This week on Daisy of Love..
Don’t be sick, Gasmii. By now most of you should know not to eat before reading my recaps.
Also, at this point in the game the Yack Castle is getting pretty claustrophobic. Which means that it’s a perfect time to shove them all in the kitchen together to whip up a five course meal! Riki tells them as much wearing a t-shirt that I’m sure is not just the name of a band but pretty much how he feels about most of these guys.
Or it’s just an ad for a new line of Daisy dolls.
None of these guys can cook, or so they say but TT does have one charming dish in his repertoire- Trailer Park Pizza. It consists of a slice of bread with ketchup and cheese on top that is left out in the sun to heat.
“Then we finished off the rotgut and gangbanged Mr. Peepers in a wig. I mean my sister.”
Is this a joke? We made mini pizzas in college but they were made with english muffins, spaghetti sauce and shredded mozzerella. We put parmesan and red pepper flakes on top and it wasn’t bad. Oh no, I should not have admitted that. My Nana is rolling in her grave again. Sorry, Nana.
Flex makes a joke about hoping that Daisy likes Ramen because he can’t cook for shit and we are introduced to four “caterer/cooking helpers” who are obviously aspiring actors. They must really suck at “emoting” if this is the best gig that they can get, but I suppose that you have to start somewhere. Oh, and they’re supposed to be hot, too. That’s a good one.
I heard that “Groomer Has It” is hiring soon.
Here’s what they have to cook:
TT- lasagna. He’s knows how to make pizza so he should know how to make lasagna. He’s practically Italian, he’s the next Mario Battalli, folks.
12 Ain’t Packin’- Red velevet cake. Yum, love me some of that for sure. Only thing is that baking is an exact science and you have to be very particular. If his perfect chin strap is any indication of how anal he is, he should be fine.
Flex- Chicken cordon bleu. I know that it sounds all french and fancy but it’s actually really easy to make. And, dammit, he’s wearing makeup again. Is he having an affair with Daisy’s makeup artist?
Don’t make Daisy look bad! Now you’re prettier than her.
Peeps gets french onion soup and this is what Big Rig gets:
I didn’t know they could do that! No wonder that part of my vegetable patch smells funny!
It’s a quiche, actually, and it’s funny that they gave a retro metrosexual dish to the biggest lug on the planet. AND he gets the gay actor as his helper. It smells like a set-up to me but he handles it very well. Meaning nothing gets broken and gay actor boy doesn’t get knocked on his cute little bottom.
Top chef, if you know what I mean.
I hear baby sleepy time music in the background which can only mean one thing- Peepers is up next. He’s slicing onions and he can’t stop crying. More pefect scripting; give the biggest weenie an opportunity to cry a river.
It’s also proof that he doesn’t know how to cook. Never breathe through your nose when cutting onions, only your mouth, and never stand with your head directly over them. And open a window, for God’s sake. Done ranting. For now.
Big Rig has made his quiche in the shape of a heart and Mr. Peepers has decided to set the table. He does an amazing job, placing candles just so, strewing more damn rose petals everwhere and even putting a table runner down the center over the tablecloth.
Because every straight guy knows how to do that, right?
They set the food out and everything looks good except TT’s lasagna. I thought it was because he burnt the top too much and there’s none of that delicious bubbling sauce poking through the cheese but then I took a closer look, and it’s food art.
Dead Douche Self Portrait with Bow.
The zucchini quiche is served first and you’re in for a shock, Gasmii. She doesn’t know what it is. Never seen a quiche and I think that she calls the zucchini squash which leads her brain into calling this dish, ‘squish.’ I, for one, am delighted and I think that, had this been last week with Fox still around, I would be calling my brains that as well. She, on the other hand, hasn’t had enough time to recover from his duncitude because she seems a little confused.
“Am I supposed to snort this?”
Riki says that it looks too runny but Daisy likes it. She loves Peepers soup too and even TT’s lasagna, appearances aside. Flex brings out the chicken cordon bleu and I’m going to guess that she’s never had it before either because she asks if it’s supposed to be pink inside. It’s the ham, MO-RON. She says that it’s really good and then out comes the red velvet cake.
Served by the lovechild of Wayne Newton and Victor/Victoria.
Flex says that there is no way that 12 Pack has cooking skills since he is a professional douchebag (way to stab your buddy in the back, dude) and I’m wondering the same thing. It looked good but he drizzled Hershey’s chocolate syrup all over it. Hmmm.
Well, once again she loves it and says that it’s the best she’s “ate-en” in a long time.
She needs to stop hanging out at Gymboree so much.
Riki is disappointed. Nobody made anything inedible and he was sooo looking forward to trashing the guys. I figured that she like everything because she burnt out all her tastebuds from coke and cigarettes but if Riki says it’s good, I have to beleive it.
Which brings up one itty bitty dilemma- how is she going to pick the winner? Who is going to get the not-overused-at-all-term/one on one date with Daisy? How about a completely not overused tactic never before seen in the history of mankind. She makes them tell her who deserves to be with her the most and who deserves it the least, under the guise of ‘compatability.’ How original. The only twist she throws in is that they cannot nominate themselves.
Mr. Peepers picks TT ftw and Daisy finally realizes that he’s in love with him. It’s about time! Once again, what a MO-RON.
He picks Big Rig as the least likely to share her crotch critters which incites him to say that he wants to slap him in his pretty mouth. And those, my friends, are words that you NEVER want to hear come out of a redneck’s mouth. The next thing you know you’ll be squeeling like a pig with your pants around your ankles.
In other words, what Peepers beats off to every night.
TT says Big Rig is the least compatable as well so now our good old boy has two wimps to choose from when rape time rolls around tonight, and then TT hems and haws when it comes to picking the most suitable guy. Riki tells him to man up and choose somebody and I think some spittle actually flew out of his mouth when he was yelling at him to make up his mind.
He doesn’t want to seem like Peeper’s bitch so he finally picks Flex. They bleep out Peeper’s “Aw, Fuck,” and he knocks his chair over on his way out of the room. We are watching a heart get broken, Gasmii. I’m not even lying when I say that he is totally in love with that skinny so-called ‘rocker.’
It’s a very dramatic moment, one that no doubt made Peepers cry all over again when he watched it on sunday and the editors put up a goofy soap opera spoof full of scenes of love, hate and skunk spray. They called it “Daisy of Our Lives,” but I prefer “The Not-Hung and the Chestless.” We all know who I’m talking about so let’s move on.
Holy crap, Peeps is crying in the restroom. I hope he upped his fluid intake this week cuz his tear ducts are working overtime, and what if his family is watching this? I hope his brother or uncle gives him a serious beating. Hell, if they can’t get the job done, I heard that Dakota Fanning’s been working out a lot lately.
Hell, even his own shadow could kick his ass.
He finally comes back to the table where it’s Big Rig’s turn. Flex gets the thumbs up and Peeps gets the thumbs down. She calls on 12 Pack for his answer but calls him Dave. He wants to be called by his real name now but we will be having none of it here, Gasmii. I feel like calling him ‘Dame’ from now on because of his famewhorery. Nobody cares that your real name is Dave, dude, believe me.
Because of this, Riki asks, “Can someone kill me, please?” Yeah, 12′s a douche but what did you expect? That you’d be hanging out with Brad Pitt and George Clooney on Lake Como instead of in a cheap mansionette that has seen more body fluids that Pam Anderson and Jenna Jameson combined? This is VH1, not the Discovery Channel, buddy. If you want to see a real man, go hang out with the crab fisherman on ‘The Time Bandit’ for a change.
The truth is, he’s still the voice of reason and I don’t disagree with him, he just didn’t know how truly lame all this would turn out to be. So, it’s Flex and Peeps once again and the last to be heard from is Mr. Popular, Flex himself. He picks Peepers and 12 Pack because 12 has a steady job. Oh, and because he’s been through this before. Doesn’t his steady job involve receiving a paycheck from VH1? So those two go hand in hand. Correct me if I’m wrong but I doubt it.
So, after all the drama, she picks Flex for the solo date and decides to take Big Rig and Peepers out to try to make a decision on who to get rid of, but first, it’s drink ’til you stink time.
They all hang out by the fire pit where we get part II of the worst song in the histiry of bad songs played by losers who can afford a guitar. Only this time Daisy sings along. No. Words.
I lost my brains last week and now you want to take my ears too?
Oh Calgon, take me away from this nightmare! Mercifully, it doesn’t last very long but TT is all in a tizzy of delight because they shared a special moment and the whole world fell away, and he jizzed in his pants because a girl paid attention to him for two minutes.
Those two minutes are enough for Daisy and she takes off with 12 Pack. To her room. Maybe someone will finally get laid on this show, damn.
There seems to be a shortage of spirits at this point of the game and TT asks Flex where the vodka is. Why, it’s upstairs with 12 Pack and Daisy. How conveeeenient, hmmmmm? Our little macho man decides that he’s going to go up there and get it cuz that’s what a man would do and he and Daisy have a connection now, gosh darn it, and 12 Pack is ruining it!
He knocks on Daisy’s door, 12 answers it and pours a good amount of some cheap no-name bottom shelf crap into his cocktail mixer. Daisy’s all, “that’s enough!” and I wonder if the producers decided to curb the intake of these guys for safety’s sake. Or if Daisy doesn’t want them to drink all her vodka because she can’t fuck sober. Don’t know, don’t care, but it would be really funny if the guys just plain drank the entire stock and the show is just too cheap to replace it.
You know that your show has reached new depths when the contestants have to beg for booze from other contestants. It’s like some kind if cruel drunken modern Oliver Twist.
“Please…..*slur*…….can I have another?”
TT gets his drink on and starts throwing a hissy fit, yelling and hurling things downstairs. Daisy hears it and calls it “Battlestar Dramatica.” Blasphemy! Do not take the name of my favorite show in vain! I will hunt you down, tie you to a chair and make you watch your own show! I’m not kidding.
Daisy blames herself and asks why she’s never good enough for anybody, and 12 tells her that he’ll always be there for her.
And her boobies. But mostly just the boobies.
TT is throwing bottles over his shoulder at the bar. There’s a huge window behind him and I’m waiting for him to hit it. No such luck.
I guess it’s kind of hard to hit stuff when you’re passed out.
He comes out of his alcoholic coma and then starts running around with a red spatula, drumming on every surface that he can find. Lesson for the week- don’t mix vodka and wine. Unless you can turn it into outing yourself on the internet a la Andy Dick, then by all means, go ahead.
Never one to miss out on the drama, Daisy drags 12 Pack down to the fire pit to see what’s going on. The other guys must have found something to drink because they all look pathetic, dejected and TRASHED. Like Keifer Sutherland or Lindsay Lohan trashed. And they can’t perk up because just like Lohan, Daisy’s hogging all the coke.
Pitiful TT is all upset because Daisy never takes him aside to make out with him, like she does with 12 Pack. And I’d like to ask a question: who here has ever gotten laid from whining? Didn’t think so. Being a pathetic, needy loser might get you a woman if she’s confined to a wheelchair and you’re stranded on a desert island but most girls with the ability to run away, will do so.
As will most retarded people.
Daisy slurs out that she’s fucking stressed and there’s only one of her to go around. Gang Bang! I wish. TT says that he’s insecure but so is Daisy, slur, slur, slur, “Ah needs youse to bestrooonng,” head bobble, arms flailing, “ahhhh, unngghh,” and then she runs off to go over this latest turn of events with the other epileptic elves that live in her weave.
But oh happy day, TT runs after her. TT, my man, when your pants hang down below your ass there is a very strong possibility that you will run like a five year old with a load of shit in his drawers. A very slow five year old with a load of shit in his pants.
Now I know why none of the kids in my neighborhood can outrun the cops
I cannot stand this whole loose hanging trousers thing. I have a friend who teaches high school in Cleveland and he spends half his day telling them to pull up their pants. I swear, if he ever turns into one of those teachers who snaps, it’s going to be because of those droopy jeans.
Anyway, he catches up to her somehow and starts apologizing. She feels the vomit rise and can’t figure out if it’s the vodka she drank or the fact that his hands are all over her.
I’m going with the hands.
The night of drama is finally over and Flex gets his date with Daisy the next morning. There is a heart shaped target set up next to the pool and sadly, TT is not tied to it. Some guy older than Robin Hood is there to show them how to use the bow and arrow and I hope he has a good pacemaker because she shrieks like a lunatic everytime she shoots. On the positive side, Flex looks damn good holding that bow.
I don’t need a caption here, do I? Just gaze and enjoy. By the way, don’t tell anybody but Flex is really Flipit.
On the negative side, daisy decides to kiss Flex after every shot and poor Robin Hood has to back away before his morning Metamucil ends up all over the side of the pool. He is relieved of his duties so that these two can sit down to the normal Daisy of Love brunch of Champagne and more Champagne.
They chat and Flex tries to come off as sincere but I’m not buying it. He’s the type of guy who wants to win, he doesn’t give a damn about Daisy. He is the one truly completely alpha male here but sweet and caring, he ain’t.
After her brunch, TT comes up to her room to engage in some Shakesperean drama. In other words he pulled a Brutus and stabbed Mr. Peepers in the back. He said that he’s sorry for the crap he put her through the night before and tells her that he’s cool with her sending his bestie home. Wait, that’s not right. I believe that he ASKED her to send Peepers packing. Asshole.
I wonder if this was filmed on the Ides of March.
It gets even worse. TT acts like sacrificing his friend is an act of honor because his feelings for Daisy are so strong that even Peepers is expendable. And she buys it! If this guy has any friends left after this crap he better be on his knees thanking God. Or blowing them.
The limo is back and it takes Daisy, Big Rig and Peppers to a sport’s bar and Daisy gets right down to it. She calls Peeps needy. He confuses needy with jealousy because he says that if a guy hit on her in a bar and bought her a drink he’d be cool with it. Little man, that doesn’t mean that your not needy, it means that you’re not straight.
Big Rig says it best when he says that any guy that tried to buy a drink for his girl better make it two or he’ll be sucking his dick. I think that Mr. McSlore would second that opinion and he’s a geek, not a redneck. A super hot geek, but a geek nonetheless.
She brings up Peepers’ relationship with TT again and asks him why he always sticks up for him and never makes a pass at her. Honey, you already answered that question at the beginning of the show. Pay attention!
Riki pow-wow time. I am hating his outfit. As much as I hate to rag on him, he looks like a high roller at Casino Windsor. Not a good thing.
He complains about Daisy never listening to his perfectly good advice, and he’s pissed because she inevitably does the exact opposite. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Reverse psychology, my friend! It works on pre-schoolers, doesn’t it?
He tells her to get rid of one of the Ambiguously Gay Duo, so buhbye Big Rig. Anyone with even the teensiest electrical charge in their brain would listen to Riki Fonzarelli, so maybe she’ll surprise us like last week. But then we’ll have to wait until the reunion to see Peepers cry over TT’s betrayal, so I’m torn here.
It’s elimination time and yet another guy has a Cathouse t-shirt on! Did you guys notice? It was an hour long ad for one of Riki’s clubs. Once again, I hope that it was worth it, Riki.
Flex gets the first star, followed by 12 Pack and TT. Uh oh! Shit! Why would she leave it down to Peepers and Big Rig if she was getting rid of Peepers? She wouldn’t, that’s why.
Peepers picks this moment to remark in interviews that he hoped that she would have sent home TT even though he said a couple of minutes earlier that he didn’t want to be in the house without him. I think that a little producer might have whispered about Brutus in his ear, or his balls finally dropped, and the dissing at supper was too much for him.
I did notice that he was absent during most of the TT drama so perhaps he really is pissed, I don’t know. The editing might be messed up as well, to confuse us. Either way, she kicks off Big Rig, using his potential for violence as an excuse to keep Peepers and continue the AGD drama.
At least you got a free t-shirt.
He is none to happy to lose to a freaking pussy and he cries like a baby.
Don’t be sad. this is a sure sign that Jesus loves you.
I heard that they’re bringing someone back next week, Gasmii. Do you think it’s London? Who else could it be? Heather? I wish. I’d do somersaults in my front yard naked if that happened. And no, I won’t tell you my address but I do adore you all!
Love and Kisses,