You are supposed to drop a quarter or a buck (if you’re feeling really generous) into their cup and walk away, not invite them to stay with you!
“Dude, can I borrow a cup of sugar AND A LIFE?!”
So, we found out this week that our favorite couch surfing vagrant has waltzed his smelly ass on over to the Yack Castle once again. And Daisy lets him in. Yay. I’m so excited.
You know what else is exciting? Auto-erotic asphixiation. Jumping out of airplanes with a ripped parachute. Russian Roulette. Doing what may or may not be exstacy that you just bought from some random hippie. Yeah, all exciting things to do BUT YOU DON’T ACTUALLY DO THEM. Unless you’re an idiot.
We open this episode with yet another montage of douche grooming. Not satisfied with hair gel application and guy liner, the editors treat us to a new form of manscaping- nipple shaving. I had a feeling that Peepers was secretly a hairy little monkey.
What’s next? Eating the bugs out of TT’s hair?
Next is another strange and random moment. When 12 Ain’t Packin’ goes down to grab Daisy’s diary it is surrounded by a half circle of those condiment squeeze bottles, each filled with a different rainbow hued liquid. I don’t see how they serve any purpose known to Man so I’m going to assume that it’s a shrine to Manic Panic hair dye that Torch left behind when his incomprehensible ass got tossed by Daisy. And I’m not talking salad here, you perverts.
There are no challenges again this week so Daisy decides to take Flex and Peepers on a daytime outing. It involves driving, so it was a smart move on their part to do it before they each drank enough to overload the L.A. water department with all the Bud Light piss they flush down the Yack Castle toilets.
Flex is bitching and moaning again. Yes Flex, we know you’ve been hurt a lot on this show but don’t you work out for a living? Shouldn’t you be stronger and more resilient than the average guy? Unless……unless you’re on steroids, hmmm? Nah, I don’t buy it. He’s not that huge. He just drinks too much and turns into a Debbie Fall-Downer.
His face does light up when they arrive to a vast dirt expanse somewhere in the California desert because, voila. They get to ride a dune buggy!
I smell a head injury….
Flex gets to drive Daisy around first and he man-handles that buggy like it was a ten dollar hooker that just tried to steal his wallet. He’s a complete maniac and it looks like a total blast. How much do you want to bet that he likes it rough? I’m willing to put my sticky fingers in his back pocket to find out.
For you, of course, Gasmii. In the spirit of research.
Daisy loves it because she’s an adrenaline junkie, she’s says that the rush is like an orgasm for her. She also screams a lot. She seems to do that quite a bit around Flex, only thing is that it’s not her prettiest moment.
Ugh. Flex should be the one screaming.
While those two are having a ball, TT decides to make the separation official. He grabs his sad belongings and moves them unto an unused room down the hall where he won’t have to listen to Peepers cry himself to sleep anymore. Cold. Poor Peepers is going to have a major meltdown when he finds out but TT doesn’t exactly seem happy in his new digs.
“Oh no, who’s going to blow me to sleep now?”
This is worse than “The Breakup” and Jennifer Aniston doesn’t even make an appearance. I don’t know about you guys, but that barren hair flipping pile of neediness makes me want to kill myself. Or Brad Pitt, for helping to make her that way.
International tabloid fodder aside, we head back to the desert only to learn that Mr. Peepers can’t drive stick for shit. He stalls the damn thing about eleventy billion times. I counted.
More sleepytime baby music plays as he finally gets the buggy moving. Barely. He never finds fourth gear and drives like this is a leisurely ride through the countryside on a Sunday afternoon, or like those ladies who insist on driving after they get a manicure but only use three fingers- one on the steering wheel and the other two on their cell phone.
FYI, it’s legal to kill these people. I checked.
I don’t drive stick either but I would have lost my patience and pushed him out of that driver’s seat and told him to strap in the passenger seat. He act like he’ll piss his pants if he goes more than 30 miles an hour. He’s sooooo boring. He’s valium in human form. He’s an afternoon in grandma’s rocking chair while watching Bassmasters, eating tofu and washing it down with skim milk.
She decides to take the dune buggy for a spin when Peeper’s snoozefest is over and she’s a wee bit devil-may-care behind the wheel. She does donuts and treats them to more air time than the two of them gave her combined. Peepers pees his pants again, Flex laughs his ass off and the inevitable happens- she flips the buggy.
“I think I just came! Oh wait, I just sat in Peepers’ wet spot.”
I have to give the girl credit for going balls out with the buggy. Either she has more guts than I gave her credit for (she did sleep with Brett Michaels) or she’s just a crazy bad driver.
Either way, it ends with somebody bottoms up and covered in filth.
They arrive back at the Yack where the pitiful little monkey discovers that TT has moved out of their room. He takes a tour of TT’s new space and acts like it’s no big deal, calling TT a pimp for having a king size bed and his own bathroom. Way to be strong, little buddy, I totally thought you’d run off to cry into the toilet again.
Boy, can this guy take a lot of abuse. He’s not completely unflappable though because he calls TT an asshole after The Chinister One tells him to go have fun in his bunkbeds. Then he does a complete about-face and delivers some toilet paper rolls to TT’s bathroom. He’s going to need it to sop up the tears he’s going to cry while he sniffs TT’s underwear for the last time. Tragic.
“And don’t pay attention to any weird noises that might come out of there.”
It’s been about a nanosecond since Flex was a smartass, so we’re way overdue for some words of wisdom from him. He sums up TT and Peepers relationship thusly: deviant rockstar plus little angel ass kisser equals one huge ass kissing rock star. Yes, and smart aleck personal trainer plus roided up famewhore equals uh, I don’t know, half of Hollywood? You and 12 Pack should take your act on the road, you’re a dime a dozen in L.A.
It’s date time for 12 Pack and TT. Daisy has a table set up under the very same light rig that Flipper did a swan dive off of so many weeks ago. It’s easy to forget about all the guys she’s eliminated so far but damn, there was a ton of crazy in that house from the very beginning. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that time has flown by with this show.
12,000 gallons of booze and a caseload of hairspray later and here we are.
Back to reality, Daisy insists on calling 12 Pack Dave so she wants to call TT by his real name. It’s Derrick, only everyone who knows him calls him Asshat, I mean Tripp Lee. I’m sorry for that mistake but he is wearing a trucker cap with that douchetastic name on it, so you can see how Asshat made more sense to me.
12 loves the name too and says, “You mean Joshua Lee?” and he proceeds to trash The Homeless One to Daisy’s face which makes her none too happy. Oh geez, could you possibly have a more obvious case of foreshadowing? Thanks, VH1.
What happens next makes me love Daisy a little bit. She turns to 12 Pack right in front of TT, and asks him to come up to her room for a nightcap (sex). TT is too much of a little bitch to let it roll off his back so he goes back into the house and trashes his room. That’s always smart. Some words of wisdom for you, TT: don’t shit where you eat and don’t trash where you sleep. Instead, how about you throw some more liquor bottles at your framed photo of Mr. Peepers?
That’s who you’re really mad at, Tripp Lee, Real Person.
I’m all excited because we’re finally going to have some bodily fluids exchanged on this show but Peepers almost ruins it for me. He’s sitting on the steps leading up to Daisy’s room, looking like an anorexic Crip crossed with a baby rhesus monkey.
With less bolodshed and more crapping of the pants.
If he actually was a gangsta, I think I know what AK47 he’d be carrying:
Now with a boo hoo tear-proof grip and trigger guard!
He half heartedly tries to get Daisy’s attention but it doesn’t last very long and the two lovebirds head inside to suck face. She gets up to change into more trashy lingerie, sticks a condom down her cleavage, and they toast each other’s luck for having people like you and me pay attention to their sorry asses.
“God, I hope she didn’t just pack Magnums.”
And Peepers decides to camp out on her doorstep so he can catch her post-coitus and profess his undying non-love to her. The chair he picked for his pathetic vigil isn’t too comfortable so he heads off to grab some pillows and a blanket. He passes Flex and TT and they rib him a little but he’s a man on a mission. Maybe he doesn’t understand boundaries. Maybe (definitely) he grew up inappropriately attatched to his momma. Either way, he looks pathetic.
Something tells me this isn’t the first time he’s bit a pillow like that.
He sprawls out on the floor and has to listen to their giggles and wiggles, 12′s True Religion jeans rubbing against his wallet chain and the squeeky sound of silicone straining against a cheap bodice. God knows it bothered him when his parents went at it and heterosexual sex still gives him the willies so he calls it a night and heads back to his bunk. He curls up with his Curious George stuffed animal, his only friend now that TT’s love is gone. I weep.
Not really, but I’m about to.
The next morning, 12 Pack is bursting with confidence since he got to give the dog a bone and (bonus) she never once made fun of his shrivelled up steroid balls! Yay, you! Now, get ready to have those shrivelled up balls crawl back up into your body cavity bacause Riki has a trick up his sleeve. And I do mean trick.
Ding Dong! There’s someone at the door, and on this show anything involving phones or doorbells is a harbinger of doom. It turns out that Riki Fonzarelli has been getting emails from London. Wow, his park bench must be close to the library becuase I’m pretty sure that there are no electrical outlets or WiFi at L.A.’s Metro Parks. So, all of you that guessed London as our blast from Daisy’s past get a gold star, or another chance to throw up right along with yours truly. Thankfully, there’s a new product for that.
Clean up has never been so easy!
These emails that Riki has been receiving consist of London having a change of heart and professing that he still has feelings for Daisy. He left out the part where he spent all of the pawnshop money and he needs a new guitar to sell. He also ran out of couches to surf and food to eat but maybe, just maybe, if he treats Flex really, really well, he might make him some Ramen noodles.
What I’m hoping for is that he fucks this up and Flex beats him to within an inch of his life, but first Riki takes him up to Daisy’s room. He knocks on the door and Daisy asks, “What’s the password?” Poor, long suffering Riki doesn’t understand what she said. He thought that she said, “What’s up, has-been?” Too cute. Self depricating and funny? When is this guy not likeable? You’re a stellar guy, Riki. I see it even if Daisy doesn’t, as do a bunch of you. Too bad that hanging out with her is sapping you intelligence, as we will find out later.
He tells Daisy that he has someone who wants to speak to her and she’s understandably confused. Talk? Put letters together to make words that form sentences? With grammar and syntax? Nooooo!!!!! And then in walks London.
In the exact same clothes he wore last time we saw him.
Riki leaves them alone and Daisy is in a state of flustered shock. She actually looks pretty. I guess that her alkie super crush washes away the strange rubbery look her features take on when she’s acting for the cameras. Or the botox is wearing off, don’t care, whatever it is, it’s an improvement.
They sit down to talk so let the bullshit begin! He stammers out some sort of apology amounting to him patting himself on the back for not being fake. He says that it stopped being a game for him when his feeeeelings got involved, that and copious amounts of Jose Cuervo. He seems……..sober.
They must have given him the Keith Richards treatment and switched his blood out
You can tell that she wants to believe him but that isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, go figure, and she must make up her mind (ha!) whether or not to keep him in the house. She tells Riki that he has to prove himself to her, blah blah, fight for her love, etc. etc. etc. and Riki tells her he’s relieved because she’s actually making sense for a change. We’ll see how long that lasts, Gasmii.
You know, at first I thought, why on earth would a sensible person like Riki bring this loser back into the house? Why let a guy with nothing going for him, no job, who doesn’t own a comb or soap, anywhere near our blow-up doll? It seems cruel but Riki has a theory. He thinks that she’ll stop pining for him once she sees him in relation to the final four guys, he’ll look like the pig that he is and everyone else will look like good guys in comparison. In other words, he’s going to let Flex and 12 Pack hatch some plot to get rid of him while making him look bad, thereby doing all the dirty work for him. Sounds good to me.
All this drama and hard thinking is taking it’s toll on Daisy’s two brain cells because she forgets how to use a door. The Force is strong with this one.
“UGH, I don’t have time for these knobhickamajiggie-thingies right now!”
Her decision is made so we all head down to watch her tell the guys. The reactions are priceless- Flex is pissed. 12 Pack is hella disappointed, TT looks resigned because what is he going to do about it? Throw more bottles and overturn another five pound bed? Please.
He should be really, really pissed because the arrival of London means that the available quantities of alcohol are about to hit an all time low. Get ready to beg for vodka again, turd.
And what about Peepers. The poor guy has reverted back to childhood and is dressed like Sonny Crockett, visions of speedboats filled with cocaine and hot Latin men filling his head. I think that London being there doesn’t even register for him. He’s too busy mourning his relationship with TT. He’s barely present. His brain is replaying happier times with his buddy while his body is doing it’s best “Weekend at Bernie’s” imitation.
We get a chorus of guys calling bullshit on the London situation and their arguments all make perfect sense. He CHOSE to leave. He hasn’t had to skateboard or cook for her love, or the biggest one of all, he hasn’t had to sit there and listen to Fox all this time! He has in no way, shape or form paid his dues like they have and now he’s just going to waltz in and take over? Screw that! They better have some Major League hazing planned for him next week or I’m going to be pissed, or make him relive the cage fights he missed out on.
Riki disappoints me yet again, but only in a minor way when he defends her decision by saying that Daisy still has feeeelings for London and needs some resolvement. Oh, Riki. RESOLUTION, my child, and stop digging around in daisy’s stash, your IQ is taking a major hit this week.
They leave London to the wolves and he sits down on the one empty couch with a nice big cock-sucking grin on his face.
Keep grinning, jerk, tomorrow you’re going to be picking your teeth off the floor.
Don’t let me down, Flex.
They all shake his hand like good sports who smile in your face before kicking your ass, except for TT. Once again, he’s being a dumbass. Don’t ever let anyone know that they are getting to you! You end up looking like a pussy, not the hard-ass you think you are.
Everyone leaves the room except for London and Peepers. He finally wakes up from his reverie and is all friendly to London, telling him that the boots he left behind are safely ensconced in Peepers’ closet, right behind his Barbie Dream House. He also tells him that he can stay in his room if he’d like. Awwww! Is he moving on? I’m so proud of him! More baby sleepytime music plays and another angel gets it’s wings. Or is it fairy?
“The other bed’s soaked with tears but I’ll change the sheets for you.”
He runs up to check on Daisy with a renewed spring in his step, the first blush of love will do that to you. He’s all sweet and loving and caring and even does the patented Daisy of Love face grab smother kiss. Are they all afraid that her augmented face will slide off like the Nazi in Raiders of the Lost Ark if they don’t hold it in place? Have they run out of foundation and are stealing what they can by rubbing it off of her cheeks? I think that the last thing I’d want to touch would be her face. Um, make that next to last. Yuck.
What Peepers doesn’t realize is that he was born to fulfill a completely different destiny- that of gay bestie. The guy you shop with, who’ll take you to the dance if you don’t have a date. The gay friend whom you tease mercilessly for being a wuss yet he still lets you cry on his shoulder after you get crabs from that perfectly nice boy with the Harley and the deee-luxe double wide.
I hope he wakes up one day, preferably soon.
There is one more conversation left between Daisy and London on the back terrace at sunset. It’s very pretty and romantic and London lies through his teeth. She lays down the law and he promises not to leave again, only he’s all shifty eyed and never looks straight at her. Wake up, Daisy. He’s a deceptive, manipulative jerk.
And a sad raccoon that smells like he’s been noshing in your garbage can for a week.
I hate to go all Seinfeld on you guys again but what is up with the dark circles under his eyes? Is he permanently hung over and sleep deprived from having to share his park bench with skid row bums? Or is his eyeliner collecting in his bags because he never washes it off, opting instead for the daily reapply? It’s gross so I just don’t get it when Daisy says that he makes her nervous and clumsy, he’s just soooo damn hot.
Fine with me, keep him around if it means I get to watch you fall on your face every week.
It’s elimination time again and a bunch of angry young men gather on the risers. Daisy has made London stand off to the side because he hasn’t been officially allowed back in the house. Yeah, right.
It’s because Flex’s fists don’t reach that far
She asks each of them in turn how they feel about London being back. Let’s interpret their answers, shall we?
Flex: “In order to be the best, you’ve got to beat the best.”
Translation: “I will be putting my foot so far up your ass you’ll be flossing with my shoelaces.”
Like he flosses. You gotta love his must-win attitude and Riki totally smiled when he said that. Gee, I wonder who he wants to have come out on top?
Peepers: “I’m just glad to be tackling this problem right now instead of the future.”
Translation: “Thank God there’s someone else to pick on now, and I can play with my Care Bears in peace.”
12 Pack: ” You wanna be with me, you’re gonna be with me. You wanna be with London, so be it.”
Translation: “I don’t give a flying fuck, I just signed the contract for 12 Pack of Love.”
And TT: “I fought my way to get here and I’m gonna keep on fighting until you kick me out of here.”
Translation: “Please don’t kick me out before Peepers, please, please!”
So now we know how they all feel, as if there was any doubt and Daisy turns to London. She tells him that because he walked out last time she doesn’t trust him and ultimately he doesn’t deserve a chain. The boys are doing backflips inside and planning out which cocktail to imbibe first when……rrrrriiip! Pull the needle off the record, holy smokes, she lets him stay.
Now the boys are all planning a slow, painful death for him and which cocktail to imbibe first.
London’s a happy camper. Free meals again, Kamchatka flowing like the mighty Mississippi and how much can you get for a Barbie Dream House on Ebay these days? He says that he hears angels singing but that was just Peepers on the other end of the risers imagining the first time London tops him. Alas, it’s not to be.
The Ambiguously Gay Duo are in the bottom two. She has to let one go and she’s oh-so-sorry that their relationship has suffered over their fight for her love, but the final battle in their divorce is almost complete.
Tamer vs. Lamer
She compliments Peepers on his loyalty and says goodbye, oh, and surprise, surprise. He cried ten times more when TT dissed him than when Daisy dumped him. You could tell that he made an effort to force some out but his tear duct only queefed a little.
“I’m Branden, Real Homosexual!”
Well, everbody, how do you feel now that the lying scumbag with daddy issues is back? You certainly know how I feel. It’s too bad this wasn’t filmed in New Jersey. I would love for Teresa to flip a table over on him and then gnaw on his bones like the Cro-Magnon she is. Or she could hit him over the head with an solid onyx guitar.
Love you, Yenta! And everybody else. What am I going to do with myself when this show is over?
Oh, that’s right. Regrow the lining of my stomach.
Love and kisses,