By Nite Writer P. Funk
Don’t you get it, creators of I Love New York. America wants fighting. They want feces. Maybe perhaps a fight involving feces. They desire humiliating nudity. They seek sloppy soft core porn. And they long for slow motion hock a loogies. Were these not the reasons for our devotion to Flavor of Love?Oh how this show continues to disappoint me. There, I said it. I’m sorry, but I only speak the truth. I don’t know who the producers are, but they apparently didn’t get the memo on brilliant reality television. If they did, then they would see the potential this show has to be an epic reality masterpiece. It’s capability exceeds that of any other VH1 show or, dare I say it, any other reality show period. I mean, don’t you agree that this show should shine like the cubic zarconias in Tango’s ears. Let’s consider it’s H.T.V. (high trash value) for a moment. Half of the house consists of homosexuals. The other half is comprised of mentally unstable individuals who have sex with their dogs and drink live bees. The first episode introduced us to a circus freak show with New York as the ringmaster. What an unbelievable set-up! Then, the build up to nothing began. If I were a dude, I would be in immense pain right now with the worst case of blue balls. The producers showed just enough to stimulate me, but then left me, only to relieve myself with a cold shower.
To prove my point, I show you build up #1: New York, Sister Patterson, and Omarosa in the boardroom. How excited did everyone seem (via blogs) when we were shown Omarosa’s upcoming cameo. It felt almost as good as a snow day. Remember when you would be awoken by a phone call at 5 a.m. that said, “School is cancelled today.” It was like that, but instead of no school, the three biggest reality bitches are together. Clearly, this didn’t live up to its hype. Cold shower time. I guess deep down I was hoping for a cat fight between New York and Omarosa. That’s like the Nadal/ Federer match times 50. I guess I should just give up on my hopes for a fight in this show.
Enter build up #2. While preparing for The Biggest Potential Earner Challenge, the boys built their resumes on computers. Those that have never been privvy to such technology opted for poster-board and crayons.
Like Chance says when he refers to himself in the third person, “Chance don’t make resumes.” 12 Pack spent time and effort on coloring a bar graph of his earnings, but Pootie decided to take it and use it as his own. If 12 Pack really had a 12 pack, he would have punched Pootie in the baby maker (I say baby maker because Pootie later prooves what a vagina he is). However, that’s not what he did. Instead, he acted like a 12 year old and begged Pootie for his bar graph back. Cold shower time.
Build up #3. We watch Pootie freak out in tears, as he rolls down a staircase, screaming like a little girl. We then hear the sirens of the ambulance and automatically think shit’s going to go down. Will there be blood? No. Will Pootie get strapped into a strecher? No. How about an I.V.? No. All we get is the same Pootie who simply tells the rest of the guys to give him air when he needs it. Cold shower? Yes.
Build up #4. In the cab ride back from The Biggest Potential Earner Challenge, a fight ALMOST broke out between Whiteboy and Tango when Whiteboy accused Tango of adding fuel to Pootie’s fire. Guess what producers? Almost is not good enough for America. Cold shower it is.
Build up #5. Pootie loses the competition and must go on a date with Sister Patterson. The entire time he is shaking like Romance’s dog right before she died. Maybe he should have reconsidered ordering soup if he had the shakes. He is obviously a freak and, therefore, should do something freakish. Nope! Instead he decides to bow out of the game and leave. I feel bad for the P.A. who had to drive him home. What a waste of a good character! Chance said is best when he said, “Dang Pootie.”
Build up #6. The BBQ began on a high note with Mr. Boston’s lapdance. What a smooth dude. New York was getting off so she decided to take a little trip to Boston. This trip blew, as all we saw was a smooch and some awkward stomach kissing. We get to see a little more between New York and Tango, when he offers to give her a massage. She bends over only to reveal an “insert here” sign. Not really, but let’s pretend. She fake orgasms and yells “I’m coming.” We then get to watch New York interact with Chance. They role play where Chance gets to play a raft and New York gets to play a lifeguard.
60 minutes has passed, as well as 6 cases of blue balls. Nine contestants continue to the next round without Bonez and T Weed, who both happen to share the name Kevin. Bonez was boring and T Weed was a liar (he did get points for working at Munchies Pizza), so get the F up out of New York’s house.
As always, next week’s episode looks good, but let’s see how many cases of blue balls I would get if I were a dude.