This post is all over the map, so strap yourselves in, bitches!
Yes, it's true.
He really is GOAWCHUSS.
Although we have to say, it's a little disconcerting to be introduced to someone and have the very first words out of their mouth be "You're the guys who were talking about my ass!" What do you say in response to that? Well, we have no class, so we responded with "How could we NOT? It's PERFECT!" It wasn't until a day later that we realized (with some relief) that he didn't say "You're the guys who were making fun of my accent!"
Rene is a real charmer and he insists that his ass is nothing to write home about. He attributes it all to the pants he wore. We tried to get photographic proof, but again, how do you stop someone in mid-conversation to ask them for a picture of their ass? "Yes, Rene. This is all very interesting, but would you mind terribly if we asked you to turn around and bend over?"
But enough fawning. Let's rip these bitches!
Oh, Tyson. You're so "street."
If there's one thing every guy with a septum ring wants, it's Liza Minnelli's hair. Look at him. You know he wants to cry.
And kudos to the totally heterosexual Dr. Boogie, who managed to take his client from "dude who works in the used record store" to "gay porn star." It takes real talent to make a garage band bass player look like the star of Puerto Rican Butts II.
Bitches in the kitchen, y'all! DELICIOUS. Check out that table. DRUNK bitches in the kitchen. The producers must've been peeing themselves with delight.
Have we mentioned our love for Tabs? Sure, she underestimated Figjam the weasel boy, but there's something about her raw competitiveness and naked disdain for reality show bullshit that makes for FANTASTIC television.
She likes to pretend that she's above it all, but when crunch time comes, she's rolling around in the mud and loving every second of it.
Somehow, we need to figure out a way to work this sentence into our conversations more. Turn it into a generic insult. "Oh Mary, you're really struggling with your up-do today, aren't you?"
As for Figjam...
Look, all reality show contestants play to the cameras to varying degrees. It would be boring if they didn't. On the other hand, there's a cutoff point. If you go to far, you wind up looking ridiculous.
You're not going into battle to fight the Persians, weasel boy. Tone it down a little. Besides, all this bowing and meditating might have been impressive if there wasn't an entire crew in there shooting the whole thing.
God, our lower backs ache just looking at those cheap-ass beds.
And speaking of cheap-ass...
Sweet Jesus, where did they get those ugly costumes from?
With each passing week, this show becomes less about the stylists and more about torturing the poor wig stands. Oh honeys, we hope you put bandaids on your nipples and a couple of pairs of industrial strength granny panties on your bits, because those dresses look like breeding grounds for skin diseases. We're pretty sure every wigstand goes home at night and sits in her shower, crying, as the scalding hot water does its best to wash away the bad memories.
And on that note...
PREVIEW TIME, POODLES!
The remaining competitors are introduced to yet another legendary stylist who needs subtitling just to understand him and Ben snaps under the strain. Here.
By the way, we never talk about Ben but we kind of love him a little. Not in a sexual way; more in a thank-you-for-entertaining-us way. We love hearing him talk about hairstyling like it's some sort of extreme sport. "Dude, I totally went Tarzan on her hair." We don't know what the hell that means, but we like it. And if you like Ben, then you REALLY need to click play (language warning for those of you with prissy bosses):
Who wants a motherfuckin' haircut? We do, Digital Korruption!!