I am screaming and punching myself

7-2 A tragic story can't overcome a tragic photo

Sometimes I think America's Next Top Model is the most cruelly illogical show on TV. For one thing, about 85% of its contestants are mentally or emotionally unstable. For another, the criteria for success are highly subjective. And worst of all, the comments from the judges are flamingly inconsistent and arbitrary. (I might be somewhat influenced by my anger that the TiFaux cut out at 8:55 and I had to call J to see who got axed.)

But seriously, what the hell was up with giving them makeovers and then slappin' ridiculous wigs on 'em for the photo shoot? This show makes no damn sense!

Four on the floor

I was relieved that nobody got cut in this semi-final episode. Given a choice between Michael and Neck-Boy, I was worried that the judges would pick the drama dingus rather than the usually-dependable achiever who made a misstep. Although, frankly, everybody choked a bit. What is it with the penultimate challenge that brings out the timidity in some, the desperation in others and the inspiration in damn near nobody?

A reason to watch A&E again?

Just when I'd given up on tuning in for anything other than the occasional new episode of Intervention, A&E serves up what could be one of the most entertaining premises in reality TV since Flavor of Love. It's called The Coreys: Return of the Lost Boys. Oh, yeah. Them.

Ever since I heard this news, I've been singing to myself, to the tune of "The Fat Boys Are Back":
The Coreys are back
And you know they will always be wack

And yes, I do the human beatbox.

Feeling romantical

I was just thinking about my beloved sweetie Jason, how great he is, how much I adore him -- you know, I don't think my paltry words can express how I feel. So let me turn it over to a master.

(The bit on the phone is the best! "Maybe this will help for all the bad things I've done... So no matter what happens..." Why do I suspect a restraining order might have been involved in this relationship at some point?)

The original (yes, I've heard this on the album, and thank you for that, Felicia!) doesn't have the vocal group contributing their harmonies. It's just 'Nilla and a Casio keyboard sharing their unholy love. 'Cause they love you.

2-8: Whine Country

There was a distinctly nasal tone to this week's episode. Between Bootz's snapping, Krazy's singing and New York's perpetual pouting and complaining, I'm surprised my own sinuses didn't start vibrating out of some sort of sympathetic resonance.

Let me just say this preemptively: shut the fuck up, all y'all skanks. You too, Flav.

7-1 America's Next Top Hard-Luck Case

Yeah. I can't really get behind "America's Next Top Model" as any legitimate kind of model search because, to my eye, damn near none of these contenders look particularly attractive. Besides, America's actual next top model is 14, already has a contract and hasn't taken a solid dump in about a year. So ANTM is really more of a scholarship pageant for the stupid and plain hosted by a big ol' ham who can't let you go more than 15 seconds without seeing her face.

I mean, really. Them?

Self-serving quick link update

Holecity has my review of Hollywoodland and The Black Dahlia up. Seeing The Black Dahlia prompted me to go back and re-read the novel by James Ellroy. I read it in less than a day. Such ugly, brutal, gripping stuff. I'm not sure I even want to know the true story; Ellroy's tale is so much more involving, so much more real to me.

There's also a pretty good discussion thread on The Black Dahlia and Brian De Palma's direction at Cinemarati. (There, I'm known as gadgetgirl.)

I would like to say this to all filmmakers, though: Ixnay on the torchy trumpet music during the sex scenes. If you've got to use a trumpet -- and really, do you? -- pick something other than the sleazy minor-key ramblings like those used in The Black Dahlia. It starts to sound really porn-ish after a while. Play "Reveille." Play "Flight of the Bumblebee." Anything else.

2-7: The Gloves Come Off

I'm still just dumbstruck by how much vitriol and drama is stirred up in the name of Flav. This episode seemed to be one nonstop fight between various skanks in different permutations. For the first time, though, we saw a clear team strategy, as Buckeey, Deelishis and Bootz joined forces against Krazy and New York. Not that New York is on Krazy's side; the only crazy New York sides with is her own.

My thoughts exactly, Big Rick. (Good to see you again!)

All my squiddy friends are coming over tonight

True story: I was delighted to see a fresh episode of Squidbillies on the TiFaux, and positively a-tingle with excitement due to the episode's title: "Government Bra." Well, it turned out to be "Government Brain Voodoo Trouble"; I guess it got truncated somehow. And it was all right, but once you've got your heart set on something called "Government Bra," anything else is gonna fall short.

She's not doing this with him todaaaaaaaaaaay

Or any other day, apparently. To my utter astonishment, Whitney Houston has filed for divorce from Bobby Brown. I'm still waiting to see if it'll take, honestly, because I can't imagine these two separate from each other.

And that was love, or so I certainly thought. Didn't they almost have it all?