1-2: Because you can't spell "mangeant" without "mange"

Well, the honeymoon is over. I knew sooner or later New York would return to her obnoxious form, and I'd resume actively disliking her. Oh, well. At least I learned a new word this week: "mangeant." Yes, it's a beauty pageant for men.

Sadly, I can't remember if this reaction is to Onix's fineness, Romance's spaz-dance, 12-Pack's abs or Mr. Boston's bare ass. Oh, yeah. Brace yourselves.

I've got to say, this show has already given me many moments of delightful absurdity. For instance, let's enjoy the cognitive dissonance here:

Yeah, nothing says "health consciousness" like doing a bench press while puffing on a Marlboro. Go for the burn there, 12-Pack. Similarly bizarre is this outfit sported by Whiteboy, as New York announces the impending mangeant.

What the hell is he wearing? Is that a monk's robe? Is it one piece or two? Did he steal the uniform of a UPS worker several feet taller than himself? Does he realize he looks like a burnt Ball Park Frank standing upright?

Soon, however, I will long for the sight of the oddly garbed dudes, for this is to be a swimsuit competition, with all the ill-advised semi-nudity that entails. New York has three former beauty queens on hand to coach the dudes. And while I anticipated that at least one of the guys would hit on the coaches, none of them did. (I interpret this to mean that they're scared of New York, which is only logical.)

Apparently, the contest will involve some sort of dance movement at the end of the runway. How else to explain this sight?

Meanwhile, Mr. Boston is resorting to similarly desperate measures, figuring that the only way to get New York's attention despite his rather ... distinctive body shape is to rock the thong.

See what I mean? He appears to be a Large on top and an Extra Small on the bottom, like a set of pajamas that got screwed up at the warehouse. Nonetheless, I'm starting to like Mr. Boston for his spirit.

I'm not at all sure we should be seeing this. This shot was taken after he was informed by Onix that the testicles go inside the pouch and not... I don't want to know where they were, frankly. And yes, everyone in the room is laughing at him.

The pain and humiliation of mangeant preparation aren't limited to selecting clothing that sexually harasses its wearer, though. Several of the dudes undergo waxing, and not all of them have an easy time of it.

I don't get Pootie, here. You can withstand a ... what is that, a tarantula tattoo? on your shoulder, but the waxing makes you howl?

And then there's T-Weed. This guy fascinates me because he looks different every single time I see him. Like, here, he looks like a 40-year-old, trying-too-hard mess.

But here, he looks quite nice, like a darker-skinned Luther during one of his thinner phases.

And here, he looks like a dude in pain.

One of the pageant coaches impresses upon Bonez that he needs to make lots of eye contact with New York. What makes it great is that she's using, I believe, the Mongoose style of Kung Fu to make her point. Damn, I need to learn how to make animated GIFs; this would be a classic.

At last, it's mangeant time! New York, Mama New York and Chamo are the judges, and the event is hosted by Big Boy, an LA radio personality. (No, not the guy from Outkast. This show ain't got that kind of money.)

I think this is Tango, and I applaud the job he's done diverting attention from the squidginess of his midsection by putting a message on it.

It's not easy to look hot while doing The Robot. All the judges love Onix, and so, might I add, does the camera.

True story: underneath the "What is Ritalin?" video from last week's episode that I posted on YouTube are several comments that essentially state: Chance is sexy. I totally don't see it, but for you Chance lovers out there, this shot is for you. 'Cause we don't see much more of Bobby Beige ('cause he's like a watered-down Bobby Brown) this episode.

New York's mom is disturbed by Pootie's girl-butt. I'm disturbed by the aggressive way he ran his hands through his hair and kissed his own bicep. I think he might have assaulted himself on that runway, and that's just not right.

But if Pootie's butt bothers Mama NY, T-Weed's inner thigh flat-out horrifies her. She claims to have seen something "green and mossy" growing there. I think it's just a combination of pubes, lighting and a slight case of ash. Still, the coach should have caught that before T-Weed hit the runway. (I also think Mama NY is looking for any excuse to disqualify T-Weed so she can have him all to herself.)

Bonez wins my heart, first for his personal salute to Flashdance, then for saying, "Sexiness comes from creativity, personality... and throwing water on yourself." Love him.

Then, Whiteboy comes out, looking like the third runner-up in a Kevin Federline lookalike contest. New York has a major thing for Whiteboy, and even this dance, which I have dubbed "The Turkey Leg," doesn't dampen her fire.

Mr. Boston prepares for what is surely the world premiere of his butt, based on its cadaver-like coloring. He picks up a few beauty tips backstage...

... and then flaunts his booty in all its unexfoliated glory.

Well done, Mr. Boston. Now put some damn pants on. Incredibly, this was not the most mortifying moment from the mangeant. No, that belonged to Romance. Does that surprise you? It shouldn't.

I love the look of intense concentration on his face as he mixes obscene booty dances with barefoot horsemanship. That boy can't get right.

New York selects the top 5 finalists, who go on to the question-and-answer round: Real, Onix, 12-Pack, Whiteboy and Romance. This is Romance's response to being called:

He drops down out of the frame in a victory kneel so fast, the camera couldn't follow him. (Shooting this guy must be exhausting, 'cause you never know what he'll do. It's like filming Pete Doherty or something.)

Most of the dudes mess up their answers. When asked about premarital sex, Real says he doesn't believe in it, which New York does not want to hear. When Chamo asks Onix, "If I were a car, how would you drive me?", Onix answers the question as if it were asked by New York (a fair assumption, I'd say, but New York was looking for an answer that indicated Onix wouldn't like to drive Chamo at all). When asked about his greatest disappointment, Romance talks about what a hard life his mom had. New York says that she's tired of hearing Romance's sad stories, and I'm wondering why the hell she asked him about disappointments if she didn't want to hear something sad.

When asked who he'd like to be if he couldn't be a sketchy-looking dude with a bad semi-stache, Whiteboy says he'd like to be Michael Jordan. New York is impressed that he'd like to be a black man, but I considered this to be one of the lamest answers possible, because everybody has, at some point or another, wanted to be Michael Jordan. It's the same with 12-Pack's saying that the person he most admires is his dad. Everybody answers that.

Frustrated by New York's lame questions and pedestrian standards, I almost exclaim, "What, is she stupid or something?" Then I remember that yeah, she kinda is, and it all makes a little more sense.

The three finalists will win a date with New York the next day, the first runner-up will win an autographed pair of panties from New York (shudder) and the winner will win some one-on-one time with New York. Lucky him? The top three are Onix, 12-Pack (who wins the undies) and the winner is...

I have got to find out if Big Boy will perform at parties out of town.

The dudes change into something more dignified (that being a relative term), and reconvene outside for the evening's pool party. But before the pageant coaches depart, Trendz wants to share something with them.

Reality TV participants never learn, do they? Don't bring the demo to the show itself; put your songs on your MySpace, so we can all laugh at them.

Outside, New York has brought her little dog out to meet the dudes. I think the critter's name is Your Majesty (although it would be awesome if it were Jermajesty), and she seems nice enough, for a shake-and-pee dog.

While Romance wonders if he can legally marry the dog, 12-Pack ponders how many grams of lean protein it may contain. Romance, of course, loves the dog and cuddles it for the rest of the evening.

T-Weed, Whiteboy and Chance all mock Romance's cuddle session with the dog. "Did he just kiss the dog on the mouth?" Look, let he who hath never adjusted his Mr. Mangeant sash cast the first stone against puppy kisses as ridiculous behavior.

Rico might not have been a finalist in the mangeant, but he places first in the race to hop into the hot tub with New York. She and Rico are enjoying a therapeutic soak, when...

Oh, Pootie, you little instigator. Pootie tattles on Trendz; New York calls Trendz over to the hot tub and asks him about his demo; Rico looks disgruntled (and slightly prune-y) on the sidelines.

Upstairs, New York gathers all the dudes together and goes off on some weird tangent about how she's had her heart broken twice and she doesn't want to be lied to or used again and ...

Pootie, you sly dog, going in for the hug like that. What with the butt and all, I'm starting to wonder if Pootie might, in fact, be a scheming eighth-grade girl in disguise.

The next day, New York is pulled aside by Romance and told that 12-Pack has mentioned a girlfriend waiting in the wings. What follows is one of the great moments in bad acting.

"Uh-huh. Oh, wait, crap, I'm supposed to be upset. Dammit!" Now, I'm not sure that Romance is on the level here. It seems a little convenient for him to be revealing this now, but I'm not going to complain, as it has resulted in this classic scene:

I hope the editors for this show love their jobs as much as I love watching the results.

We are never told why Chamo is dressed as Mr. Peppermint, but he delivers the news that the top three finalists of last night's mangeant will be joining New York for a date on the Santa Monica Pier.

Did somebody say "the Santa Monica Pier"?!

Oh, show editors. Is there anything you cannot do? New York has a lovely time with Onix, 12-Pack and especially Whiteboy. She takes him on the ferris wheel, where she proceeds to chow down while he blathers on about keeping it real or something. "Man, you're tearing up them cucumbers, woman!" he comments at one point. But Whiteboy is a gentleman, and tidies her up sweetly.

New York is comforted by Whiteboy's encouragement of her eating (and given her mom's weird behavior about body issues and food, I can understand what a big deal that is). She enjoys her time with Whiteboy, then moves on to confront 12-Pack over his alleged girlfriend.

Their conversation goes like this: "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Do you think if I did have a girlfriend, and I came on this show, chasing after you, asking you for a kiss, she'd be my girlfriend when I came home, period? If you were to pick me, I'd absolutely be your boyfriend." Note that he never actually says "no." New York knows something is up, and if you ask me, that face right there is the face of the busted. (In more ways than one; he looks like they ordered the wrong size eyeballs for him or something.)

After "New York and her studs" come home, she tries to clear up some loose ends before the night's elimination. She gets Romance and 12-Pack together to clear up the whole girlfriend business, but things soon escalate... on Romance's end, anyway.

There's just something sad about a grown-ass man screaming at another grown-ass man to smack him. Talk about your mouth writing a check your ass can't cash.

Afterward, Romance offers his hand in detente, but wisely pulls it away before...

Oh, nice. Very classy, 12-Pack. Elsewhere, New York talks with Trendz about his demo. She actually sounds rational and thoughtful here, explaining that bringing one copy of his demo would have been fine, but bringing 30 copies? "Well, I figured I'd make 30 new friends here." Ah, optimism. The blessing -- and curse -- of the entrepreneur.

Speaking of enterprise, New York also asks Token (remember him?) why he's been so shy around her. He assures her that he's attracted to her -- well, actually, the words he uses are, "I'm attracted to every woman," which makes me think he's trying to convince himself of something he knows isn't true. She asks him for a kiss, and receives...

Token, we hardly knew ye.

New York and her mom confer briefly before heading down to the elimination ceremony. The first dude to get his chain is, not surprisingly, Whiteboy.

Yeah. I still don't get it. The rest of the dudes receive their chains, including --

What the hell is T-Weed wearing? I'd eliminate him for that hoodie alone. Finally, the only four dudes left are Trendz, Token, 12-Pack and Romance. New York says she has to go with what she believes, and she believes in ... 12-Pack?

Him? Really? She believes this guy? Even after all that dodgy business at the pier? Maybe it's just me, but given a choice between freak and lunkhead, I'll pick the freak every time. But for this and many thousands of reasons, I am not New York.

So Trendz, Token and Romance are quite rudely shown the door by New York. They seem to be taking a second or two for their ouster to sink in and she says for them to get on up outta there real quick like. Now there's the New York I've grown to know: devoid of grace, class or even basic manners.

This is how I'll always remember Romance:

At first, I laughed uproariously at "unprofessional." But then it occurred to me: being on a dating show is, in fact, her job. So the little freak is actually spot-on... although I doubt he thought about it that much.

So I was completely wrong about a Chance vs. Romance final 2. Damn. I still see Chance going far in this, but now I think he's going to face some competition from Whiteboy. Next week, Omarosa from The Apprentice and The Surreal Life visits. When she, New York and Mama NY sit together at a conference table, I can swear I smell brimstone.

Comments

[mallory]

i still love my 12-pack.

i saw him at starbucks yesterday and he is getting so much ass now...

[Catherine Cantieri]

Cool! Does he maybe look better in person than he does on the screen? Maybe a little less... Hans-unt-Franz-ish? And do you know if he did, in fact, have a girlfriend? We need some inside scoop up in here!

[Id]

If we were on a ferris wheel and I was inhaling cucumbers like they were crystal meth, would you wipe my nose and call be baby?

[Catherine Cantieri]

(In my Smoove B voice) Girl, if you were on a Ferris wheel, I would use a complicated system of satellite-based walkie-talkies to talk the carnie into stopping the ride so we could gaze at the stars together and I could tend to your fine nasolabial area. I would tenderly feed you the finest cucumbers, imported from England and Thailand, and I would use a wet-nap made of raw silk to dab the ranch dressing from your sweet lips. We would share interplanetary cocoa love.

Damn, girl.

[Cheesemeister]

There is something a little scary about 12-pack. Maybe it's that Pod Person look on his face. Maybe it's the cigarette while pumping iron. Maybe it's because you always see guys like him in pornos. Not sure. But I wouldn't believe him, myself.

[i love rep dom]

12-pack: que tipo que ta bueenooooooooooooooo!!!! quien no se quiere tira un papote asiiiii!!!

[alejandra]

AMO A CHANCE !! ES HERMOSO ESTA RIKISIMO LE DOY TODA LA NOCHE...ME INTERNO EN UN HOTEL PARA ESTAR CON EL

[MrsEazyE]

i love Pootie and Trendz