And he acts like he likes it! Also, where was the mother of all beat downs on Sullen? They lied! Eh, maybe it’s next week, I don’t know. What I do know is that they barely showed Conch Guy so I went back and trolled for some screen grabs from the first episode.
Here he is close up-
And here he is holding Champagne glasses-
I’m saving one more full body shot for next week, just in case they don’t show him again. Let’s hope that it doesn’t come down to that. I don’t want to have to hoard his gorgeous pictures like Girl Scout cookies.
Speaking of yummy snacks and deliciousness, I want to thank Pirouline strawberry rolled wafers and chocolate ice cream for getting me through this Summer of death and early Fall of desperate whores. I couldn’t have done it with out them. Or the Xanax. Or the Nyquil.
And don’t forget the wine!
He doesn’t. Oh, Baloney! Don’t be such a bad sport!
Drunk girls are happy girls! I am, anyway.
We left off last week with Melting Mama wanting to speak with Sullen. Oh, happy day. You could tell that she was dying to catch up and reminisce about the good old days when Sullen was gorging herself on Baloney’s barely legal peen.
Not to mention how happy Sullen is to tell her just how tasty his man juice was. Not that she knows first hand, mind you. Maybe Calvin Klein told her. But look at her face. Something tells me that this isn’t the first time she had this reaction to her mother in law, but there is something weird going on here. First Mama’s face, then Monique’s boobs and now this?
Melting must be contagious on this show.
She has every reason to dread this conversation. Mama sure knows how to bring the compliments. She tells her that she’s old news, makes everyone around her miserable and she’s not trustworthy. Poor Sullen turns on the waterworks for the umpteenth time and even that brings out the insults. Mama is all, “Yore cryeeng meens nutting to me, you owwwwnlee cry foryoresellfff.”
Glad to see that you’re working on that judgemental problem.
And with that she gets up and leaves. It’s fairly obvious that this woman is used to, no NEEDS to be in control. She doesn’t really listen because it is so much easier to analyse what someone says so you can criticize them for it later. Always on the offensive, this one, and I’m not just talking about her face here. Though, ugh. I’ve seen better looking mugs on the wooden Indian in front of the local Cigar Shoppe, AND with more expression.
Is anyone who is reading this from Italy? Is there any botox left in your country? Any dismissiveness either? Because it seems that she brought it all with her, unlike the compassion or the sunscreen. THAT you should have plenty of.
Here’s Sullen, looking her usual devil may care self, all by her lonesome at the dindin table. There’s a joke here but I almost feel bad for making one. Oh, what the hell. She should be thankful that she still has some of her looks left, unlike Mama Baloney.
At least you don’t look like you’re crying in a litter commercial.
Back in the suite, the girls are all crowded around their hero in their jammies, rapt like a bunch of eight year olds at Neverland to Baloney’s stories of sky diving and riding his Ducati at ridiculous speeds. It’s kind of, sort of completely eye roll worthy.
And Baloney is loving it.
I like to think that the TVgasm readers are a smart lot, not naive enough to fall for this braggadoccio. I understand that it’s difficult to have a conversation with more than a couple of people at a time but this is just stupid. However, it doesn’t last very long because Sullen comes waltzing in, all pissed and sloshing her wine around.
Dykey calls her “Negative Nancy” and asks her how she’s doin,’ with the tiniest trace of sarcasm. This is when Sullen asks Baloney to get her more wine and he tells her to get it her damn self.
What is wrong with her? You don’t interrupt the love-in admiration marathon! Baloney is justifiably pissed now. All he wanted was to bask in the glow of worshipping crones and Sullen is throwing the kibosh on it. He is truly angry so maybe he does have some unresolved feelings for her or maybe he actually did learn to act from his stint on a Soap Opera.
Boring Brooke follows Sullen into the kitchen only to find her dejectedly staring into an open refrigerator. What a cliche. Gobble some cheesecake if you need to or better yet, have some of Dykey’s cream cheese waffles. I hear that they’re all the rage with loonies.
She rattles on about the dressing down she got from Mean Mama and how she needs a guy to cater to her when she’s down in the dumps. THAT’S ALL THE TIME, honey! How is he supposed to tell? You probably freaking cry when the oven timer goes off or you realize that you’re out of clearasil.
That last bit wasn’t a joke, by the way. Her skin scares me. It’s bad enough that she is such a woeful ageing brute of a woman but to have the zits of a girl a third of her age has to make you want to say fuck it, and do something really stupid like sleep with Russel Brand.
Baloney should take note. When you are dealing with someone this close to the end of their rope, you better be sleeping with pepper spray under your pillow. Wait, this is a spurned woman we’re dealing with. Better make it a sawed-off shotgun and a halberd.
She rejoins the group and Baloney askes her if she’s crying again. Well, gee. What do you think?
OH MY GAWD!! THE MICROWAVE BEEPED!!!!! KILL ME NOW!!!
She should see a doctor. There has to be something wrong with her tear ducts. The last time I saw someone cry that much it was a Miniature Poodle named Opie and he was diagnosed with an actual disease, epiphora. Maybe she has something similar. The tears would get all crusty and smelly along his snout, maybe that’s why Baloney is so turned off by her. Not that I’m calling her a dog or anything.
She tells him to fuck off. Hilarious. So, he gets up to leave and she tries to apologize. I don’t know where to begin with how toxic this woman is. She’s Liza, Lindsay and Frances Farmer all rolled into one, without the fun and the happy pills.
Let’s take a break from her and enjoy the next morning’s activities. Baloney hasn’t showed off his Tom of Findland (minus the huge bulge) physique in a while so he sets up a workout for the girls.
They run around in circles, which I take as a metaphor for VH1 programming as a whole, do some kind of push-up wheelbarrow move and then a buttscooting ab excercise that looks like my dog cleaning her dingleberries off on the living room carpet.
Dykey is outstanding at this and she is really enjoying herself, not least of all because she gets to stare at Monique’s butt under the guise of excercising.
“The last part of this excercise involves me doing push-ups over your crotch. Baloney said so, I swear!”
The last task involves making your way across a rope without having your feet touch the ground. The trick to it is getting a side to side swing going to propel your body. Not that anyone is paying attention here, not with such an Olympian speciman to stare at. He’s in amazing shape, like a modern day Tarzan.
Who prefers Cheeta to Jane.
To reward them for their endeavors, out comes the slip-n-slide. To reward my trio of straight male readers, here is Playmate Gretchen riding her silicone globes down that shiny piece of plastic, mouth wiiiide open.
Because normally there’s some yummy 80 year old peen waiting for her at the bottom.
There’s a playful shot of Boring Brooke and Baloney spraying each other with a garden hose and then the humunculus known as Sullen decides to heave her graceful body down the slip-n-slide. She gets an owie on her head and Baloney jokes that she’ll be fine since she doesn’t use it much.
Unlike your asshole, you prick.
That over, he tells all the wet bitches to get their asses up to the suite and write him a love letter. That makes sense. Write a love letter, pouring your heart out to a guy who not only humiliates you every chance he gets, but who you’ve only known a couple of days. Easy, right?
Not for Boring Brooke. She sucks at it because she decides to keep it real and be herself. She might as well have picked up a dustmop and shaken the dustbunnies into an envelope to give to him.
Dykey laughs at her and Mirandacure reverts to how she wrote to Bobby or Jimmy in Junior High. Rhyming worked back then so it’ll work now, right? Only it’s hard to find words to rhyme with ‘cuticle cream,’ so she sticks with the topic at hand.
“What rhymes with repressed homosexual?”
I could think of a few things. Anyhoodle, Bambi writes that she has loved Baloney since she was twelve and has even been saving herself for him. I got news for you, baby.
You can put that cherry in cold storage for a little bit longer.
Monique is boring and sincere-ish and I love Tania’s handwriting.
With extra fancy ‘Ds’ for extra fancy Desperation.
Gretchen sounds like a bad romance novel which she reads aloud, following the words with her klassy gold glitter nail tips, and Sullen doesn’t write anything at all.
Did you run out of tears to write with?
Baloney reads them with a smile of pure sincerity on his face and the asks them to join him in a little park by the ocean at sunset. Oh, and he’s sitting on Buddha’s knee.
Nothing says spiritual like phony love letters written to closeted douchebags.
He asks Sullen why she didn’t write a letter to him and I’ll spare you the love/chance/getting to know you as a grown-up crap. I have to sit through it so why should you?
He picks Tania, Bambi and Gretchen as the top letter writers and makes them read theirs aloud. Bambi stays true to her name and sounds all sweet and innocent, and then Gretchen pulls out all the stops and chokes herself up while reading her drivel.
Here is another case of Soap Opera acting coming in handy. She says, “I would walk mountains for you,” and “I want your happiness more than my own,” and he gets so teared up that he has to turn his back and take a moment.
To keep from throwing up.
Who knows, maybe he really was moved to tears. He grew up memorizing this kind of pablum on GH so perhaps it’s all he is familiar with as far as heterosexual love goes. After all, the love that dare not speak it’s name only needs a wink and a grab on a sweaty nightclub dancefloor, none of this wooing garbage, unless you’re into that sort of thing. In which case you a big cock will get you a lot farther than hiking mountains or being unselfish, or so I’ve heard.
It’s Tania’s turn and she made some stupid metaphor of having a rusty pussy, I mean heart, and she even put a damn key to it in the envelope. How Claire’s Boutique of her.
“How sweet of you! But next time a gift certificate to boyzshop.com would be nice.”
In the end, Bambi gets nothing, Tania gets to go to dinner with Baloney and Gretchen gets the whole next day with him. Poor Bambi, you’d have better luck losing your virginity at a Jonas Brothers’ concert, but look on the bright side. You still look very young so maybe Gary Glitter will call when he’s done going through all the 11 year olds in Thailand.
At dinner he compliments Tania’s originality with the key and she tells him that she’s the happiest she has ever been and the sparks are positively flying off of the two of them like mud off of a shaking pig, and just as sexy. That’s right, not so much. The sushi looked pretty good, though, and he digs right into it so Baloney doesn’t completely hate fishy things.
Gretchen gets all purdied up for her date the next day which Baloney announces will be on a boat- right in front of Sullen! Does he want to send her to back to Silver Hill so she can talk to the ghost of Edie Sedgewick again? Actually, that is sounding like fun right about now. They could share valium and stories about being used by famous men.
Sullen stalks back to her room, all pissed and making fun of gretchen and her huge cantaloupe boobies. That reminds me. I’m kinda hungry and I’ve got some melon in the fridge. Be right back. No big deal, we’re not missing anything. Sullen will still be just as crazy when I’m done.
And straighten up your damn rooms, harpies!
That alone would drive me nuts about living with a gaggle of hags, tripping over their g-strings and tubes of Monistat. I guess that it’s better than being stuck with a bunch of guys. There’s no vomit to worry about stepping in, at least not yet.
There is vomit to worry about in my throat. Yay. Our first nasty kiss of the show with fish/duck/balloon lips Gretchen.
I’m glad to see that he removed the hook first.
What is it like to kiss someone with artificial lips? I would imagine that it’s worse than feeling up fake boobies or ass implants. It’s all good for Baloney, though. he just pretends they’re ass lips.
Meanwhile, Sullen is putting her big plan into action and it involves sneaking out of the suite with sunglasses on (oh so incognito!) and hopping on a jetski with one of the locals. She should have kept the guy who drove her to the boat and dropped all pretense of landing Baloney again. It’s a lost cause. Just look at the name of the boat, for Chrissakes!
There’s no ‘I’ in ‘male!’ There is in penis, tho. And twink, and cock ring, and nipple clamp, and….
Speaking of nipples…Gretchen’s pops out of her bikini top. Oopsy! How did that happen?
And surprise! He doesn’t notice.
Good God, boy! Any normal dude would be munching on that thing in a nanosecond. Hell, even some gay guys I know would! Whatever, they finish their kissy-kissy grossness and turn to the Champagne and Costco fruit tray just in time for Sullen to sneak up on them.
“Excuse me, I was looking for my self respect. have you seen any around here lately?”
Sullen asks Gretchen “Woman to woman, mom to mom,” if she can have ten minutes with Baloney. Why ten minutes? She must have this grovelling down to a science. Anyhoo, Gretchen lets her have her time with the object of her irrational obsession and yes, it’s the same old crap. Once again, I’ll spare you.
It’s funny, though. Before Sullen leaves the boat, she turns back just in time to see Baloney and Gretchen kiss.
Geez, let her die already!
No, she doesn’t throw herself into the sea to drown, any more than Baloney did in the first episode. But don’t give up hope just yet. Maybe, eventually someone will get it right.
Gretchen goes back to the suite to get ready for dinner with the rest of the girls, and she brags about how Baloney didn’t hurl when he kissed her. She also informs everyone that Sullen was super naughty and interrupted their date. Cue the outrage! Ehhhh, not so much. I was waiting and waiting and nothing. No beat down. I set my tasers to YESSSSS! And they ended up on Meh. Color me disappointed, and dejected. Aaaaaaand…….I’m lying. I could give a shit.
At dindin, there is no dindin. I’m guessing that the whores took too long to get ready and Mama got tired of waiting and already ate her meal of virgin blood and kitten embryos. So, we head straight to the lamely named “just desserts.”
The two gals with no leis under their dish covers are Sullen and Monique. I had a feeling that he would put one of the “under the radar” girls in the bottom two. I honestly do not remember what Monique said, that’s how memorable it was. I’m sorry. I’m sure that she’s a nice person and all, I just didn’t pay attention.
Push them both into the water. No one will notice.
I tell you what. I’ll pay attention to bores when they start buying me bottles of wine. Done. Deal. Not that i’m holding my breath here. I’ll have quit drinking before that happens.
Baloney asks Sullen how she would feel if a date she was on with him were interrupted by one of the girls. Ha! Like that’s going to happen! The date, that is. She doesn’t answer the question, she just tries to explain why she did it. She needed time with him, blah blah, ad infinitum.
What Sullen does do is say, “I love you.” That snapped him back to attention.
“If I cry enough, will you pity fuck me?”
In the end he keeps her around to insure that the drama will be there next week, so we say goodbye to Monique and her “one chance at happiness.” Shouldn’t she be killing herself now? Joining a nunnery? Nope, not so much. I did see the way she was hugging Dykey goodbye. That minx! She was here to meet girls! Party on, lipstick lesbian. It’s all good.
It’s even better because Melting Mama is not happy! Baloney let the bitch stay again! What’s a controlling husk of a human being to do?
I’m glad you asked. She gets someone to do her dirty work for her.
Fish Lips Gretchen falls into her trap. She thinks that the producers let her talk to Mama so that she could explain to her that girls that pose for Playboy are NOT WHORES. Mama waves off her excuses with one simple question: “Will you whack Sullen for me?”
Okay, she just asked her to get rid of her. Poor, stupid Gretchen says yes. We have the growing, evil smile this time, as opposed to the falling face that started this episode.
The thing is, once she does Mama’s bidding, what’s to stop the bitch from telling her that she’s all wrong for Baloney because of her cootchie flashing past? Nothing. So go ahead and screw yourself. I’ll be eating popcorn.
Love and Kisses,