Crowned: People, Such as the Iraq, and Such As Like That….

There’s only more episode left and I’m already starting to feel sad. I don’t know where I’m going to go to find dumb, bitchy, shallow, moronic women constantly undermining each other and acting bat-shit crazy. Well I guess there’s always The Bachelor, the Bachelorette, Wild Girl’s Club, Rock of Love, Flava of Love, The Simple Life, America’s Next Top Model, Big Brother, Cashmere Mafia, Gossip Girl, Girls Next Door, Desperate Housewives, Project Runway, The Apprentice, Lipstick Jungle, Grey’s Anatomy, The Hills, Miss America, I Love New York, Hey Paula, Private Practive, Real World, Real World/Road Rules Challenge, Real Housewies or Orange County, ………..

But those shows are all just so plastic.

We begin this week shortly after the aftershocks stopped from Angela stampeding offstage when she and her daughter were desashed. Christan, AKA Hootie McBoob, and Ada, AKA Scarecrow are upset that they didn’t get to say goodbye to, or get the iPod back that they loaned Ghetto Fatulous and Babyfat before they hightailed it off stage. Hollis, Bighead and Unitard are attempting a pep talk when Lauren, AKA Firecrotch tells them that she doesn’t need their advice and it was not requested. Hollis tried to tell Firecrotch that she wasn’t speaking to her but Firecrotch’s eyes and hair go black and her skin gets pale and veiny, so the good girls know they need to leave before one of them is flayed with magic.

After the three leave, Firecrotch explains to Hootie McBoob why she got all Dark Willow on them saying that she hates when they get on their high horse and try to talk down to her. She also doesn’t understand how they can talk about people being beautiful inside and out when “there are still people here who aren’t pretty on the outside.” Her words, not mine. Firecrotch, have you ever heard of a website called TVgasm? Because you would do great here! Anyway, Hootie tells Firecrotch that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and Firecrotch just laughs and hugs Hootie McBoob saying, “Oh that’s why I love you Christan. You can always make me laugh.”

Her mom is making the exact same face, just in case you couldn’t read it.

The next morning Linnea comes in wearing her best Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation 1814 ensemble and informs the ladies to get dressed in their casual rehearsal clothes so that they can begin working on their opening dance number for the show. When the “ladies” enter the dance studio, they all let out a sorority girl squeal when they see all of the past contestants waiting for them. The ladies reminisce about old times. “Remember when Linnea told us to put on our casual rehearsal clothes? That was so funny.”

Scott Grossman, or as we call him around the TVgasm office, Boobsweat, enters and riles up the ladies even more with a bastardization of the WCW’s “are you ready to rumble?” only gayer. Boobsweat begins rehearsing with the pageanteers and we get to see that the majority dance like blind epileptics in an earthquake.

Stop looking at my boobies.

Back at the house, Linnea tells the ladies that part of their duties as Miss CW Reality Show Filler Until the Strike is Over will be to host luxurious gala functions for powerful dignitaries, such as Vince McMahon and the fat guy from Reaper. Their contest this week is to host a cocktail party for some powerful VIPs, organizing everything from drinks, to cocktails to libations.

The ladies scurry and begin setting up the lanai for their mystery dates. Gina tries to take control since she is a professional party planner back in Texas, which means she runs over the armadillo herself. Each pair creates separate hors d’ oeuvres for the party ranging from twizzler and asparagus compote to tomato and cauliflower sandwiches on white bread. Mona and Firecrotch struggle the most with this portion of the challenge as neither of them knows how to cook since Mona simply gets her sustenance from the blood of freshly slain puppies and Firecrotch lives off the backwash that Mona regurgitates into her mouth.

Gina gives some last minute advice to the crew, telling them to never leave a guest alone, never act rushed or hurried and never under any circumstances take a diarrhetic right before a party. She can speak from experience.

Always make sure there’s a roll of paper towels around just in case.

The mystery guests arrive and all of the pageanteers once again squeal with girlish glee as they see that the guests are the most important men in the lady’s lives. No, not their stylists. It’s their husbands, brothers, boyfriends and in Unitard’s case, her chubby, gay best friend. Everyone spends time catching up on everything that they have been through so far and the men try to act like they care while wearing a sash emblazoned with the name of their loved one’s team name proceeded by “Mr.” (e.g. Mr. Blessed Beauties, Mr. Daredevil Divas, Mr. Mona and Firecrotch).

Linnea lumbers out to the patio in her finest Sears’s cocktail dress from their Billy Jean King collection and reminds the ladies that although they are having fun, they are still being judged on grace, physical beauty and social morays. Firecrotch immediately tosses over a table and screams, “that’s not fair! You know I can’t do those things!”

After the party, the ladies are ushered inside to wait while the men decide which team exemplified the greatest qualities necessary to have a successful cocktail party on the CW. The men are reminded that they may not pick their own loved ones and Mr. Firecrotch pipes up and says, “that is not a problem.” As the ladies anxiously await the outcome, their kickass 42 inch HD plasma screen TV comes on so the ladies can watch the deliberation process. Moya, Unitard, Gina and Hollis all overhear great remarks about their social graces, food and appearance while another gentlemen states:

“That redheaded girl smelled like motor oil and desperation.”

Later Firecrotch’s husband and Hootie McBoob’s hunk of a bear of a dad enter the room as stand in cabana boys. I miss Cabana Boy John, and there will always be a place in my spank tank for him, but Hootie McBooob’s dad is, for this week only, taking the top spot in the Fozzie cream-atorium. My husband….I mean Hootie’s dad makes the obligatory speech regarding everyone’s beauty and talent and the fact that only one team could win, before announcing that Moya and Unitard were this week’s winners. As everyone applauds, you can see the look of anger cross Firecrotches puffy face as she sarcastically claps and whispers something to her mother, like a true Miss Congeniality.

This week there is only one gift on the tray and when they open it a card resides within. Unitard reads the card aloud and states that she and her mother have won a trip to a spa to help them unwind and hopefully moisturize Unitard’s T-zone.

After the gift ceremony all of the men are brought into the house for more cocktails and a healthy amount of vomiting. That’s right vomiting. As Moya chats with a gentleman caller she hears Mona grumble “I’m gonna be sick” before Mona grabs Moya’s unwrapped gift box and pukes inside it, refusing to get up from her chair. Hollis assumes that Mona’s Maui Wowie chicken caused her to toss her chicken, but I assume it was the memory of Firecrotch’s bright orange slimy little body wriggling out of her womb some 20 years ago. As a sign of true love, Mona’s husband encourages her to stay at the party in her chair and holds a kitchen pot beneath Mona’s chin for her random upheavals.

I loved her when they ripped off her face and stapled it back on again, and I’ll love her through this.

Across the gracious drawing room, Gina and her husband are getting awkwardly cozy on the sofa. Hootie McBoob sees Gina and her husband of 27 years smooch and declares that Gina is a “freak in the sheets” which is an obvious case of the slut calling the…..just a case of a slut talking. Hollis enters, chastely holding the hand of her boyfriend, and future go-go boy, and sees her mother canoodling. Hollis hangs in her head in shame and wanders up the stairs to emblazen a scarlet S on her H&M sweater in lieu of her mother daring to kiss her balding, chubby, gotta-make-the-donuts-guy looking husband of nearly thirty years.

Upstairs Hootie McBoob chides Hollis for having such a skank for a mother, as kids on the playground will one day do to Hootie’s children. Gina overhears the gentle ribbing and laughs out loud, partly from the joke made but mostly from the Merlot and repressed sexual energy. Hollis covers her face and says that she doesn’t want to comment or think about such shameful behavior, causing Gina to wander out of the room wondering what the big deal is, before going to investigate whether the washing machine in the house has a spin cycle.

The morning after, Gina is enjoying her breakfast with black and white flashbacks of her shameful behavior running through her head. Hollis enters and Gina immediately apologizes for her behavior. “I never should have left him blueballed like that.” Hollis tells her mother that it is one thing for her mother to tie up her husband and play Mistress of the Night in their bedroom, but the entire house and the entire viewing audience of the show saw it, which equals almost 14 people! Gina once again apologizes for kissing her husband, something Mona would never be caught dead doing, unless their was some kind of jewelry involved, and Gina and Hollis hug it out, bitches.

And then Gina started making out with Drew Carey. That woman gets around!

Linnea gathers all of the “ladies” in the sitting room to tell them that this week they are being judged on their response to their pageant interview questions. They will be judged on poise, response and whether or not they know where Iraq is.

Each team scatters and begins practicing their strategy for the interview. Hootie McBoob immediately hits the atlas to determine whether the world is flat or round, because that one has tripped her up before. Mona and Firecrotch bombard each other with random questions and answers hoping that one of them will be their interview questions. “Do know-it-all douches from Texas piss you off and why?” Firecrotch attempts to ask a question about world affairs and ends up throwing a hissy fit because she can’t make the words come out of her mouth as easily as she does a swarm of bees. As usual, Bighead chastises her mother for every thought, move, idea, gesture and blackhead she has.

At the auditorium Shanna, Carson and Whatserhead introduce themselves to the pageanteers. Snaggletooth and Bighead are up and are asked by Carson, “if you could acquire one of each other’s characteristics or qualities, what would it be and why?” Bighead pipes up first and plays the kidney card, saying that she would want her mother’s strength since as we all know, Snaggletooth survived a kidney transplant. I may be incorrect, but from my understanding a kidney transplant these days is a walk in the park. They can basically pop a new one in like a SIM card and you’re back to drinking straight vodka the next day. What? No? Whatever, I’m still sick of this pair using Snaggletooth’s surgery as their ace in Carson’s hole. Get a new gimmick.

Snaggletooth responds that she would like to acquire Bigheads “strongheartedness,” which Microsoft Word just told me is not a real word. Snaggletooth again doles out the kidney hype saying that Bighead dealt with her mother’s illness very strongheartedly and exuded strongheartiquatiquacity throughout it all.

Now’s the time to ask for your mom’s teeth.

Shanna asks the two, “Which team should not be in the final four, and why?” Both mother and daughter refuse to give a specific team name but basically say that the team that doesn’t exemplify the high practices and standards of the illustrious CW Network, and their fine affiliates nationwide, should not be in the final four before exclaiming “Kidney transplant!”

Whatsherhead asks the two “should couples divorce when they are not happy, or should they stay together for the sake of the children?” Bighead says that not being happy isn’t a good enough reason to get divorced. I personally can’t think of a better one, unless you’re Mrs. Eddie Murphy. Snaggletooth says that she has been married to her husband for 23 years, and they have been through bad times, “like the time I gave birth to a child with a head like a medicine ball, I won’t say who, and my husband and I couldn’t have sex for 12 years until I keagled my way back in shape. Kidney transplant!”

Next up are Scarecrow and Hootie McBoob. Carson asks the same question and Scarecrow says that she would like to acquire her daughter’s dark hair. This can easily be done in aisle 7 of Duane Reade by picking up a box of Clairol’s “Deep Midnight Skank #37.” Hootie McBoob studies her mother intensely for an awkwardly long time before settling on her mother’s smile, because it’s so warm, welcoming and lacking cold sores.

Whatserhead asks the two “What is the key generational difference between the two of you?” Scarecrow says that the thing she doesn’t understand about her daughter is her sense of entitlement and how she chose to leave home at 15 just because she heard a rumor that Roman Polanski was casting a new film. Hootie McBoob says that what she doesn’t understand about her mother is how her mother doesn’t stand up for herself. Hootie says that her mother’s husband is very controlling and Scarecrow does anything that he says. I can totally understand that based on the bohunk I saw at the party. I would do anything he said too. “Take of my pants and eat them.” “Okie dokey.”

Uhhhhh….pass?

Shanna asks the same question as before and Hootie McBoob replies that Moya and Unitard should not be in the final four since they have not taken the time to get to know Scarecrow and Hootie McBoob. This is probably just a fear of contamination. Scarecrow agrees and the judges send the pair backstage.

Gina and Hollis take the stage with their usual poise and charm. Shanna reiterates her question and both mother and daughter diplomatically respond that everyone who has made it this far deserves to be there, although some exemplify a mother/daughter relationship better than others. You listening to this Hilary Clinton?

Talk about blowing dad and I will chop your head off I swear to god.

Whatsherface once again asks the generational difference question. Gina states that she doesn’t understand how her daughter does not cook or clean, whereas Gina believes that a woman should be a chef in the kitchen and whore in the living room on the couch while everyone is watching. Hollis says that she can’t grasp the women of her mother’s generation’s need to have a man to help them out, even though Hollis clung to her boo’s arm like it was made of gold throughout the entire cocktail party.

Mona and Firecrotch are up next and Carson once again asks the quality swapping question. Mona says that she would want her daughter’s determination and ability to step on anyone who gets in her way. She admires that her daughter isn’t afraid to make people cry or remind them that they’re doing something wrong with a gentle pimp slap or pleasant women-in-prison-style “broomsticking.” Firecrotch wants her mother’s ability to love, even a puffy faced bitch of a daughter like her.

I wish my eyes could close all the way.

The generational difference question comes up and Mona feels that her daughter speaks her mind much more quickly and honestly than Mona’s generation ever would have dreamed, for fear of losing another husband or country club membership. Firecrotch says that she is different from her mother basically because she’s not racist. Firecrotch dances around it, and doesn’t exactly say the words, but we all know that this is what she means. I personally find it despicable when someone chooses to look down upon or mock someone simply because they aren’t the same as you, and it’s especially reprehensible coming from this orange haired freak.

When asked what team should not be in the final four, Firecrotch immediately spits out Gina and Hollis saying that those two are not sincere and are both putting on a façade. Hilarious, coming from a girl wearing 3 layers of base, two jars of rouge and 12 different shades of eye make-up. And don’t even get me started on Mona. Woman looks like she bungee jumped off a bridge with the ropes tied behind each ear. Her face is so tight she has to blink her lips. Her hair is so big because there’s a knot of skin in the back of her head. I got a million of ‘em.

Moya and Unitard are up next and they both realize the trick question about who should go home and answer diplomatically stating that the team who does the worst in the task tonight should be sent packing. When Carson asks his stock “quality or trait” question Unitard says she wants her mother’s strength and Moya says she wants her daughter’s outgoing personality. Whatsherface doesn’t even ask a question since these two are too boring and homeless to care about.

Got a quarter? It’s not for drugs or alcohol, we swear.

I just have to add; God bless DVR because I breezed right by another one of those commercials for the new Kate Hudson/Matthew McCaughnaghy train wreck. Gosh, I hope they get together at the end!

Everyone is called back on stage for the seventh ceremonial desashing CW ceremony with sparkly scissors. Gina and Hollis, Scarecrow and Hootie McBoob, and Mona and Firecrotch are called to the front of the stage, all having stand-out interviews, but for very different reasons. Shanna immediately crowns Gina and Hollis as the winners this week, which means absolutely nothing. Gina and Hollis are happy about it though and hug and thank each other, while Firecrotch simply glares at the two like one of those sore-loser Red Feathers in Troop Beverly Hills.

Scarecrow and Hootie and Mona and Firecrotch are left in the bottom two. Each team is berated for their faulty interview skills before Shanna tells Firecrotch and Mona to pick up the jewel encrusted ceremonial desashing scissors and desash Scarecrow and Hootie. There are crocodile tears all around as Firecrotch immediately snips those sashes and sends another pair packing. “Don’t let the door hit you in your fat ass on the way out, losers! Woo Hoo! Suck it, Hootie!”

Sorry, the other women looked like they were hit in the face with a frying pan when they stood next to you. Now they’ll just look plain old homely.

So this is it. We’re down to the pageant finale next week. What do you think of the final teams? Who do you want to win, and which red-haired douches do you want to see fall flat on their stupid faces? Which of the guys did you find the hottest. Hootie’s dad is mine, I called him! Leave a message, if you please.