hole, nearly leaving Janet behind.

So, that dastardly plan has been thwarted but there are still things that they can do to escape. Perhaps finding a way out isn’t the solution. Perhaps they need to find a way to bring rescue to them. So, the kidnapees run about town, gathering anything and everything they can find to make themselves a giant bonfire. But nothing lights on fire. It appears that everything, literally everything, has been doused in some kind of flame retardant element. That sucks. But just as all hope looks to be lost they see a helicopter flying overhead. Janet’s the only one smart enough to find something reflective to flash at the pilot, and the 'copter begins to come low. Too low. It hovers for a while and finally lets a package drop.

Back in San Francisco-land, douchey reporter dude is, apparently, back on the case. I don’t really think that they’ve done a very good job of flushing out what his motives are and why he would defy so many death threats to find out who this kidnapped mother is. He returns home only to find his things strewn about and a PI sitting in his chair, pointing a gun at him. He tells him to stay away from the story and steals all of his evidence. But additional death threats and beat downs are no match for this dude’s reporting instinct. He breaks into the PI’s office, steals all of his evidence and peruses his email. He finds emails from both Janet and from Janet’s mother — both looking for Janet’s husband. There’s also a phone number listed for an off-shore bank deposit of $10,000. He calls the number only to be met by the same static that Janet met when she was attempting to speak with her daughter. Then the creepy starts, he gets a call on his cell phone with the same static. The next real world scene we get is of the PI approaching a cop with a huge clue in the Janet kidnapping — the identity of her elusive husband. When his photo is revealed, it’s none other than our intrepid reporter! So, is this a set-up to get him off of the scent? Is he really interested in the case for ulterior motive we could have never imagined? This is why we need to keep tuning in!

Back in Nowhereland, population 15 (give or take), the box drop has been, erm, dropped and the helicopter flies away, all hope with it. As the group approaches it, it explodes open. Inside are canisters for each of them. Most are empty, but three have gas masks inside. Considering the gassing that they’ve just been treated to, the masks are at a premium. Needless to say, there’s a lot of infighting for possession. Janet blah blahs about how she has to get back to her daughter and Cameron retorts that he also has a sob story about his terminally ill wife — shouldn’t he be getting a mask, too? I agree, what the hell is with this lady and her kid? It seems to be a lot of unfounded anger. She gets even more angry later, when she's trying to enjoy a nice tub of ice cream in Ye Olde Soda Shoppe and she finds paintings of her daughter and mother enjoying banana splits. Unhinged, she races to the mental patient lady and threatens her with a bottle of scotch. It’s all very strange and I have a feeling that there’s something major that we haven’t been told about her stories.

With only three masks and the omnipresent threat of gassing, the rest of the troupe goes stomping off to look for make-shift protective gear. Car salesman guy gets all creepy on Blondie, and she reacts by kicking his ass. Hmmm, where the hell did she learn all of those take down moves? Speaking of Car Salesman, he sees a video in a storefront television screen of Cameron smothering his wifey. Looks like these people have a lot more secrets than we know about.

While all in the hotel lobby, the conspicuous gassing begins and there's a frenzied search for protection but, in my opinion, not enough of a frenzied search for escape. Car salesman guy steals Cameron's mask from him. The night (and now day) manager locks his own door behind him and blondie goes after him. But then something strange starts happening. After a few moments of frenzy, a few of the people with brains realize that nothing is actually happening to them. The gas isn't toxic. But something else is. The gas masks begin to fill with some sort of green gas and Janet's the only one fortuitous enough to pry them open with a letter opener. Crisis averted.

After all of that (and a little more character development--like mental patient lady saying that she purposefully stayed in the institution because she felt safe there) Marine dude and Janet receive a bowl of fortune cookies and instead of playing the sick little game, they throw them in the trash. Something tells me that this isn't going to work out very well.

True Blood was, er… odd last night. Turns out, vampire sex makes me really, really uncomfortable. But there were plenty of normal moments in the episode too, at least normal for True Blood. Here’s what the people in Bon Temps have been up to:

Jason: Ever since he “got himself a drug-dealer” last week, it seems that Jason has found a new calling in life — being a police officer. Two things are alarming about this off the bat: first, Jason will follow a cause with the drop of a hat — remember his months spent converting to a crazy Christian cult? And secondly, he’s dropping one too many, “I can do this better than Andy Belfleur”’s for my comfort. It looks as though the vindictive, little-boy-hurt part of Jason is coming out and I don’t like it one bit. But we’ll probably be seeing more of it, as the only way that this idiot is going to bypass the deputy test is to cheat his way into the police department.

Tara: After punching the shit out of some rednecks, we find Ms. Suicide herself holed up in a nasty hotel room having some kind of insane sex with the mysterious English vamp who helped her get revenge for Eggs — you know, the one who’s also been nosing around Beel’s house. After some tantric nonsense, an almost bite (retracted because she “wanted it”), and a little bit of pillow talk, Tara gets freaked out by the fact that Vampy wants to know personal shit about her, so she runs out of the room and back to Merlotte’s to work a bartending shift. After serving Jason a drink — and getting confused by his ever-increasing (seemingly) displaced guilt — she gets a call about Eggs’ funeral going on. She shows up, only to find out that she’s the only person in all of Bon Temps to come to the burial. I guess people just don’t care enough to send serial killers off into the next life. But who paid for all of this? “I did,” says Sookie after walking out of the shadows in another pastel sundress. Best friend makeup time! Come live with me again! Okay! Blah, blah, hugandblah! The most interesting part of the Tara-sode comes when Vampy pays a visit to the Stackhouse home and charms his way into an invite. He wants to know all about Sookie and we want to know all about him.

Jessica: Poor, beautiful Jessica. Turned so young and so dumb. Wondering where her dead body has gone, she seeks guidance from the only other vampire she knows — Pam. But Pam is otherwise disposed at the time, fang-deep in that Estonian’s who-ha. Not only will this chick let Eric bang her out for 12 hours but she’ll let those chompers near her nether regions? Sweet Jesus, she’s a masochist. So, here she is. Without help and confused and who comes along but good ‘ol Vampy. He just saunters into the Compton mansion and Jess laments not knowing that a vampire can barge into any vampire home that he wants to — it’s humans whose residences he’s protected against. Acting props go to: Jessica, for playing the next scene like a dumb little girl instead of a dumb little girl trying to hide something. When Vampy asks her if anyone in her life has gone missing she replies that yes, her maker Beel Compton has, and it isn’t a bit of a rouse. She’s just too dumb for that. Beel isn’t exactly who Vampy was referring to, and he proves it by pulling the dead guy’s head out of a paper bag. See, his job is to “find things,” and since he’s done something to help her, she owes something to him. What does he want? He wants to know all about Beel Compton, and this chick starts spilling the beans like she’s in a Lucy episode. Vampy is the best thing to come into Bon Temps for quite some time.

Sookie: We get to find out what happens with the whole Eric/werewolf showdown! Sookie fires her gun at the wolf and Eric throws himself in front of the bullet to ensure that this dude can talk. But as soon as he starts bleeding, the wolf smells his blood and starts going rabid for V. He attacks Eric’s bullet wound like a frenzied addict and Eric can barely fight him off. It takes a bullet from Sookie’s gun to put him down, and even then Eric isn’t interested in trying to extract any information from him. He wants to kill him while he has the chance. After burying the assassin — the two has so much more chemistry than she and Beel!—Sookie wants to know who Jackson might be. Eric informs her that Jackson was referring to a place, not a person, as evidenced by the “obvious” Mississippi accent. It’s a funny aside that’s an obvious reference to the God-awful accents on this show — chief among them, Sookie’s. But this piece of information is just too much for our intrepid Sookie to told hold onto and do nothing about. Eric, knowing that she’s an idiot, tells her not to go, but she’s a big dummy and he knows that his words are falling on deaf ears so he sends her someone to act as a bodyguard. Alcide! He’s a werewolf whose family owes Eric money and he’s dreamy in that Olivier Martinez kind of way. Thus begins the roadtrip adventure to Jackson, where Alcide takes Sookie to a werewolf bar. It has wolves painted everywhere and people are wearing leather (except Sookie, who’s in a white sundress and "looks like lunch”) and God, do they love pool! Basically, werewolves have blended into human society by disguising themselves as bikers. Turns out there’s a whole new pack/old pack rivalry going on, with classy hunk Alcide being part of the less violent older crowd and the dudes who try and ravage Sookie and some guy who stole Alcide’s gf being part of the new. More shirtless werewolves, please.

Sam: After coming back from his near deadly run with little bro, Sam decides that it’s time to get back to Merlottes — leaving it in the hands of trigger happy Daddy-to-be (actually, that’s not his baby after all) Terry and V-mogul Lafayette probably isn’t the best business decision — and his trash family has mixed feelings. So Mommy, Daddy and jealous little bro make a road trip down to Bon Temps and end up taking trays full of shots before Sam kicks their drunk asses out of the bar. Something tells me this isn’t going to end well for the newly reunited family. At night, Sam’s security system is triggered (Sam really is the smartest person on this show) and he walks into his ransacked office only to find a mysterious bird flying away. Being the only shifter on the block was so much easier than this.

Beel: When last we saw our faithful Confederate soldier, he had just thrown an oil lamp at maker Lorena. This didn’t do much to take care of his problem, but she did look pretty awesome burnt to a crisp in charred, black riding crops. The King’s husband is freaking out because his rug from the 13th century has been ruined and I LOVE this queen. Vampire life be damned, there soot on the rug! The King reveals to Beel that he is currently doing Lorena’s bidding — hinting strongly that that bidding includes bodily harm to Sookie Stackhouse — but that he’d rather have Beel in his arsenal. Still thinking it over, Beel flashes back to three years after he was turned. He went to visit his wife and children, only to find that his son had been taken by small pox, his daughter sent away and his wife in shambles. This is all too much and Beel is overcome with emotion, causing him to cry tears of blood, which freaks the wifey out just a bit. After calling him the devil and a demon and various other names, Lorena comes sweeping in, telling Beel that the line between the human and vampire world must stay separate and that pain can only come from a blurring. She commands him to force her to forget that he was ever there and presumably leave forever. This memory reminds him that he has caused innumerable pain to Sookie too, and he pledges his allegiance to the King of Mississippi. Lorena is pissed when she finds out that Sookie is not to be harmed and hurls a bunch of insults at Beel. This precipitates the weirdest scene I’ve ever witnessed on television. I can’t even bear to type it out, but it involves violent copulation, Exorcist-esque head twisting and professions of love.

And that was True Blood.

I guess I'll talk about it. I taped The Real L Word, thinking that it might be entertaining and that perhaps (because it's on Showtime) it would illuminate the lives of real people in a real, unscripted way. The premise of the show is this: Lesbians in Los Angeles live, work and love. The twist that drew me in was that several of the cast members were the actual people who the characters on The L Word were based upon. Not that I watched that show either, but I thought it might be an interesting meta study in modern mediums, you know, to watch where it all began.

The pilot delivered on several levels. The women on the show do appear to be real. I think they're more exhibitionists than they are fame whores, so participation in producer-setup scenarios is much less frequent than on many other "reality" shows. I also feel like there are several people on the show, most notably the two engaged lesbians and the former player in a fledgling romance with a single mother, whose motives are probably educationally based. By this I mean that I think that they want to show the viewing audience that being a gay woman is just like being any other woman. And these people do show that. They dote on their dogs and watch TV and even deal with squabbling during child-handover after a split-custody agreement.

It's the other ones I'm worried about. They're all partying, promiscuous and afraid of commitment. It's annoying to watch a bunch of people like this in general, but when the piece of pop culture in question is serving another purpose (and intentional or not, it is) character portrayal needs to be tread lightly upon. The sad fact that exists in America today is that ecery individual is representative of the communities to which they belong. And when those communities include being a stigmatized minority, those actions (however minute or pedestrian) either support or refute the myriad assumptions about that entire group. That sucks. God, if I were representative of every copy editor in the world, they would probably think that we all like Lost to a creepy degree and crave ice cream like some people crave crack. And however much it sucks that I'm not judged that way and they are, it's still true. People in middle America, if they tuned into the series premiere of The Real L Word, would most likely reaffirm their assumptions that all gay people are promiscuous and irresponsible--incapable of maintaining a stable romantic relationship--and don't even get me started on what that means to proponents of Prop 8.

So, although there were a few highlights (I would watch a wedding planning show with those two ladies getting ready to tie the knot) mostly I just felt kind of sad a disappointed with this reality show offering. Oh, well. Guess I'll just have to watch some Lost repeats.

Summer’s favorite plaything, So You Think You Can Dance, is happening so I guess I should talk about it. They’ve retooled the format this season to include only ten actual contestants who are paired with ten all-stars. It’s an interesting enough twist, and it does raise the dancing bar for the competitors to a large degree, but I’m just kind of — I don’t know — bored with all of the perfection. Anyway, here are a few of my favorite dances so far:

Just kidding. There aren't any videos from the competition episodes. Here are some videos of people I like:

Super gay Kent, who's just as gay as they come and is oozing gay out of his gaylobes ever since he came to H-wood from Wapakaneta. Kent, I love you.



Lauren's young and perky, and it will probably affect her down the road when she can't do sexy-time dance moves. But I think that she's just too darn infectiously joyous for me to resist.



Okay, I guess I found a video of Robert on the show. Here he is with Courtney looking so attractive it could burn your eyes out with pretty. Too bad he's more interested in Kent than he is me.

Sometimes when I watch The City my heart swells because I like to pretend like this all isn’t incredibly scripted and that it really is a “little girl who could” story in NYC. Sometimes, like while watching this week’s episode, I just kind of want to throw things at the television and vomit into Ke$ha’s garbage bag boots. Here are some of the high-and lowlights of this episode:

1. Whitney has a big fashion trade show coming up where she can come into contact with buyers and store owners who might buy her lace leggings. It’s srs bzns and Kelly Cutrone is all hard-lined PR lady talking about questions that might be asked — aubergine this and egglant that. Those are actually the same color, but Whitney and her hair bow don’t know that so she just kind of stands there and looks vacuous and frightened — like she usually does — which I sort of just don’t get. This chick has the balls to wear a burnt orange Grandma drapery jacket but she can’t sell her own fashion line?

2. Olivia is charged with styling an Elle photo shoot for Ke$ha. I think they did this to me just so that I would have to type out K-E-dollar sign-H-A and hate my life. The party don’t start ‘til I punch Ke$ha in the face. While searching for accessories that exemplify “trashbag chic”, Olivia ends up in a store called Trash and Vaudeville. It’s my favorite kind of moment, just in general in life, because Olivia quite visibly thinks that she’s going to catch poor by being this far south of midtown. They have her try on some Bullet Boots (which are, of course, giant KISS boots with bullets and spikes on them) and she refuses to put both of the boots on. Maybe she knows something that we don’t know. Maybe if she put both of those boots on she would have lost all of her shiny hair power and gained 15 pounds and started shopping at Century 21. So she stands in her one boot, but does not walk, because that is somehow worse. She seriously says, “I’m not walking in these.” Some punked up shop girls make fun of her and she looks sad and dejected, just like that time that Blair Waldorff went to NYU and couldn't wear her headband.

3. The trade show is kind of a hot mess. People come and look at Whitney’s lamé (accent optional) jackets and unflattering pants and some stores buy some of them. A creepy Italian comes by and wants to see them on an actual person. Kelly Cutrone, in her infinite wisdom, suggests that Whitney strip down and throw on some of the clothes which is both creepy and flattering in the best kind of Kelly Cutrone way (“we don’t have a model because we have a recession going on, but who needs one when your designer looks like this).

She puts on some kind of a shiny halter thing but she’s still wearing her regular bra and it reminds me of this one time that I ended up swapping shirts with a girl at some party, thinking I looked extra hot, only to realize later that my black bra did not look so cute with the pale pink halter. The creepy Italian dude likes bra straps though, and decides to order a little bit of this and a little bit of that, sending Roxy into a frenzied panic of numbers and letters and writing. Really, she just has to fill out an order form but Roxy is not “not very good at school”, which can loosely be translated into regular world speak as, “don’t trust me around children or important papers." Even so, the trade show is a success and Whitney feels like she’s finally cutting out her piece of the pie in this crazy town.
4. Louise meets Olivia for lunch for no other reason than to defecate on Erin’s plans to turn them into enemies. They talk about Elle.com, Olivia comes off looking like an awkward robot and Louise comes off looking like a beautiful, English fairy princess. They bond over fashion and don’t eat a bite of the food that they purposefully haven’t ordered. Now, this is what NYC is really like.

5. Turns out creepy Italian dude’s order fell through, so now Whit’s stuck with all of the inventory that he promised to purchase and has no excuse to continue her side stint as a replacement model on-the-go. Roxy gets blamed because she didn’t follow up on the order but she claims that she had no idea that she was supposed to because Whitney didn’t specifically request it. After Whitney walks away, equal parts sad and mad, a mash-up of “Enter Sandman” and the Peanuts theme song plays in the background. Kelly deals Roxy some advice: "Every time you see her acting like that, just remember like, what’s going on in her head. I’m scared, I’m without my family, I might lose everything that I have, and I’m not sure about what I’m doing." It’s pretty good advice, had Whitney been any normal person trying to make it in NYC. But given that she comes from money and gets paid like $20,000 an episode to tape this god awful show, she’s not really going to be destitute if this whole Whitney Eve thing falls through.
6. The Ke$ha photoshoot happens. The “singer” in question stumbles in wearing a leotard and 6-day-old matted hair (I think her dignity’s somewhere in there!). Olivia’s aflutter with doing her fake job, suggesting high end purses that just do not go at all, and showing off the one-of-a-kind “trashbag shoes” she had designed especially for Ke$ha.

People "ooooh" and "ahhhh" over them, but they honestly look like some black heels that I tied garbage bag scraps to. Why are you bringing yourself down to this level, Joe Zee?

7. In what possibly could serve as the best catfight this season thus far, Olivia tells Erin that her “masterplan” (people say things like this?!) to “pin” she and Louise against one another isn’t working. Erin retorts that the phrase is “to pit against” and denies have such a plan, which actually probably is true. I’m sure she just wanted to show how much better an option Louise could be without all of this extra drama and Olivia still being around business. Olivia comes back with something that involves the word “whatever” and I laugh and laugh. People not knowing what words mean is funny.

The Bachelorette headed off the Iceland this week, proving that a whirlwind romantic tour ought not include cold climates. Everyone is so bundled up in parkas and peacoats that only their personalities are left to shine. It's really more of a dull glow. The weather also highlights the fact that 3/10 dudes you know bought those Russian bear hats last year, and they look like idiots when they’re standing together. Task #1 for the guys is to write Ali a love poem. So, off the men go, careening through the streets of Rychavichlandbjork and asking unsuspecting Icelanders how to say “I’m here for Ali.” Hey guys, you know what’s hilarious? Americans butchering other languages! Oh, the rest of the world, why do you even bother?

The guys perform their poems: Kirk’s is pretty good and it seems like he’s learned from last week’s Roberto-moment-of-genius and instead of screaming into the wind, walks up to Ali and recites the words of love. Frank’s is also decent, but when he walks up right after Kirk walked up, he looks like a cheap, Chinatown knock-off. Rapey Eyes, who I’d previously forgotten about until this episode forgets his lines (like, he literally says, “I forgot my lines", which makes the meta-scripting of this show sort of apparent for a split second and makes me laugh inside with glee). But although Rapey Eyes shares a facial feature with Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, he does not share the same acting ability. Not to be outdone in the “making the viewer uncomfortable” category, Kermit the Frog recites his love sonnet and boy, is it unrecognizable as the English language. To be fair, I’m sure he saw what all of the other boys were doing and sweatshirt wrapped around his neck like a babushka, but without headwear (because that would mess up his hair), he too ventured off into the Icelandic wilderness to frighten them with his voice and get another tattoo on an unnamed body part. And I’m sure somewhere in there he recited the Icelandic words for “protect and guard” but in the end they needed to subtitle him and it seemed that he ended the poem with something about her chest. I realize that this is the set-up episode for his leaving and that Ali should probably be sleeping with one eye open, but I’m gonna miss old Kermie.

Kirk wins the date and they go shopping for sweaters. It’s one of those scenes in reality television that bugs the crap out of me, where the person “looking for love” waxes poetic about how awesome the person who they’re on a date with is, simply because they’re easygoing or fun or have a sense of humor. These aren’t difficult-to-find qualities. They’re prerequisites, like having limbs and disliking Nickleback. Ali feels like Kirk’s “holding something back” (2010 candidate for most overused reality TV phrase) and I start salivating that he has some sort of a secret past as a female circus entertainer. Alas, he just has some pseudo sob-story about living in a shitty house in college that made him sick. Ali thinks that it explains why he’s so positive but I’m just wondering why living in a cheap house in college that gives you colds while simultaneously experiencing nights where your legs feel numb makes you a survivor. If I had a nickel for every time I paid rent in a house that no human should be living in and drank so much I experienced psychosomatic paralysis, I could probably buy myself a rose. It was certainly worth that for Kirk, who will be around for another week.

When the list for the group date comes to the house, everyone but Kermit the Frog and Rated X are named, setting the end of the episode up for the epic show down between the two most caricature-worthy dudes in the house. But in the meantime, Ali goes out with a whole gaggle of dudes, including my boyfriend Frank, the balding lawyer, cowboy Ty, Rapey Eyes, Roberto and the other one. Ty seems poised to win the rose given that the group is riding on horses and he’s a cowboy. God, I know they keep my office at approximately 37 degrees, but I’m getting cold just thinking about horsing around in that barren wilderness. Worst. Date. Ever. So, it comes as no surprise that when they finally reach the destination: a hot spring, that everyone strips down to their bathing suits faster than you can say, “I can’t believe he threw me under the bus.” Ali tells Frank that she feels like he’s not pushing his way to the front enough, and really, he isn’t. Probably because the idea of competing for a female like she’s a free t-shirt in a bar is perturbing.

Then the whammy happens. Rated X and Kermit head up in a helicopter with Ali to overlook the majestic snow and mountains of snow and flurrying snow and a FUCKING VOLCANO! Iceland is freaking me out, guys. They drop down and explore an ice cave with ice furniture and they call it “so cool” and the wrestler (now being referred to as “the wrestler” by Frank…lol) has his cast off so he’s feeling extra walk-y. It all looks very cold to me and it’s the worst kind of torture to make these people do their one-on-one’s sitting in the fucking snow. Not even Kermit deserves this. So, Rated X talks some Canadian and then it’s just Kermie and Ali and his tattoo and the snow and the volcano and perhaps some caribou or whatever mammals live in Iceland. Ali says that all he has to do is “be normal” which is actually kind of genius, but this is a frog we’re talking about. When he finally takes his gloves off to really tell Ali how he feels there’s still a small part of me that thinks he might be going in for the strangulation, but he ends up showing her the tattoo — its 11 studs for the 11 studs competing for her heart, the heart for her heart, the lock for his protection, and the dry skin and scabs to represent whatever grows in his throat to make him sound like that. Ali just stares straight ahead thinking, “This is how it ends. On an Icelandic volcano, my breath slowly being stripped from me by a crazed man who seems to always be underwater.” The Frog King goes on about how he hopes he can show it to his wife someday and I think he might be talking about the ladies he keeps stuffed and posed in his basement; they’re going to love the tattoo. The crazy’s just too much and Ali chooses Rated X, resulting in Kermit being left on the mountain, never to be seen again.

Back at the mansion, or whatever, the guys are getting one last chance to impress Ali, as there’s still one more of them going home. The lawyer is funny! And charming! And draws a tattoo on his wrist so that Ali can laugh about that whole debacle instead of waking up 17 times a night, checking her closet! But, he’s also balding and average-looking so I’m thinking he’ll go home next week. To contrast, there’s Rapey Eyes, who talk with Ali goes something like this:

Ali: Tell me something about yourself I wouldn’t know.
RE: My ex-girlfriend used to always say, “You’re so funny.”

And that would have been actually funny had his stilted delivery and tangible awkwardness been intentional.

Ali: What’s your biggest vice?
RE: I really like…Mexican food.

WATCH OUT EVERYBODY, THERE’S A GUY ON THE LOOSE WHO ENJOYS CHIMICHONGAS!!!

Spoiler Alert: He goes home. But Ali, that hug seemed so warm and natural!

The convoluted mess that is the Audrina/Ryan Cabrera break-up continues this week on The Hills. After awkwardly attempting to break up in a bar, then actually breaking up on a couch, then attending one of Ryan’s concerts with all of her friends, Audrina sits down with Ryan to break up with him again? Except this time, it’s for real. This whole thing is totally confusing to me and I feel like I’m the one who needs a boat trip birthday party just to try and unravel it all. But I guess it’s Audrina who needs a rest from her movie role in that one slasher movie and all of the acting that she does on The Hills and the copious amount of plastic surgery she's gotten and always staring at the ceiling. The girls (all of them, because they’re all best friends now — even after all of their infighting and boyfriend stealing and drunken screaming at each other) go shopping for Audrina and decide that jewelry is a better gift than splitting a nice dress.

Oh, Stephanie Pratt, that’s the easiest way to spot a cheap person. Just ask them to split a bill at a restaurant and watch as they elbow their way into separate checks because they’re just getting a Caesar salad and never tip above 10%. Not cool, Stephanie Pratt. Not cool. They also decide that, given the break up, that the perfect party guest would be none other than Justin Bobby! Sounds like a terrific idea to me.

Next, we see the group go out to a club to do what they do best — get sloshy drunk and have casual sex with one another! Brody has hat hair from wearing a ski-cap in SoCal and Kristin is already loopy from her fourth rum and diet. Holly Montag is even there! She doesn’t get any lines, but they just keep inviting her to things, hoping maybe they can capitalize on a little of the Montag family crazy. You’d better bring to realization those alcoholism rumors or get 17 plastic surgeries or break into someone’s house soon or you’ll be on the outs, Holly. Speaking of breaking and entering, good ‘ol Ali Lutz is there with McKaela. I’d like to think that after last week’s public admonishment of Ali, that McKaela received a bouquet of edible fruit and a note that said, “Dear McKaela, I didn’t steal anything in Brody’s home but you’ve stolen my heart. Love, Ali” and that true love has been blossoming ever since. In reality (TVLand), the producers have told the two villains from this season to show up at this club, sit on a certain couch so as to frame the shot, and harass the rest of the cast.

Ali takes it a step further and stands in front of Kristin like some sort of playground bully, finally settling in uncomfortably close to her on the couch and pleading that she is innocent. It gets confusing for me here, because Kristin tells her that she “hates her because of Brody,” but I thought that she was in the bed herself? Wouldn’t she hate her because of her own recognizance? Anywho, for whatever reason drunk Kristin does the typical drunk girl thing where she doesn’t realize that she’s touching Ali’s face while her finger flails wildly. Ali retorts that she should get her hands off of her and Kristin responds that she should get her hands off of her. Later in the night, Ali and McKaela fall asleep in each other’s arms, echoing the scene with back-and-forth repetitions of “No, I love you more.”

Awkward time at Smashbox Studios on what appears to be the next day. Kristin shows up to take Lo out to lunch (haven’t these two hated each other since high school?) and runs into McKaela while Lo is conveniently in the bathroom for a long period of time. The two newly appointed enemies squabble back and forth about how “Kristin was just mad that I was dating Brody” which was strongly shot down with the fact that “You’re not dating Brody.” That’s true, but neither are you, Kristin. No matter how many times you tell yourself that your relationship is special, you are — in the end — just another one of Brody’s jump-offs.

The best part of the episode happens when Kristin meets with ex-hookup and ex-boyfriend to her ex-enemy-turned-new-BFF Audrina, high-end European fashion model, Justin Bobby. She, in a cut-off denim vest and he, in a cut off plaid shirt being used as a vest, bond over how much of a coincidence it is that wardrobe outfitted them in similar clothes (which they keep referring to as “cut-offs”, as if that’s something that people say) then Kristin gets down to business. She thinks that JB should “be there for Audrina” on her birthday, like she’s some kind of a burn victim or something. After mumbling some nonsense about how he’ll always have feelings for Audrina, he agrees to come.

So, when the big day of Audrina’s birthday finally comes, everyone gets onto a boat captained by a grizzly old man who, no doubt, contemplates capsizing/suicide somewhere between the dock and Catalina. They frolic and Justin Bobby almost kills them all when he’s manning the boat and there are cupcakes and , of course, booze. Except for poor alcoholic Stephanie Pratt, who sips on her mini-water bottle and looks morose. Justin Bobby and Audrina have a moment on the boat where Justin says that Audrina has grown from her relationship with Ryan Cabrera and he’s grown from his many dalliances — the producers want the audience to think that the two of them are going to get together but it’s never going to happen. Audrina has a burgeoning acting/ceiling-watching career to think of.

True Blood is back guys! And it’s gayer than ever! Which, I might add, makes me love it even more. So, back in Bon Temps things are trying to get back to normal — whatever that is in a town populated by vampires and serial killers and shape-shifters and Meanads and now, werewolves! MaryAnne has been killed (thank God, that chick was annoying me!) but there are remnants of her presence all over town: the Stackhouse home is still covered in (now dead) vines, Jason is reeling with guilt from shooting an even more guilty Eggs and Tara is trying to kill herself over her grief of losing her man. And Sookie, oh, Sookie now, she’s just bereft over Beel being taken by someone after their ill begotten engagement dinner.

So, let’s tackle one thing at a time:

Tara: Sookie’s BFF done gone cray cray. She’s all sad about Eggs, which I kind of get, but wasn’t most of their time together spent in an imposed trance that neither of them could remember? How do you like this guy this much — enough to swallow a bathroom full of Lafayette meds to make the pain of losing him go away? Luckily Lafayette (wearing a stunning ensemble of a bedazzled purple jersey and low-waisted belt) breaks into the bathroom just in time to save his cousin’s life and tell her stupid mother off. If anyone deserves to be called a “hookah” by big L, it’s this lady. After her thwarted suicide attempt, Lafayette takes Tara to see his own mother, played by the incomparable Alfrie Woodard. She’s in some kind of an institution being cared for by a strapping male nurse named Jesus. If I’m right, this delicious piece in scrubs has a good degree of chemistry with sassy Lafayette, and we’ll be seeing more of him later in the season. If we play our cards right, hopefully we’ll be seeing more of Lafayette’s mom too because racist diatribes aside, she’s as interesting a character as this show has seen. It also doesn’t hurt that she provides terrific acting fodder for Lafayette — a scene in which he claimed to be working 2 real jobs (and a big illegal one) to pay for her medical bills because he didn’t want her around was as subtly played as anything that I’ve seen on TV this season. After the hospital visit that was supposed to show Tara what she could end up like if she doesn’t straighten up (some nonsense about VooDoo evil in the family or some bullshit) Lafayette takes her to work with him because she can’t be left out of his sight. So, while Lafayette flips burgers, Tara gets drunk at the bar. Who comes in but a mysterious vampire looking for TruBlood and asking why Tara is there. She, of course, responds that she’s trying not to kill herself and this intrigues the new guy who is wearing some pretty spectacular cowboy boots (more on that later). Later in the parking lot some rednecks are pissing (literally) on Eggs’ grave, so Tara drunkenly goes after them. They respond with a round of racist comments and vampire dude swoops in the save the day. At first he seems to have a chivalrous Beel Compton moment but his “Apologize to the lady” soon turns into a bloodthirsty lust that comes with Tara punching the shit out of these guys. The fangs come out and a new relationship is hinted at.

Jason: After shooting Eggs in a moment when he thought he was protecting Andy, Jason has been forced to corroborate the story that Andy killed Eggs in self-defense. But now that Andy’s being treated like the local hero for offing the serial killer, Jason seems to want in on the action, and nothing is making him feel better. Not a threesome with NYU co-eds, not shots down at Merlottes (I, for one, think that it’s a bit insensitive to be drinking around Andy while he’s trying to recover from his alcohol problem), so Andy takes him along for a meth lab bust. Andy tells him to sit still in the car but of course Jason (so stupid but soooooo dreamy) wanders out into the woods to chase a girl who he sees wandering around. It’s certainly not the most logical thing to do, but Jason Stackhouse has about 3 screws loose. After the mysterious chick runs away faster than you can say, “Werewolf in Bon Temp”, a meth offender comes running out and Jason tackles him to the ground. See? All of that bible army training did pay off!

Sookie: Anna Paquin and her gap tooth are wandering around anywhere they can, looking for some news on where Beel Compton went. After finding a car full of dead guys with werewolf brandings, she tells Eric about her super-sleuthing and he lies to her, telling her that he knows nothing about it. Then, at Merlottes she sees a lurker in the forest and runs out to yell at him. What a fucking idiot! God, I wish Terry hadn’t been there and instead of finding those man-to-werewolf tracks she had actually been ripped to pieces and fed upon, never to be seen again. But, it didn’t happen, and now we’re left with Sookie stomping around her house, trying to clean up after MaryAnne and failing at acting her way out of that paper bag. Eric, feeling “disturbingly human” after seeing Sookie cry decides to check up on her at the Stackhouse home and make sure that there aren’t any werewolves coming after her. Good thing, too, since after asking her to ask to invite him in — and have lots of raw, animalistic sex with him — he demands it, only to find a werewolf already there! Oh, shit! I thought there was going to be an awesome fight but then Sookie shot (something) and the episode ended with me hanging, as usual. Why are all of these men so drawn to Sookie? I don’t really see her appeal but that’s probably because of how horrific the actor is playing her.

Beel: Before we get to what Bill’s doing, let’s talk about what’s going on in his house. Jessica still has her stinking corpse hidden underneath the floorboards in the closet and she’s asking Pam for tips on what to do with the body. The pairing is actually sort of genius and I like Pam much more as a mother-figure to Jessica than I do Sookie. But when Jessica rents herself a chainsaw and tries to dispose of her waste, she runs into poor dolt Hoyt who just wants to be with her so that they can work on their problems together. It sucks that Jessica slams the door on his face, because I’ll take a whole hour of looking at Hoyt. I have a crush on that boy. And the problems don’t end there for Jessica. When she goes looking for the body, it’s no where to be found. I think it might have something to do with the mysterious person searching through Beel’s house, nosing around in hidden drawers at SECRET FUCKING FILES pertaining to Sookie Stackhouse. Something tells me that Beel has an idea about what Sookie is, and something also tells me that the mysterious somebody being nosy and stealing bodies likes his cowboy boots sassy.

So, not on the homefront, Beel has been kidnapped by a bunch of werewolves and suddenly realizes that he’s in Mississippi (after feeding off of some poor, old lady) — sparking a frenzied rush to get the hell out of there. But that’s not to be since he’s surrounded by werewolves and is forced to systematically take out legs and ears and leave them whimpering and naked in the forest. After Beel does his ass-kicking, the muthafuckin’ King of Mississippi rides up on a steed. He commands the werewolves to get off of Beel’s nuts and asks Beel to join him at his castle plantation. It’s all very regal and elegant and begins to make sense when his fabulous husband enters the picture. I don’t remember his name but we’ll call him Armando for the time being because, let’s face it, he looks and acts like an Armando, what with his Blood Gelato and volunteer drainings. There’s an elaborate dinner where the King explains that he wants to marry the Queen of Louisiana (for title and power only, there’s Armando to consider) but she’s a little tepid on the idea. So, in order to force the resolution, he needs dirt on the Queen, dirt that he’s convinced that Beel knows. Beel, of course, knows some shit on the Queen but won’t give it up for all of the Sheriff titles and cactus plantations in the world! He’s just an innocent vampire who wants to live in Bon Temps and bang a waitress. It’s all getting a little tense when in comes Lorena, looking dashing in riding chaps, and Beel can’t take anymore so he hurls a gas lamp at her (of course there would be one on the mantle) and lights her ass on fire. The gifs are priceless.

Sam: Having gone off on a vision quest to find his family, Sam succeeds! He stumbles into the upgraded trailer home of Mr. and Mrs. Greaseburn at gunpoint from his little brother and gets to hear all about how his parents didn’t know if he would be a “shifter” (his mom is, his dad isn’t) and how they hoped that they could give him a better life by selling him to the Merlottes. Well, turns out they were wrong and Sam boo-hoos to his brother about it, who in turn boo-hoos about living in his broke-down trailer and after a pissing match of “who needs therapy more” that's very exhausting, they decide to go for a run. When Sam turns into his adorable Collie-mix, Little Bro chuckles and changes into a massive pitbull. They run and frolic and it’s fun bonding time until Baby Sam tries to get big Sam hit by a truck. Hey, it beats Thanksgiving at my house!

Other News: Flashback to Eric and Godric as SS officers undercover trying to infiltrate the secret werewolf Nazi regime that is being bossed around by (presumably) the King of Louisiana. We miss you Godric! You look so dashing in that uniform!

In this edition of The Hills, we veer away from the real life going on in last week’s episode and fall back into the reality TV zone.

Stephanie has a second date with that lacrosse player dude who looks like a turtle, and to make it as non-awkward as possible, they decide to eat dinner at her apartment. Oh, Stephanie’s apartment. Remember when Heidi kicked Spencer out and he just sort of lazed around Stephanie’s apartment and acted like a dickhead? Remember Spencer? Gosh, he was a real character, wasn’t he? So, anyway there’s salad that Steph refuses to eat because she “knows how it was made” (what does that even mean?!) and the nice guy brings Girl Scout cookies. It’s actually pretty cute. That is, until the guy starts talking about hanging out with his brother and Stephanie chimes in with the fact that she has a brother too — in a wistful sort of voice that makes their days of visiting Nana seem oh, so long ago. (BTDubz, reports say that no one ever visits Nana anymore and that she’s totally bereaved about it, sitting there on her floral couch, thinking longingly of Heidi's golden weave.) She spills the beans that they haven’t talked at all in about five months and that ever since she got her DUI, it’s been all downhill. It all comes spilling out of her mouth like a stinking hot puke pile. I get that she doesn't want to feel like she's lying to the boy but this is your first one-on-one date, he doesn’t need to know every damn thing about you.

Later she talks to Lo about how she just isn’t ready, and that it would probably be more healthy for her to find someone who is also sober to date anyhow. I guess that makes sense, but isn’t this girl constantly out at the clubs? Isn’t that endangering her sobriety?
McKaela goes out to lunch with Ali and they have a talk about whether or not the “intense” rumors are true — god, that’s such a producer thing to write. Real life people don’t say that shit is intense. They say that it’s insane or confusing or batshit crazy. Anywho, Ali responds with an explanation that Brody in fact let her into the house and he was totally worried about the ring that she lost. It doesn’t sound like the tale that she told in the last episode and she’s legit starting to look a little crazy. But now that Spencer and Heidi are gone, I suppose that crazy is just what we need on this show.
This is also the episode where MTV makes Audrina break up with Ryan Cabrera. It all starts when all of the crew is up in the club, and who walks in but Justin Bobby. Ryan gets all uncomfortable, probably because the rest of the girls are acting like wild banshees who have just won the drama golden ticket. Audrina’s acting a little uncomfortable too — like maybe she’s been caught somehow? Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but this chick looks a whole like a classic ho whose sidepiece just walked into the restaurant she’s at with her boyfriend. JB is “looking good” according to Kristin and Stacey the Bartender. I think he looks like a homeless Jawa. That’s right—I just used a Star Wars reference.

He shakes Audrina’s hand and it’s really awkward, but then the really interesting part happens. Justin Bobby starts talking about Ryan Cabrera as if he’s gotten some kind of a tattoo in Hell’s Kitchen and now he’s the protector of his heart. He compares himself to Ryan, calling him “another rocker guy” and talking about the “rock lifestyle. It’s laughable on both counts. Look, Ryan Cabrera’s sub-pop brand of acoustic nothingness really ought not to be referred to as rock music and you Justin Bobby, are not even legitimate enough to be able to receive a label. He goes on and on about how Audrina went through too much with him and how she “doesn’t deserve that anymore.” Anymore?! So, she deserved it before? The best part of the whole thing is when JB tries to act like some sort of chivalrous gentleman and shake Ryan’s hand and Ryan hold true to his high-five edict from earlier in the season by saying, “I high five.” Justin Bobby does NOT high-five. Who the fuck do you think he is? Are you aware that he owns a custom-built motorcycle? So, like many great polititians of lore, Ryan counters with a compromise: the “high fist bump.” Fucking genius.

Ryan decides that they should leave soon because the whole thing is awkward and he just wants to spend time with his girlfriend. That seems sensible to me, but not to Audrina. Her moral compass has told her that wanting to leave a drama tornado was totally a pussy move. This was his chance to stand his ground! He should have stood up for himself! God, remember how much of a dreamboat Justin Bobby was? This stability and respect thing is just so unexciting! I want to get on the back of that bike again! The last straw for A was seeing Ryan whine to her in concert with some “You Came Into My Life and Suddenly I Started Shitting Tulips” song. She asks, “Can you tell that I’m crying with my sunglasses?” Stephanie responds, “Yeah, kind of. Your lips.” You know who wouldn’t have had this problem? Heidi. Full facial overhauls are useful. As she’s told him earlier, the honeymoon stage of their relationship is over and it’s particularly bothersome that people around her notice that something’s off when they’re all out. This, of course, is totally worse than her emotionally abusive, one-sided relationship with dude-you’d-like-to-bring-home-to-mom, JB.

The main drama of the episode is reserved for the Nylon Magazine party, of which the entire cast is in attendance. Wow, Nylon, that totally worked. I do love The Hills and I am now sufficiently intrigued to go purchase your magazine. So, Brody’s there with Frankie J. and then the girls walk up — Kristin looking like some kind of Klingon with that ‘do (Star Trek and Star Wars in the same blog?!) and then the unimaginable happens. McKaela — now fully connected since her entry-level job at SmashBox Studios has made her a lady about town — is there and she’s brought the dreaded Ali Lutz. Everyone is aghast because, as we discussed last week, Ali Lutz is the second coming of Hitler. McKaela marches straight into the lion’s den and desperately pleads with Brody to call her sometime, anytime. Please… please?

And then Kristin lets loose her claws. McKaela tries to say that she wanted to be her friend but Kristin has clearly had four or more tequila shots and is beyond the point of reason. She starts screaming at McKaela about not being a bitch and screaming at Ali ( who has now come into the fold to call everyone jealous and call herself hot — um… yeah…) McKaela limps off like a sad puppy, telling Ali that she’s ruined everything! This seems like the perfect time for Brody to tell Kristin how much she means to him and the tequila seems to be taking it pretty well. Looks like a lose of a night for McKaela. Maybe next time, slugger.

I’m going to preface this entry about Bravo’s new show, Work of Art: The Next Great Artist, by saying that I am not an art expert. I tend not to “get” modern art (pop elements discluded) and I know about as much about the process of creating art, real art — not the crap that’s mass-produced for middle-American walls — as I do about physics or car repair. Which is to say, not much. But like dance, I have an immense respect for art that can only be placed on the border of awe and reverence, because I can’t do it. I’m good at a lot of things. I can write and sing and accessorize with the best of them, but I cannot learn choreography and I cannot draw a human being — or sculpt anything that resembles what I was attempting to make, or dream up the sort of landscapes that the people on this show (and in workshops, spare rooms, basements, studios and garages all over the country do). And so it is from a decidedly non-expert but respectful place that I approach watching this show.

The set-up is that artists from all different mediums tackle challenges every week to try and win an exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum of Art, which for a modern artist is almost as good as showing at MoMA. The concept is similar to most Bravo competition shows, and in keeping with something like Top Chef, drama is mostly passed over in favor of concentrating on the highbrow creative stuff. It’s refreshing — and entertaining (even my boyfriend likes to watch!) — and it’s such a credit to both art and television as a medium that entertainment can also be educational, highbrow can meet lowbrow to make something important but frightening (to a mass populace that’s used to the sort of shit that I post about on my blog) palatable for the Average Joe. So, bravo, Bravo! Now I feel comfortable to rip apart these really talented peoples’ works!

Nicole- “Tomb”: When Nicole found this huge old console I was excited about the possibilities. It’s probably something that I would have gravitated toward (mostly because on my "Top 5 Things to Make Before I Die" list is creating a fishtank from a television and I basically would want to paint this white and fit an aquarium inside and stick a nice vase on top). Nicole went in another direction, encasing various technological gadgets found at the “electronics cemetery” in cement in order to represent the death of technology and the role that time plays in casting aside older things. I think. I don’t really know, it was all very conceptual. Nicole doesn’t really bother me — I think that her conceptual art was well thought out without being pretentious, something that’s really tough to do. But it wasn’t visually stimulating to me. It didn’t make me feel, it made me think. I’m of the opinion that the best art ought to do both.

Jaclyn- “Transmit”: They didn’t really spend much of the episode explaining this, but from what I can tell it’s an overwrought metaphor. A piece of electronics being drowned, then being hung, then trapped in an artistic frame. I’m trying really hard to get it, but mostly I just think that Jaclyn is trying really hard to make some big comment on technology. Ugh.

Trong- "What Would Tom Friedman Do?": Trong’s awesome hair created three small TV’s looking at one larger TV. The three smaller ones are painted with colorful static and phrases like “I hate reality TV” and “I’m a PC”, while the larger one said, “Up next: WWTFD?” Which begs the question, who is Tom Friedman? Why, he’s a bougey art critic who, blee de largh blah. Guess what Tran, people don’t get it. Your art was incredibly self-serving and, as the judges pointed out, just plain self-referential, which means that anyone beyond you won't like it. Apparently one of them also accused him of not being an artist but being a curator and a writer, which is most likely true. It’s like Tran thought about the formula of art, what works and what doesn’t. What makes him feel. What he should be doing. But execution is different than understanding, and not all of those who understand the formula are able to plug it into something that ignites. Tran is eliminated and it’s probably for the best. I will miss your haircut Tran. I really, really will.


Ryan- “Zebra Vacuum Spiral"- Fuck this shit. This is a pile of crap that was painted black and white. Fuck it.

Peregrine- "A Conversation Between a Widow and Herself": Sometimes when I go to a museum I don’t initially understand a piece, and then I read the title and it all makes sense. In the best cases, the title causes me to linger at the piece thinking about it and taking its point of conception into consideration. I’m sure that art purists think that is cheating, that art ought to stand alone. That if the piece needs its title placard to make sense, then it hasn’t succeeded. I’d like to think that even in the most wordless spaces that the efficacy and beauty of language still has a place. But hey, I’m a writer, so you’d probably expect that. This piece is one of those that didn’t make much sense to me until I read the title. I think that it translated Peregrine’s own sweet sadness into a thematic commentary on loss, humanity and television in a way that is both critical and respectful of the place of TV in our lives.

Judith- "Ain't No Grave": Even crazy ol’ bat Judith couldn’t really explain what this piece was, and that’s probably because it’s just shit arranged to look like shapes. Why did we not get to hate on her pussy painting with a blanket over it last week? Why must we be subjected to this crap? Because she’s old? Because her work was representative of the feminist movement 40 years ago? Modern times change, and you have to change with them. You should have made some art about that, Judith.

Miles- "Worst Place”: Miles says that he has ADD and OCD but I think that he actually has Aspergers, explaining both his OCD symptoms and his inability to concentrate, as well as his blatant social awkwardness. He’s fast emerging as the golden boy of the competition, and although he had immunity from winning last week he pulled out another win here. He seems to have a leg-up on the competition given that he’s so well-versed in such a variety of medium techniques but the way that these things work is that they set you up so that you can fall, and frankly I’m a bit worried about how Miles is going to take failure. This week though he’s still on top, with a piece that incorporated performance art (he fell asleep in the gallery!) and a couple of cement assholes. Like, actual assholes. Visually, the setup is stunning. His screen printing work on both the rucksack/mattress/circuit board and (assumedly, although I’m not 100% on the medium here) the red circle overhead. While I don’t understand what the hell any of it means, I like it. So, there you go Miles. Now, try and keep your mouth shut at the judging panel.

Jaime Lynn- "Death of the Family Appliances": In defense of JL, she’s the artist whose work I would probably most likely hang in my home. She’s a painter with a whimsical air and an affection for all of the things that I love (jewels and crowns and gold and color and anything historical or vintage), but damn girl. You are not really understanding sculpture are you? This looks like a hot mess set piece in a Tim Burton film and I hope that you make a comeback next week.

Nao- “Mama”: I must begin with the warning that I really don’t like Nao. I don’t get her schtick when other people do it. I’m very picky about photographers. I think that she has a terrible attitude and I want her gone. That said, this piece is one of my favorites from this piece. It represents NYC in the best and worst possible ways and also uses the metropolis as a platform to comment on modernity — even alluding to Metropolis. You get a pass this week Nao, but I’ve got my eye on you.

Mark- "Dia de los Televisiones": The piece is perhaps a bit too obvious, but I like it. It’s a kitschy commentary on the alter of television and also incorporates cultural elements that are often overlooked in the white-washed art world. But if this dude goes back to his pseudo-pornographic photography BS, I’m gonna be pissed.

Abdi- “Tube”- Abdi, my love. I have not seen a piece in your portfolio or that you’ve created on the show that I wouldn’t have in my home. I think that you — and this piece — are a perfect representation of the show itself, the coming together of high art and pop culture. Basically, this sculpture is my childhood too, and I love you for it.

Erik- “Untitled”: Here’s the thing, Eric: I want to like you. I want the little guy to be able to make it in the big, bad, snobby art world. But there really is something to be gained from just breathing among other artists, to traveling down the traditional paths. Your instincts are good and you obviously have talent but your pieces look like high school art projects. I hope you learn from the next few weeks because you deserve to leave soon.

John- “New Stock: I don’t know. There was some story about having a crush on his friend’s older brother and something about him always having new pieces of technology in his room but I don’t really understand it. Not the worst. Not the best.

It’s that time again, guys! The Real World is back for installment # 678 (now with more herpies!) and they’re returning to old haunt New Orleans because where else are they going to go? Orlando? St. Louis? Guam? Remember the original Real World: New Orleans? I do, and I feel really fucking old. I loved super gay Danny and his pixelated-face boyfriend in the Army. Isn’t it nice to see that after all this time Don’t Ask Don’t Tell has been repealed and…oh, what?...it’s still in effect. Huh, that seems like the slowest civil rights movement ever. So, there was hot gay Danny and crazy Morman Julie and Melissa who stripped and inspired me to make little paintings with animals wearing scarves on them, and there was also David of da-bo-dee-blah-bo-dah fame and that was possible the best thing to happen on reality television ever. So new kids, you’ve got a lot to live up to. Can they do it? Here are my initial thoughts based on the totally unscientific and judgmental process of reading about them on MTV.com and Vevmo.

Knight: His name is actually Ryan Knight but like all awesome people and/or douchebags he goes by his last name. He used to be a collegiate and semi-professional hockey player (who wracked up A LOT of penalty time) but then he got injured and done got addicted to pain killers. Lest we believe that MTV was responsible in any way, shape or form, they’ve placed a recovering addict with anger issues on Bourbon Street.
Defining Features: Gap between two front teeth, bro hair.
Most Likely To: Get into an ill-fated relationship with a roommate.

Jemmye: Without fail, every year they give me someone with a ridiculous name to blog about. This chick is from Mississippi and she does not give a fuck about what the culture down there thinks! She loves gays! She smokes weed! She dates black dudes! I’ll sum up her bio for you — she’s a ho. The most interesting/disturbing part is this: "She enjoys casual sex with no commitment… Jemmye frequently discusses the intimate details of her sex life with her mom.” Defining Features: Tattoos, Vagina tattoo.
Most Likely To: Slut it up with roommates and locals alike.

Eric: Look at those eyes. Look at those mf-ing eyes! Dude is hot. He works for the state, traveling around the world to do whatever-it-is-that-he-does and also does stand-up comedy at night. His bio says that he’s a “ladies man” and a message board poster referred to him as “fairly well-spoken”, so there’s your free piece of racism for the week.
Defining Features: Did I mention those eyes?
Most Likely To: Romance one too many ladies and piss me off.

Sahar: This chick is a Muslim from Deerborn, Michigan which is kind of like saying that she’s an Irish Catholic from Boston. She’s also a “singer and actress” who goes by the moniker “Hollywood” and who was in the International Thespian Society in high school. Basically, she sucks. A lot. I’m sure that I will dislike her with all of the fury that I did Ayiiiiiiiiia.
Defining Features: Gross mole above her lip, grating overconfidence.
Most Likely To: Talk about her political and religious affiliations while making herself look like the exact opposite of everything that these represent.

Ashlee: Jesus Christ, can we stop with these vowels already? This is the ugly one, and in this cast, that’s saying something. She’s an “athlete” which means that they cast her on this season so that she can compete on Challenges. She was the captain of her D1 basketball team, so I’m not going to take that athlete label all that seriously. In her bio she claims that, yes, her lips are real and I would hope to god so, because those things are not cute.
Defining Features: Fish Lips, Tacky “Going Out” Clothes, Body type of a Lumberjack.
Most Likely To: Start fights because she’s not getting any attention.

Preston: He has a hyphenated last name and wears bowties a lot. He also had a crack-head mommy and is fabulously gay so I’m a bit worried about there just being random screaming matches after too many Margatinis. Here’s the other thing: why can we never just have two black dudes on this show? Why does one have to be flamboyant so that the other can choose not to hang out with him? Would the MTV world explode if two black men bonded?
Defining Features: Bowties, Wire-rims, Tight Pants, Bulge.
Most Likely To: Get in a wagging-finger-in-your-face fight.

McKenzie: In a feeble attempt to appear “different” this chick stuck a sandstar in her hair. A sandstar. Who the f do you think you are? Brooke Shields? Her facebook and MTV profile paint her as a pseudo-hippie. Unfortunately for her, that’s my least favorite type of person. She was also in Delta Delta Delta and has lived in the same small, Florida town her entire life. Welcome to The Real World annoyingly-spelled name girl. You’re about to be scarred for life. If you want to be annoyed, take a look at her tumblr.
Defining Features: Long mermaid hair, sea creatures used as hair pins.
Most Likely To: Lose her religion.

Ryan: What a special flower this kid is. The previews show him being annoying and his roommates ostrasizing him. His bio tries really hard to prove to us that he’s “unique”and that his OCD and ADHD are to blame for his neuroses. I say that a dude who not only seeks out hair styling as a profession but gives himself those tresses is just asking for it. The interwebs tell me that he’s in a band with that Brittany chick who won Paris Hilton’s BFF and was her fake friend for awhile so it seems that he runs with famewhores. Hooray!
Defining Feature: Haircut that looks like a comic book drawing, smirk on his face.
Most Likely To: Create superficial drama.

So, there you have it. I leave you with pictures of the tacky, tacky house — where decorators thought that beads were a fair replacement for actual taste. Also, dead foliage.