CoTher 2.4-5: Gutterballs

She rolls on shomer Shabbos.

Yeah, yeah, I'm way behind. Leave me alone. I was busy keeping the X in Xmas. Happy new year, bee tee dubs!

Anyhoo, let's kick 2013 off right and get caught up on some "Couples Therapy" action! I'm going to count down the best parts of eps 4 and 5. You can thank me later:

1. Doug can't do partner yoga, cries and locks himself in the bathroom
In an effort to help the couples feel "connected," the therapists organize a morning partner yoga session for the gang. But one partner is conspicuously missing because of those pesky California child labor laws.

Doug half-heartedly attempts to do the yoga himself while everyone else is sitting back-to-back with their sweeties to "feel their warmth and their spine." Dammit! Doug is not feeling any warmth or spines so he untwists himself from Warrior 1 and stomps, pouting, into the house. "I can't be with her at night and I've reached my threshold," he cries. I'm guessing he then screams, "NOBODY UNDERSTANDS OUR LOVE!" and flails down the hall wailing and dramatically slams the bathroom door shut so he can privately sulk about his inability to participate in yoga.

Hater Shayne seems to think the problem isn't that Courtney can't be on camera for more than six hours a day: "You can't wear stripper shoes to yoga, so maybe she opted out." Maybe, Shayne, maybe. But Court is has special powers that enable her to incorporate transparent eight-inch platforms into every activity. Exhibit A:

2. Courtney Stodden doesn't have to wear ugly, stinking bowling shoes like everyone else.

In another attempt to encourage "bonding," the CoTher pairs are sent to the bowling alley. Court dresses for the occasion in the aforementioned plexiglass heels and the copper crotch cutters/lycra halter combo from the first episode. Bowling may by Courtney's worst nightmare, but it's a fantastic opportunity to make a gazillion titillating wisecracks about balls. 

"I don't know how to put my fingers in the ball!" Court squeals. "I'm a bowling virgin!"

Courtney "knocks [my] pins down every time," Doug announces.

"She knows how to work balls," Tiny side-eyes.

Despite her alleged lack of bowling prowess, Court rolls a strike on the first try (at least as editing would lead us to believe). It's the magic of the heels! But how she got away with wearing them instead of the rentable clown shoes everyone else is forced to wear remains a mystery.

3. Courtney still talks to her ex and can't reach things
When Dr. Jenn asks the couples to talk about trust in group, Court drops a bomb. Turns out she's still talking to her 21-year-old ex-boyfriend! WHATTTT???? I'm shocked. SHOCKED. Doug says he's going to bed sometimes and Courtney's phone is blowing up at all hours of the night. Once, he decided to put his foot down on these shenanigans, so he grabbed her phone and told Mr. 21-Year-Old to stop calling his wife, goddammit! Dr. Jenn encourages Courtney to stop trying to stir shit up to get him to tell her he cares. Fat chance, doc!

Despite his attempt at taking a share of the power in the relationship, the scales tipped back in Court's favor when she tries to get something from a not-really-all-that-high shelf. She grunts provocatively and whines that she can't reach so Doug gives her a helping hand:

Eight-inch heels did not help in this situation.

Scales, tipped.

4. This conversation:
Courtney (in the kitchen): Oh my god, there are fries in here! (picks up a wooden spoon) Can I smack your butt with this? (smacks Doug with spoon while he makes sexual sounds)
Doug: Did you get grease on my pants?

Courtney: No. You prima donna.

5. Dourtney

To honor his beloved, Doug scrawls a mural on his bedroom wall:

Is anyone else suddenly reminded of the rebus in Highlights magazine?

Also, they call each other "Dourtney." As in Doug and Courtney combined into one power name, a la Brangelina. It works, I think.

6. Courtney has saved many lives by just being herself

Dr. Jenn meets privately with the Power Couple and announces that she's implementing a dress code in Casa CoTher. Everyone has been complaining to here about Courtney's My Little Ho-ny "outfits" and it's distracting from therapy. Here's her reaction:

Mission accomplished, bitches!

She may have won this round, but the War of Unfairness rages on. So Court suddenly morphs into Elizabeth Cady Stanton and decides to take a stand for those who can't stand up for themselves: The Scantily Clad. She thinks it's wrong to change for others and that she has to speak out for what she believes in because she's a voice for those who want the right to wear postage stamp-sized minis and latex boob trays.

"I've saved many lives!" she implores.

Unfortunately, Dr. Jenn doesn't explore that claim further and instead drops the hammer: from this moment on, there will be no bare midriffs, no boobs hanging out and crotches are to be properly covered at all times...OR ELSE.

"I'm a free spirit!" Courtney complains. "I need to be free to express myself and be creative!" You tell 'em, girlfriend! It's time to really show them what you're made of (besides cotton candy, tanning bed residue and Hidden Fantasy™ by Britney Spears).

Next time: Elizabeth Cady Stanton protests by exposing her midriff and Dr. Jenn is not amused.

Photo stills courtesy of VH1

CoTher 2.3: My fair Courtney

"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the pl....
OMG, A POT-SMOKING SKUNK!"

Dr. Jenn says the first 48 hours of therapy are brutal. It's sort of like that show "The First 48." If you don't catch a killer within the first two days after a crime occurs, your chances of avenging the victim's death are cut in half. So, I guess that means if you don't fix relationships in that amount of time, well...hell's bells.

Two people we don't have to worry about are our favorite gruesome twosome, Doug Hutchinson and Courtney Stodden. Or do we? Today, Court is sporting an Afghan Hound blowout and her leather hotpants from the last episode. Doug tells her she looks beautiful and then promptly throws his back out. It's the perfect illustration of this episode's running theme: Courtney's skankwear and the aging Svengali with a slipped disc who loves it.

Group therapy starts out with a blergh when Dr. Jenn looks right at our happy couple and makes a comment about "using your wife as a sexual object to promote her career." Doug takes offense, but Judge Jenn asks him if it's not true that his family and friends have abandoned him, his work options have dried up and he is now in the business of Courtney. Is that NOT TRUE, Doug Hutchinson??

Court pouts and says nobody understands that she's actually a really sweet person with very strong Christian beliefs and that god made her just the way she is and he also made copper spandex disco crotch-cutters and matching boob slings so what's the big deal? 

Dr. Jenn suddenly morphs into Professor Henry Higgins and asks Court if she'd be willing to wear sweats, no makeup and regular flat shoes. "I want to be like that!" Courtney insists. "But I'm stubborn and I need help!" Now Courtney, Dr. Jenn promises that by the end of "Couples Therapy," you'll ride in a carriage to Buckingham Palace and if the royals think you a lady, you'll get a job in a shop! But if they think you a trampasaurus in sheep's clothing, you shall be banished to the lunchtime side stage at The Eager Beaver. It's going to be hard, because Court eats the attention up with a spoon and "sometimes [I] forget [I'm] married!" The comment shocks everyone, including Doug, and the facial expressions of surprise, disgust and confusion are priceless. 

Courtney is using her age as an excuse, but Tiny reminds her that she "made a grown-woman decision to get married." Tiny, we don't tolerate that kind of rationality and real-keeping in Courtneywood! But Dr. Jenn implores Court to listen to others' input whether she likes what they have to say or not.

Later, Nik and Doug have a sit-down, Tony Soprano-style, to work out their differences. But unlike Tony, the counselor/moderator allows both of them to keep their kneecaps and livelihoods. All seems to be going smoothly until Doug tries to tell Court what happened. Here's their conversation:

Courtney: Tell me what you talked about; tell me everything! 
Doug: That cat is a trip. 
Courtney: Meow! You are so cute! 
Doug: I think it was under the auspices of...
Courtney: So sorry to interrupt you, but it smells like a skunk out here. Anyways, I'm sorry; so what happened?
Doug: I think we accomplished what we're going to accomplish with this and I don't think he's going to hurl insults at you any more...
Courtney: I smell pot! The skunk is smoking pot!
Doug: You are so distracted. Anyway, he said his intention is to understand us more, which I don't think is the complete truth...
Courtney: (gasps) It's that skunk again! It's smoking pot!
Doug: I'm trying to share with you and you're not in the mood. You want to play.
Courtney: I'm just warning you that it's getting closer.

"She communicates in a 21st-century way," Doug rations. "She's a teenager." Why can't a woman be more like a man, Doug? WHY??? He tries to explain to Courtney that when he wants to tell her stuff, she gets distracted by bugs and puppies and unexpected breezes and IT HURTS HIS FEELINGS. Yeah, yeah, Doug, Court gets it, but how is she supposed to concentrate on your feelings when there are ravenous coyotes howling in the background? "Shoot a gun in the air!" Courtney screams. "I appreciate nature, but that's a part of nature I don't want to hear!"

While Courtney is busy shooting pool in a bikini (later she's going to wash Doug's car in slow motion), Doug joins Tiny on the patio and she expresses her concern about Courtney's appearance. "I'm more concerned about how she feels about herself to dress so inappropriately," she says."Those clothes are like, 'Hello, hoochie!'" God created those clothes, Tiny, GOD. Who are you to question the man upstairs?

Despite her blasphemy, Tiny's comments make Doug think. And he thinks the thoughts he had about Courtney's outfits are making him think more negatively than he previously thought. Uh oh, troubs in paradise! If these two could just work it out, wouldn't be lovely?

Next week: The boys of Courtney's past! 

Couples Therapy 2.1: Why can't you just let Courtney be great?

OK, as promised, I'm back to my roots of blogging a trashy VH1 reality show. But this time it's a little bit different. "Couples Therapy" is no "Rock of Love," for one thing (and what is, I ask you? What is?). And for another thing, I don't give two shits about anyone on this show except two people: Doug Hutchinson and Courtney Stodden.

I think I might have this framed.

That's Courtney (age 17, media ho) describing the love she feels for Doug (age 51, ac-toor). They are the Bogey and Bacall for the 20teens. The Hepburn and Tracey of the millennium. The Whitney and Bobby of the apocalypse (the world is still ending on December 21, right?).

We get a little glimpse into the dark pink underworld of this pair's marriage in the first few minutes of the show. "Upbeat rock music" (according to the closed captioning) plays as the stage is set. Doug laments that his wife gets so much attention that it's exhausting. They're shown taking a leisurely stroll around an outdoor shopping area with Doug sporting Ed-Hardy-midlife-crisis wear and a burglar's cap and Courtney decked out in a sidewalk-length evening gown with rhinestone belt and a slit up to her armpit. Courtney just throws her head back and laughs and laughs like a deranged jackal. "People disagree with our union because we have a con-to-ver-sal [sic] age gap!" she announces. Doug insists that he tries to get Courtney to cover up more than 2% of her body at any given time. They're then shown moving into the CoTher house and she's clad in see-through hooker heels that are as tall as Doug and some kind of gold and black lycra...outfit? I'm not sure. It might just be two wrist bands:

Jesus, Doug, what's with the outfit? Have some respect for yourself!

It's at this point in the show when we get to see just what makes Courtney Stodden truly magical: her music. Yes, she's a singer! And her first single, "Don't Put it on Me," is a scathing attack on the jelly-jells who hate her because she's beautiful (please, please, I am begging you to take the time to watch this):

She's on a boat with a pink dog, slurping down an 80-oz. Marga-blaster (virgin, of course) while you're just sitting in a broken lawn chair with a regular brown dog drinking from a beer hat. You suck and she rocks. Get used to it.

And if you thought that was the best thing you've seen all day, get a load of this (please, please I am begging you to take the time to watch this one, too, but BRACE YOURSELF. Also, probably NSFL—Not Safe for Life):

Take a moment to let that all sink in.

The accompanying screen text bitchily points out that on YouTube, this video has 429 likes and 687, 989 dislikes. People just don't get the art of a human being coughing up a hairball and using a litterbox. But people also didn't get Warhol.

Courtney needs this.

Speaking of litterboxes, Doug asks Courtney if she has to "go potty" and she says she has to "pee pee" and that she can carry her suitcase by herself because she's "like a strong Barbie doll." They're just a regular old married couple now, but they still wax nostalgic about how their love blossomed. Courtney was taking Doug's online acting workshop. Oh my god, can you imagine? Courtney wearing sexy librarian glasses, intently studying the "craft" on her pink laptop. Doug discussing method acting and how he insisted on playing a shapeshifter on "The X-Files" in the nude to really get into character (this is apparently real, and it totally creeped David Duchovny out). As they're innocently playing teacher and student, Cupid's arrow strikes. Picture all this through a Vaseline-smeared webcam lens. Sigh...dreamy!

When Doug went to visit Courtney for the first time, he proposed almost immediately. The rest is history...with her parents' consent, of course. (Interestingly, though, Courtney's dad doesn't give consent to appear on the show, as he's fuzzed out in the happy family portrait they show to illustrate this. And Doug's family has also disowned him.) 

Everywhere they turn, people just shit all over their love, and they have not found any kind of safe haven at Casa CoTher. Counselor Rachel Clark greets the pair and gives them a house tour. In the kitchen, she asks if they like to cook. "I'll lay on the counter and you can cook on my stomach!" Courtney squeals. Rachel says she's trying not to judge, but her face says it all: 

Don't put it on me, girl, don't!

Rach just doesn't get it.

OK, now I guess we have to move on to the other couples (or should I say, supporting characters) in the house. We have Shayne Lamas, daughter of Lorenzo Lamas (and granddaughter of femininity expert Arlene Dahl!!!), and Nik Richie from TheDirty.com (which, because I'm a terrible person, I kind of enjoy); Simon and Alex McCord from "The Real Housewives of New York City;" and singer JoJo and his totally adorable wife Tiny. 

All of these pairs are fighting, complaining and fretting over their futures. In the midst of all this turmoil, where are Doug and Courtney? Oh, here they are! They're still in the kitchen and Doug is throwing grapes for Courtney to catch in her cleavage! Here's their conversation:

Courtney: We're making a big mess in the mansion! (Picks up grape.) Here, eat this off the floor and show me you're a man.
Doug: No, honey, it's got hair on it.
Courtney: I'll eat it. (Eats hairy grape.)

Clearly, they are there as a model to others. How can people whose lives are falling apart not be inspired by these two? It's time for them to show the other couples in the house what a healthy, loving relationship looks like. But as they go out to greet everyone, the judgement begins. Shayne groans and asks Courtney, "What are you wearing, girlfriend?" Duh, Shayne! "I'm wearing my daily wear!" Court responds. "What are YOU wearing?" Courtney then informs everyone that she's not wearing underwear and Doug drools, "That's why I'm the luckiest man in the world!" 

Everyone appears horrified and Nik says Courtney is a starfucker who submits herself to TheDirty.com all the time. Shayne is clearly uncomfortable and Doug starts asking her if she's high, because "she sounds high." Then Nik calls Courtney the "trash all over the internet" and the fur starts flying. Doug and Nik get up in each other's faces, as the kids these days say, the word "motherfucker" is thrown around and soon, Doug and Courtney are run off by the mob of townspeople with their pitchforks, sort of like Frankenstein's monster if Frankenstein's monster wore a pewter halter and lucite stripper heels. Doug says they're like Bonnie and Clyde—it's them against the world. "Will you blow me?" Courtney says. "I mean blow ON me. I'm really hot."

At the first group therapy session, psycologist Dr. Jen Berman notes the animosity among the group (to paraphrase Tony Soprano, she must have finished at the top of her fucking class). There's talk about "being real" and "forming bonds" and Dr. Jen says she has a low tolerance for BS.

Doug, however, keeps spouting off how he thinks everyone sees him. "How can a child molester walk around and not be arrested?" he mocks, and demands an apology for the trash comment. "Under California rules, we're married, under god." Everyone groans and rolls their eyes. "We're falling into their trap and talking about them," Nik says. Amen, buddy. You think your marriage is bad? Your problems are just beginning: you have to compete with the great stars of the new golden age: Doug Hutchinson and Courtney Stodden! Why can't you just let them be great?

This season on "Couples Therapy:" Courtney gallivants; "I didn't believe in me;" Courtney wears a bikini to dinner; "there's a wedding tomorrow!"; Courtney in hot pants; "stop acting like a baby;" Courtney prances; "I love you so much!"; Courtney, Courtney, Courtney.

Oh, also: Doug has "Courtney" shaved into his hair:

Romantical!

Let's see if we can say the word "Courtney" more next time. Until then, bitches!

All screenshots from VH1. T-shirt pic from Noisebot.

Dave Navarro is officially dead to me

Kill me now.

I don't know why I've persisted in thinking that Dave Navarro has standards. He clearly doesn't, and hasn't for quite some time now. Consider the picture at left, for example. Also consider some of his other media-whore-ish offenses over the last few years:


• Hosted Rock Star: INXS, a reality show that sought to replace the late, great Michael Hutchence, one of the few natural born rock stars that ever lived
• Starred in another reality show with Carmen Electra
• Married Carmen Electra
• Got Carmen Electra's initials tattooed over his heart
• Announced his split from Carmen Electra
• Directed a porno
• Started a band with Billy Corgan, one of my least favorite people on the planet
• Posed nude for a PETA ad
• Contributed guitar tracks for Christina Aguilara and P. Diddy albums
• Hangs out with (and possibly dated) Daisy "Alexis Arquette" de la Hoya from Rock of Love


Pretty embarrassing all around. But none of those even compare to what Dave has done this time. Let me pull up a bucket really quickly before I type this because the vom is already rising. Now, brace yourself:


DAVE NAVARRO HAS BEEN HANGING OUT WITH, AND IS POSSIBLY SLEEPING WITH, TILA TEQUILA.


Let's just take a moment to let that sink in.


I will not post them here because I care too much about your health, but there are pictures floating around the interwebs of the two of them "canoodling" and of Tila leaving Dave's house in the wee hours of the night. Granted, they may have been shooting up together. And I could actually almost accept that.


It pains me to even mention a parasitic pubic louse like Tila Tequila on this blog. Why is she still around? She's stupid, skanky and crazy. Seriously. It was recently revealed, by Dr. Drew Pinsky's wife no less, that she failed the psych exam to be on the latest incarnation of Celebrity Rehab. Even Leif Garrett passed, if that tells you anything. Tila Tequila makes Carmen Electra look like Kate Middleton as far as class is concerned. 


The only explanation is drugs. Drugs are bad, kids. Take heed. 


P.S. It's actually a bad week for Jane's Addiction all around. Check this bullshit out:



I can't. I just can't.

Doorbust a move!

Hi, everybody! (Hi, Dr. Nick!) Time to down a fifth and get your teeth knocked out for the last pack of Silly Bandz. It's Doorbusters Day! 

As per tradition, here are a few classic Black Friday horror stories to remind you just what this holiday season is all about: oneupsmanship. Brought to you by our old holiday pal Krampus.

It was far from the first Black Friday tragedy to hit Wal-Mart. Back in 2005, customers shopping at a Wal-Mart in Orlando, Fla., were involved in a scuffle with security and with each other. According to one shopper’s testimony, "It was absolutely pandemonium in there. They were throwing laptops 20 feet in the air, and people were collapsing on each other to grab them. It was ridiculous.” One man reportedly got in a fight with several security guards, while other customers experienced blows to the head.

In 2006, one Circuit City in Naples, Fla., required police backup to help settle down a crowd after 32 vouchers for a laptop deal had been handed out 15 minutes before the doors opened. Meanwhile, at another Circuit City in the same town, a bad fight broke out between two women in the store. According to Naplesnews.com, shoppers reportedly “witnessed one woman grabbing another woman by the neck over a discounted computer.” Perhaps the world is a little safer now that the chain is out of business (though we do miss their good deals on electronics).

One woman collapsed early in the morning on Black Friday last year while waiting in line for the doors to open at Target. Rather than rush to help her, waiting customers stood firm in their spots, unwilling to lose their place in line. A few decent Samaritans threw candy bars in her general direction, thinking she might just have low blood sugar.

In 2006, Sony decided to take advantage of holiday traffic and released the PlayStation 3 in the week leading up to Black Friday. A video game release is typically a manic event, but when you pair it with the holiday, the result is absolute chaos.

Hundreds of over-eager customers gathered outside a Circuit City in Virginia waiting for the doors to open. Police officers tried to tame the crowd before the doors opened. According to a local radio station, “Twice officers verbally warned the crowd, then an officer shot a pepper ball at the ground.” When that didn’t pacify the crowd, police fired another round. Eventually, the customers dispersed all together.

Back in 2007, I had just had my daughter in October by C-section and I went with my mom to Black Friday. We were trying to get a TV and a man yelled, ‘I'm getting all these.’ When I said we are getting one, he pushed me down and hit my mom with one of the boxes. I was so mad—I thought, "All this just to get something for less."

It was 2006, I had been standing in line in the rain since 10 p.m. on Thanksgiving evening at a Walmart in North Central California. Walmart had advertised a phenomenal deal on laptops and I was so happy because I was within the first 30 people at the front door. Doors opened at 5 am. By 4:30 am there was close to 1,000 people in line. What happened next was the greatest display of raw human greed in all its ugliness that I had ever seen on a Black Friday. Now I find the term Black Friday is actually a very, very accurate description because for me, it was a truly dark experience. There was a literal stampede at the front door. Walmart had made the mistake of not providing enough security. They also let everyone in at the same time. As I jogged to the electronics part of the store people behind me were pushing and shoving me, trying their best to get in front of me. I was still fully anticipating a great deal on that marvelous laptop. As I approached the electronics department of the store what I saw was sickening... There was a dog pile of people nearly 6 feet high on top of the remaining laptops. Yes, it looked like a pro football game. People were having a free-for-all, throwing punches and kicking each other violently. One young man had ripped a huge chunk of hair out of an elderly woman's head, roots of the hair dripping with blood. People were enraged, yelling and screaming at each other. Store employees panicked and fled. It was complete total chaos. I could literally hear the loud thumps and screams as fists and feet landed explosively on faces, bodies, etc. Several people had blood on them, there was blood on the floor and I know many people would have bruises later in the day.

In California, I camped out at a best buy about 24 hrs in advance. I was in the top 20 of the line. Early morning someone told me to watch their spot. I agreed because I didn't think anything of it and then they return only a few hrs before the store opened. I was pissed. But before the store opened the manager came out and gave vouchers to the first 5 people. Then he gave the rest of the vouchers to an employee. The employee got on one of those lifting cranes kind of like the firemen use. And everyone crowded around him and he started throwing vouchers into the crowd. It was a massacre.

Work at Home Depot. One year we did TVs, huge Plasma ones for cheap. A woman, desperate to get her TV threw her body over the last two tvs to claim them and we heard the sound of breaking plastic.

Last year I literally witnessed someone trampled to death at Walmart. That's it for me and Black Friday. No deal is worth another person's life.

But, but...50" plasma screens for $495! C'mon, we can sacrifice some of the plebes for a deal like that! Happy holiday season, lovelies! 

Chicken or egg?

Great minds think alike. And if you believe that, then I should be the head of creative at VH1.

The greatest reality show producers on the planet and I both have inflicted Rock of Love girls where are they now recaps on an unsuspecting and uncaring world.

If you're so inclined, you can watch the whole damn VH1 special online. Warning: it contains copious amounts of Rikki Rachtman.

The rundown is pretty close to mine: drunk, stripping, babies, stripping, drunk, stripping, finding the inner self, stripping, Hustler, stripping blah blah. Lacey's singing is fucking horrible (although I totally commend her dog rescue endeavors), Mindy's living in Cinci and working on some kind of food fetish calendar, Rodeo is a darn sweetheart and Brandi C. is engaged to a Billie Joe Armstrong lookalike. As an added bonus, some of the bitches bash on Bret and trash him for being a big, fake ho. The saddest (and awesomest) quote comes from Squishy Barbie Doll Head: "He's a skank just like me."

Embarrassing confession: I totes want to hang out with ASHeather.

Twit fight! Twit fight!

I'm totally embarrassed that I even know about this, but deliciously evil gossip blogger Perez Hilton and professional whore Tila Tequila got in a Twitter fight today and I found it totally hilarious for some reason. See, Perez (probably correctly) assumes that Tila is using the recent death of Johnson & Johnson heiress Casey Johnson to further her whoredom. Tila, of course, is completely offended that anyone would insinuate such a thing. But she's a whore. So you decide.

Anyway, it really evolves into a fun little third-grade slappy fight complete with project promotion and masturbation denial. Lick it up:

Perez: I'm amazed you're not broadcasting live, showing us you're "grieving"! That's totally something trash like you would do!

Tila: have some decency! You love poking fun at people who have passed away dont you? First Mocking MJ's Death & now My FIance's?

Perez: Tweet away, honey. The more you Tweet, the more your true colors reveal themselves. And they are vile! You should try and get custody of her daughter. That'd be GREAT publicity, all you crave in life!

Tila: Actually Casey & I were going to do that next. That was my Wife's wish was for me to adopt ava. Ur jus jealous nobody loves u.

Perez: OF COURSE that's what she wanted! Suuuure! Why would anyone believe YOU???? You are a PATHOLOGICAL LIAR!

Tila: Lonely @perezhilton Cant find anyone else to pick on so now he thinks he can pick on me cuz I'm in a vulnerable state with my wife passing

Perez: And I DO have decency. That's why I will NEVER mention you on my site again. I care too much about my readers!

Tila: Truly a sad individual @perezhilton first u Mock the death of Michael Jackson and now this? U seriously need God. Wait. God Rejected you.

Perez: Go back to grieving and exploiting her death. You're great at being soulless!

Tila: oh after watching your bitch crying snot throwing video about how my friend @Iamrealwill punched U..it was 2 embarassing!

Perez: SEE! You do my job for me! Using her death to publicize yourself and your projects. Applause! Thanks for proving me right!!!!

Tila: Everyone just forget about @perezhilton he's lonely and bored so decided to pick on me at a time when I an mourning my Fiance. Good Job Pig! oh please. Stop lying to people pussy prezz! U say u stopped posting about me years ago. Then u delete it then u post again. U act as though I want my name on your website? Oh honey please get a grip. Nobody gives 2 shits. Especially me about ur site.

Perez: Keep on at it, girl! Go! Go! Go! You're digging your own hole!

Tila: Keep talking all that non-sense piggy prez @perezhilton but just admit the truth & that is you're now threatened by my new Gossip Blog.

Perez: Yup, that's the truth! You're a fucking genius! Ha ha ha ha

Tila: what does my deceased fiance have to do with you and your lonely life? Im lonely cuz my fiance passed away. What's ur excuse?

Perez: Bitch, please. I see right through you. You are paper thin! P.S. You're a shitty actress! You gotta learn to fake it better!

Tila: oh wait. U have no life. No one to love you. Never got engaged, wished u were a woman but in ur words #epicfail move along now.

Perez: I have the love of my mom and my sister. True love! Something you obviously know nothing about.

Tila: see? @perezhilton tries 2 start shit w/anybody when he's lonely. He lies 2 his readers pretending to hate celebs but in real life kisses ass

Perez: If my mom died, I wouldn't be granting repeated interviews about it! I wouldn't be Tweeting repeatedly about my grieving!

Tila: But we all know that about him by now, so his website is no longer credible. It was cool like 6 years ago but now its all washed up w/lies.

Perez: This is not about Casey Johnson. This is about YOU and how disgusting you are! And how ur using her death for ur gain! Gross!! And if somebody I cared about died, I wouldn't be fighting with anyone on Twitter!!!!!!!!! You are your own worst enemy. That's why YOU'RE new website is gonna be awesome! Woo hoo! Publicize that new website girl! Kill Casey again! That new blog is gonna be awesome! Too bad Casey didn't die after you launched it, right? That timing would have been great!

Tila: On my new Gossip Blog, u get EXCLUSIVE MATERIAL & I won't lie to my readers like @perezhilton does. Never. My Gossip site will shit on his!

Perez: If Casey Johnson could come back from the dead, she'd come and fucking kill you for how you've been behaving! #YouAreWack

Tila: keep my Fiance's name out of your foul mouth U piece of trash! Have some respect! Casey hated your fatass! So shut the fuck up

Perez: You are so blind! This is not about me. This is about YOU! This is about how vile you are and your actions recently. You lose!

Tila: its about me? I thought you said you didn't care about me or mention me? Why are u all up in my business then? Hmm stalker much

Perez: Guess you're done "mourning" your wife! Now go back to showing your titties and pulling tampons out of your coochie!

Tila: Another lie from @perezhilton claiming he doesn't care about me cuz I'm a "nobody" yet he is constantly stalking my life & everything I do!

Perez: Look up the word "constantly" in the dictionary, you imbecile. You clearly don't understand it's meaning. You may always wanna look up the word imbecile, as you probably don't know what that one means either. Violence is never the answer, but I hope one day @Rihanna gives you what you have coming!

Tila: hey u better be careful who u talkin to. You're SO LAST YEAR! Just be careful cuz I got all of my paparazzi's on LOCK!

Perez: Bitch, I'm not scared of you. You are a JOKE! And the paparazzi can suck your cock! You're like the boy who cried wolf! Remember how you told everyone you were pregnant and then said you were joking?

Tila: First of all I never pulled no damn tampon out nor masturbated..those were YOUR LYING WORDS once again. Get a life! and yes I do remember saying I was pregnant. I dont recall how I lied about that? Just cuz I wouldn't tell ur fatass wut hppnd?

Perez: You are a PATHOLOGICAL liar! You will do ANYTHING for publicity! You have no soul! Go back to your fake grieving now!

Tila: You must REALLY be obsessed with me 2 go on and on and on about me this early morning. For someone who doesnt care, u really do

Perez: I'm done with you. Buh bye! xoxo

Tila: So sad @perezhilton is angry that my new Gossip Blog is going to put him out of business so he decides to throw a hissy fit this morning LOL

You know, I was totally against Twitter at first. I mean, who cares that Joe Blow is making dinner or taking a shit? But I didn't even consider the crazy celeb fights that would erupt! Maybe I should keep an eye on Blohan's account...

It's that time of year again!

Please take some time to offer a moment of silence for Jdimytai "Jimmy" Damour. One year ago today, Jimmy was trampled to death in a Wal-Mart by a bloodthirsty crowd of Doorbusters who assigned more value to flat screen TV than to a poor hapless employee's life. To make the story more depressing, Jimmy was a temp worker who was probably making $7.25 an hour. Most likely less since it's Wal-Mart.

This year, Wal-Mart has instated a brilliant plan to cut down on Black Friday stampedes (and annoying lawsuits from the families of dead employees). This morning, customers were allowed to herd in early and line up beside the product they want to cage fight over. Ingenious! Let them all biting each others' noses off for Rock Band in little groups around the store instead of in one big murderous mob. It's probably easier to pull the bodies out that way.

I may make it a yearly S&C tradition to relay some Black Friday horror stories, because you know this Wal-Mart plan is going to produce some. Here are a few I found online.

Some early bird shoppers were using shopping carts to block aisles in the store, and some even abandoned their carts some 10 feet inside the store entrance, so that other shoppers wouldn’t get ahead of them in the mad rush for merch.

In 1997, the most dangerous toy of all was created: Tickle Me Elmo. For some reason, everyone needed to have a red monster who giggled and vibrated, and they would go to all means necessary. Hustlers rushed to stores on Black Friday, to later sell Elmo online for up to $1500. An employee at Hot Topic was injured when, as he was holding the last remaining Elmo, a group of shoppers literally attacked him. He suffered a broken rib and a concussion.

I crossed the street from my house, and went to cross the parking lot intersection immediately thereafter. Not being a complete idiot (I hope) I looked both ways, saw traffic slowing for the stop sign, so I foolishly ventured across the road. And was promptly, and rather painfully, hit by a late '90s Dodge Ram. So while I sat on the curb waiting for the police to arrive, I remembered why exactly it was that I lock myself in the house on the day after Thanksgiving, but also that other people should do the same. The woman that hit me (other than apologizing profusely) said she was "too busy looking at ads" to notice me.

I saw a guy holding a sign that said "will suck dick for God of War."

If you're shopping today, please be nice to the employees. I realize it's hard when you're surrounded by sick, screaming children, greedy assholes and other failures of humanity, but it might be the one ounce of human decency and kindness they've experienced all day.

P.S. That stupid Jane Seymour "double heart" necklace looks like boobs and a butt. Dr. Quinn should stick to medicine because she sure ain't a jewelry design woman. Har har.

The poop nazi

Just when you thought GOOP/STOOP was the stupidest blog on the internets, along comes something that makes Gwynnie look like a paragon of logic and reason. Yes, there is officially an even dumber "lifestyle newsletter" that will force little miss Paltrow work that much harder win the Stupid & Contagious Most Crushing Online Idiocy™ award.

Who is the person responsible for this monumental feat? Why it's Jenny McCarthy, former Playboy Playmate and MTV shill- turned-antivaccine kooktard! Oprah, who has already shoved Dr. Phil and Ekhart Tolle down our throats, has decided it would be a great idea to give Jenny a blog and a talk show of her own, thereby giving her more mediums to peddle her "save measles, polio and rubella from extinction" propaganda.

Before I make fun of her blog, it should be noted that Jenny, who became famous by picking her nose and eating her own vomit on television, and her boyfriend Jim Carrey are currently the spokesbimbos of a movement of SUV-driving soccer parents that believe childhood vaccines cause autism. Before Jenny's son Evan was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, she believed he was a psychic crystal child who was part of an emerging group of "human angels."

Seriously.

After he was diagnosed, she dropped the crystal child schtick and started putting him through all sorts of crazy diets and alternative therapies, including chelation metal detox, which is extremely dangerous, toxic and potentially fatal.

SERIOUSLY.

She also recently said this to TIME magazine:

I do believe sadly it's going to take some diseases coming back to realize that we need to change and develop vaccines that are safe. If the vaccine companies are not listening to us, it's their fucking fault that the diseases are coming back. They're making a product that's shit. If you give us a safe vaccine, we'll use it. ... If you ask a parent of an autistic child if they want the measles or the autism, we will stand in line for the fucking measles.

In other words, she believes this is acceptable. So, you know, she's exactly the kind of person you'd want to be taking health and diet advice from! Thanks, Oprah!

The Jenny show thankfully hasn't started yet, but she's full speed ahead on her ridiculous blog already. If she wasn't so fucking annoying and adamant about spreading dangerous pseudoscience, I'd almost feel sorry for her, as the poor thing's brain seems to have stopped growing around age five. She writes like she's been on a five-day Adderall bender. Behold a few words of wisdom from the brain trust that is Jenny McCarthy (all sic):

I also found some corn flakes that were fruit-juice sweetened. It's amazing how much you could find when you actually look.

You know those charity chocolate bars that school girls sell for $1? Well, I bought $500 of them! I wonder if I'm gonna detox.

Part of letting go of something sweet makes me feel like I have nothing sweet in my life. Yes, I can look at my beautiful child and awesome husband (yes, I call him that) and know that I have sweetness living with me, but I can't necessarily have them as dessert. Aren't there any chocolate puddings that are sweetened with fruit juice? Can't Willy Wonka himself ring my doorbell right now and say, "Here is the super-dooper-choco-delicious-non-dairy-sugar-free-fruit-juice-sweetened-candy bar" and save me from my PMS/no-sugar blues? Hmmm.

I told Jim the government doesn't need to have spies to find where you are. They can just Twitter you. LOL!

At least I got smart and taught myself to stay away from what I call "the devil" (what most people refer to as high-fructose corn syrup). I would like to get Evan completely off sugar too. God, I hope he doesn't hate me someday! LOL. After all, I've written six books about him so far. You know, as soon as he turns 16, I am sure he is going to write one called, "Mom, Leave Me Alone!" LOL!

Is LOL totally out and hahaha in? I just dunno.

If that didn't make you LOL or POTK (puke on the keyboard), then wait until you hear about this crazy diet she's on! Because Jenny is into all manner of spiritual/holistic gobbledegook, she's urging the readers of her page to join her in a special "Give It Up By Summer" purge. What's she giving up?
• wheat
• dairy
• refined sugar
• caffeine
• alcohol
• smoking
• yeast

Add to that list: fun, enjoyment, pleasure, excitement and anything interesting to talk about. You know people who diet like this have nothing to talk about except their diet, whether it's to bitch about it or get all self-righteous about it. Jenny is in the second group. She thinks she's on to something that "doctors" and "nutritionists" and "people with more than two brain cells to rub together" can't figure out.

She's so into it that she devotes an entire post to complaining about how airport security wouldn't let her take her sugar-free strawberry jelly on the plane. She even took a picture of the jelly jar, which she refers to as "the last photo of my dear friend", before the security fascists made her throw it in the trash. This seriously seems to have ruined her entire day. I guess she must have missed the giant signs plastered over every inch of the airport and loud announcements every 30 seconds about how you're not allowed to take liquids of more than 3 oz. on board. Jelly is a liquid, Jenny. Or she just didn't care and assumed that because she's a STAH she can do whatever she wants. Bitch!

Most of her posts center around her diet and how hard it is and other tired, overdone, "sigh, it's so hard being a woman!" blathering. "I hate clothes shopping!" "I found a gray hair!" "I miss chocolate!" She obviously gets blog topic ideas from Cathy cartoons.

But the saddest part (so far) is the post she did about poop. Not surprising that Jenny McCarthy would discuss poop, right? But this post is enough to make you demand CPS moves in and gets Evan out of that crazy house as soon as humanly possible. Here's why:

I continuously monitor Evan's poop by sending it to labs to get tested to make sure things are all running smoothly (no yeast, no bacteria, no infections). Sometimes these things can exist without any physical manifestations, so I like to test for them to make sure he is in perfect health.

She continually monitors Evan's poop and SENDS IT TO LABS FOR TESTING??? The kid is seven years old—old enough that his little friends are going to find out and kick his ass to the point where no hyperbaric chamber can help him. I'm sorry, but this is child abuse. Jenny McCarthy is a monster!

And it gets worse. After sending her own shit off for a lab test, she became even more convinced that her entire family's bodies are loaded with crud.

Low and behold, my tests came back and I'm a mess! I have two gnarly gut bugs, and I have extremely high amounts of yeast in my gut. So, I started myself on an antifungal, and my poops have been phenomenal! Yeast, yeast, yeast, all coming out!

Can you imagine her staring out the window waiting nervously for the mailman to deliver her lab tests? And her mouth dropping open with horror when she discovers she's spilling over with yeast? And now, after taking an "antifungal" (like what, Lotrimin?), her shits can only be described as phenomenal? And did she say gnarly?

Her preoccupation with poop is psychotic. I looked it up (and you shouldn't because some really weird shit—literally—came up) and she is a copromaniac! I already knew Oprah was a kook magnet, but this is beyond ridiculous. Jenny McCarthy must be stopped! Every time you see her, take her sugar-free jelly away...it's like kryptonite! Then, bombard her from every angle with sugary snacks, cigarettes and anything yeasty. Don't stop until she promises to say she loves vaccines!

She and Gwyneth should get together and talk about their favorite cleanses and how to suck the joy, fun and excitement out of
every meal, conversation and aspect of life they can think of. And maybe Jenny can recruit Gwyneth to join her crusade to kill kids. It'll be fun!

Speaking of Paltrow, this week in STOOP, Gwynnie and a lineup of "super cool music experts" like Samantha Ronson, DJ AM and Guy Oseary choose their favorite "party jams." I guess it all depends on what kind of party you want to throw and how much of Madonna's ass you want to kiss. Some of the choices are pretty good and others are...huh? "1979"? "How Soon Is Now"??? Coldplay????? (Guess who picked that one.)

The best part is Gwyneth's painful attempts at sounding cool. She urges readers to get their "mother lovin' dance shoes on." She praises DJ AM's "wicked remixes". Of Gabe Tesoriero of Def Jam, she declares, "his iPod always makes it happen." And of herself, she says, "Gwyneth Paltrow is not a music expert but is an avid listener and knows how to get down." You know, I'm pretty confident that's not true. I could be wrong, but using context clues has served me pretty well in the past.

Also, I'm dying to get in on the action. Here are a few "party jams" for Gwyneth:
"Galang" — M.I.A.
"Galvanize" — The Chemical Brothers
"You Can't Do That To Me" — The Ettes
"Sour Cherry" — The Kills
"Dying In A Nightmare" — Ocean Ghosts
"Little Bitch" — The Specials
"Got To Give It Up" — Marvin Gaye
"Spitfire" — The Prodigy
"Have Love Will Travel" — The Sonics
"Peter Piper" — Run-D.M.C.

Spring Fever induces vomiting

My head is spinning with all the lame news that has been building up. Instead of blogging about it, my instinct was to run to a corner to hug my knees and rock for a few weeks. But there's no avoiding it. No matter how hard I try, I must face reality and just get this shit out. So here goes:

• Hide the bayonets: Count Grishnackh has been paroled! It's true: after 16 years in the pokey and four parole rejections, not to mention additional time for stealing a station wagon, stockpiling weapons and attempting to make a run for it while he was on some kind of weekend leave, he's finally getting out. According to the Guardian, the Count plans to stay true to his word and move to a small farm in rural Norway and has also cut all his neo-nazi ties. "I look forward the day that I [can] work on my farm, create music, write books and be with the wife and kids around the clock—and live a normal life," he said.

Whatever...I want to hear more about this wife. Is she one of those chicks that really digs convicts and writes them and then marries them in prison? Like that lovely lady who snagged the catch known as the Night Stalker? I smell another post topic...

• Today, Phil Spector was charged with the second-degree murder of Lana Clarkson, aka Mrs. Vargas in Fast Times. This is very tragic, but the real crime here is Phil's hair. What in the holy hell is going on with Phil's frigging hair?? He showed up in court looking like this over the course of his trial, then today he shows up for the verdict with this festering on his head. Is it just me or does he kind of look like Roman Polanski with this 'do? And his makeup job looks like it was done by a coroner's assistant. Under-eye blush makes dead people look like they just came in from snowmobiling.

• In the least shocking news since, well, Phil Spector was convicted of second-degree murder, the oldest Duggar, Josh and his child bride Anna are expecting what will be the first grandchild born to the Duggar gaggle. You may remember Josh and Anna as the not-old-enough-to-drink-legally couple that used their wedding gift registry to request such necessities as a tortilla warmer and an iPod Touch. So it sounds like they must have put those 400-thread-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets to use, eh? Bow-chicka-wow-wow! These two claim they didn't even KISS until they were married. Isn't that so wholesome? They also have a whole bunch of new resources on their website, which I'm afraid is going to require a whole other post. Let's just say the "theatrical blockbuster" Fireproof, starring Kirk Cameron, gets a five out of five Jesus fish rating from these two.

Anyway, Josh and Anna called a family meeting back in February and "surprised" everyone with the news that Anna is knocked up. They were surprised? I don't even know these people and I predicted they'd pop a kid out nine months to the day of the wedding. OK, so I was a little off (she's due in October). The big surprise would be if these fertile bastards announce that god told them they have enough kids and to knock it the hell off already.

(Aside: If all the Duggar kids end up having 18 kids, there would be a grand total of 324 Duggar grandkids. Gross! They could possibly take over Wyoming.)

• Who's your vote for the weirdest couple of all time? Frank Sinatra and Mia Farrow? Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley? Anna Nicole Smith and that old guy? Whoever it is, this one's going to beat it: Smashing Pumpkins singer Billy Corgan and bisexual MySpace whore Tila Tequila. Yeah, you read that right. Billy Fucking Corgan and Tila Fucking Tequila.

Confession time: there was time that I adored Smashing Pumpkins. Gish, Siamese Dream, "Drown"...grunge-era SPs. Then, one by one, I started intensely hating each member of the band...D'arcy first, then Billy, then James Iha...until I almost can't even listen to the songs I like anymore for fear of promoting them in some small way. Billy Corgan is so dead to me that I want to reanimate him so I can make him dead to me again.

Well, that's about all I can take for now. Oh, I almost forgot! Jane's Addiction scheduled a show in Cowtown!! If you go, stop by and say hi. I'll be the one being carried out on a stretcher when "Ocean Size" starts up.

RoL3.1: Open up and say...gahhhhhh

Hellooooo, 2009! Time to start anew. New resolutions, new plans, new things to look forward to...and the same old shit on this blog.

That's right, kids. Just in time for the third anniversary of Stupid & Contagious (yay!), my favorite reality train wreck Rock of Love is back for a third stab at making us think Bret Michaels really just wants a nice girl. The RockitKing has already given up on all of the Of Loves (thanks for nothing, Flav). But I, being mentally ill, am right here again, plopped in front of the TV and hating myself for the entire hour.

And what an hour it is. During the first ep of the last season of RoL, I mentioned my first impression was that I'd never seen so much bad hair in my life. Well, this time my first impression is that there are some plastic surgeons in this world that are on the run to South America as we speak, because what was done to some of these chicks can only be defined as criminally disfiguring. I mean, Michael Jackson's surgeon wouldn't say no and his nose fell off. At least half of these girls are struggling to stand upright. Bret seems to have gotten a little refresher, too. I'm guessing permanent cosmetics and a little chemical peel...

So once again, Bret kicks the show off by taking photos of the girls "for their backstage passes" and makes the same stupid joke for the third time about getting a look at their souls through the lens. The lineup of skanks this time around looks like a fucking sideshow. One girl, Gia, makes a big stink about how she loves being tied up. Another stunner named Brittanya has her dimples pierced and describes herself as "a little bit not too smart."

The first ho to step up and get her picture taken is Brittaney (not to be confused with Brittanya) and she looks a little familiar to Bret. Surprise! She's a porn star! And Bret, of course, is familiar with her "work." She hopes Bret won't hold her past against her. Seriously.

Then we have Constandina who hails from the "Appalachian mountains" and has a master's degree in storytelling. She references her "third eye" and I can already tell she's not going to win so let's not waste too much time on her. We also have Ashley, who Bret says looks like Juliette Lewis, but looks more like a Barbie doll, but when you squish its forehead into its chin, to me. Next in line is wild animal trainer Megan; brothel-madam-wannabe Natasha; Brazilian nut Marcia; a 40-year old with chicken cutlets for cheeks named Maria; Poison groupie Beverly; a Penthouse Pet named Taya who shows Bret her ass; and finally Mindy, who recently had her face sharpened.

And then there's Nikki, or as she calls herself, DJ Lady Tribe, or as I like to call "her," The Thing. The Thing makes Daisy and Frenchie from last season look like pillars of class and sophistication. I mean, she is seriously the most disgusting hot mess of melted plastic, synthetic hair and goofballs I've ever seen in my life. To tantalize Bret, she sings him a rap that she wrote herself...on two pieces of paper with the headings GENITAL HERPES and GONHORREA. I wish I was making this up. Then she appears on camera slurring that everything she's on "is legal" before belching into the camera. And it only gets worse from here, if you can believe it. Just you wait.

So this season, Bret decides that he can't keep a girl because he can't find someone who can hang on the road. So he's loading all the hobags on tour busses and dragging them around the country with him on his solo tour. Of course, he makes the same wisecrack about rock n' roll being the cause of and the solution to all his relationships. Thank god he doesn't reference rock as his "bitch goddess" again, though. The bitches load up on blue and pink tour busses, with help from our old friend Security Goon Big John, who is shown emptying a trash can that seems to be filled to the brim with tampons. Oh god, please bleach your hands after that, Security Goon Big John.

As soon as the busses hit the highway, the drama begins. Squishy Barbie Doll Head and Brazil Nut start fighting right off the bat all the way to the first stop in Louisville. There, they meet Bret at his concert and are immediately brought out on stage to skank it up for the crowd. All manner of drunken antics take place including make outs, boob reveals and ass lickings. About three-quarters of the girls act like mega-sluts in front of the audience while the rest interview their disgust. Then if that wasn't bad enough, the real action starts in at the after-party.

OK, when I say real action, what I really mean is likely the skankiest thing to ever happen in the history of reality TV. I mean, it's so skanky that even the skanks were grossed out. Want me to tell you what it was? OK, brace yourself. Gia the Masochist announces that she's not wearing underwear and hops up on the bar to prove it. The Thing announces that she's horny and proceeds to...how shall I say this? OK, she has a test tube shot, and she puts it in the test tube rack, and then she drinks from the test tube...oh hell, we don't get to see it, and thank god, because even Bret looks disgusted.

Ick, yuck, blech, gahhhhhh...anyone know how to do an at-home lobotomy?

Anyway, moving on from that unpleasantness...

The next day (?), the miscreants are allowed to leave the cramped shittiness of the tour bus and move into cushy hotel rooms, stocked full with all the booze one could ever hope for. Brazil Nut is in heaven with her bottle of tequila. She's like a chain smoker, except with shots. She's dancing around, whistling, doing cartwheels and you know what's coming next. That's right: vomit on the first episode!! A RoL first! And to make it even better, she staggers out of the bathroom, lurches up to Bret and Frenches him. Toilet seat to Bret's lips—this may be the best RoL episode ever!

After that traumatic experience, Bret pulls tomboy Beverly aside for some alone time and instantly takes to her when she says he's the only one on her free pass list, not including Edward Norton in American History X. Is that before or after the curb stomp scene, Bev? Of course, Bret doesn't ask that or any other important questions. He just immediately starts giving Bev a tongue bath.

Next Bret is accosted by Porn Girl, who looks like an even more broken down Jerry Hall, and who starts showering him with neediness. Last season, Inna the Tank introduced herself to Bret with the immortal line, "My father was never there and I just want someone to love me." Porny says essentially the same thing and adds, "If you want me to be bisexual, I will" which is even more pitiful. Bret actually interviews that she's coming off too needy and wisely gets the hell out of the situation ASAP.

After a couple more fights, it's elimination time, and The Thing is wearing a red bathing suit and can barely stand up. Bret says there's urgency in the elimination ceremony this year because "I have to be in Indianapolis by morning." Better get moving, Bret! It's a long haul from Louisville! To make it snappy, Bret calls the names of the girls on the chopping block and it's all the ladies that caused the most drama on this ep. Of the group, Bret decides to keep Brazil Nut and Porny around for another week, which means Gia's out and, goddammit, The Thing is gone! The Thing is splayed out on the floor of the studio while the PAs are tearing down the set around her. Two hapless assistants have to drag her off the set. Oh, Thing, no one will ever forget you. You and your test tube shots...

This season: boobs, ass painting, bikini hockey, boobs, Hatchet again, "bitch," "I'll knock your ass out," boobs, Mud Bowl 3, and big john saying "I specifically asked you guys not to be slutty." Happy new year!