My friend Kelley recently taught me a drink recipe she learned in Texas. Basically, you just add V8 juice and pepper to beer and pour over ice. Now, you may think, Ew, my seven vegetables a day and beer? Nasty! You look at it and it’s this weird orange color, with little bits floating in it. Gross. But you take a sip of it, and it’s not bad. In fact, you drink the whole glass. And by the next day, you’re craving it just before you turn on the CW. To me, this is similar to the trajectory of Melissa R.’s career (except for the pepper bits), and tonight this theory was proven even further, as after weeks of hating her just like the others, I kind of sort of started to root for her. I relaxed into my easy chair with my bloody beer and flipped on the old boob tube, rolling my eyes at the painful slo-mo preview for next week’s “Gilmore Girls” and watched the Mark McGrath-narrated recap of last week’s devastating episode. I still got a little misty-eyed when my girl Anastacia came on. What the fuck, man? Why did she have to go? My love still burns for her and in my mind, she IS the next Pussycat Doll.
But anyway, the opening credits roll (which I never get sick of seeing, by the way. It’s the perfect mix of hot, catchy and ridiculous. Well done, editors. Well done.) and each girl is feeling low. Come on, little kitties, buck up! You’re in the top four! That’s gotta mean something. But they all feel they need to step it up. I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with that point. I would say Chelsea needs to pop her butt more, Melissa R. needs to crank up the sex appeal, Melissa S. needs to stop being an angelic bitch, and Asia needs to close her goddamn mouth when she’s not using it. And stop doing that fucking finger thing with the mic. God.
Guess Melissa S. had one too many bloody beers.
So what are four bummed girls to do to make themselves feel better? Well, for Melissa S., the answer is gang up on somebody else. She begins hassling Chelsea about her less-than-stellar dancing abilities, and says, “You were on a SWING, for God’s sake.” This puts the rage in Chelsea, much in the same way that her comments to Anastacia last week about NOT BEING FAT set Anastacia afire with anger (which I still don’t understand) and she quietly seethes with fury, staring at Melissa and plotting her doom. I’m right there with her. Perhaps it will be a slow death, I think. A hanging by purple boa.
Pussy Mail informs them that there’s more to being a PCD than dancing and singing. Really, I think? Are you sure? Because, aside from the lead singer, I’m pretty sure the other girls are just backup dancers. Anyway, this week’s theme is public relations. Fantastic! Yet another ANTM theme knockoff. I hope there’s gonna be a Jann Carl interview! Now THERE’S a woman who knows how to use Botox.
They’ve gotta get ride of that shiny object just off-camera.
In the studio, Robin tells them there’s gonna be 2 performances this week: one group dance performance, and one solo ballad each. Um, if I’m not mistaken, that IS all singing and dancing, am I wrong? But whatever, as she assigns who will be singing what, we hear a little riff from each song announced, just in case you didn’t know what they all sounded like.
At rehearsals, Robin teaches them the choreography with her tightly preserved 70-year-old body and when she starts popping, I think I’m gonna take my cues from the first episode and just go ahead and hurl. Where, oh WHERE do you get all your formaldehyde, Robin? Do tell!
Alright, where’s my bucket?
Chelsea cannot pop to save her life, and I cannot think of any other word to describe the action taking place her other than popping to save my life. Chelsea cannot slam her ass back and forth as though it’s an illegal weapon to save her life. Bitchy Miss Mikey yells at her, as usual, and I think, Oh God, our little Chelsea is going down. I mean, I can really see how unless she begins slamming it like she means business, she would not really fit into the Pussies’ Den with the rest of the drag queens. Melissa S. relishes in this fact, gloatingly wondering how the hell Chelsea is still in this competition. Well, maybe it’s because she’s FUCKING ADORABLE and she can sing worth a damn and putting eye liner on her doesn’t make her look like my Uncle Ethel, MELISSA. Step off!
As Chelsea wisely admits that she has no one to blame or to count on but herself, we cut to Melissa R. sucking donkey balls in her vocal rehearsal with Beasely. Melissa S. is up next and she is even worse, not because she’s off-key but because she sounds like a 10-year-old singing along to the radio in her bedroom. Nasally, whispery, childish, annoying. They should have just gotten Britney Spears in there, at least she looks good in makeup. As Asia begins her rehearsal traveling through the octaves of one fucking syllable, I realize that yes, this week will be a stretch for each girl, no matter what strengths she possesses. I just pray that Chelsea can push her ass out far enough to satisfy the judges. You can take that one any way you want.
Hunter S. Thompson made it out tonight just to teach singing.
“Hey Hunter, whattaya say we blow this joint and go have a beach party?”
In the dance studio, Asia gives in to her motherly, nurturing side and begrudgingly helps Chelsea learn her steps. If I were Chelsea, I’d be moving my butt and chest back and forth in opposing directions in my goddamn sleep. She seems to want to work this hard, and luckily Asia is dropping some of that Yerk Knicks knowledge on her. Meanwhile, Melissa S. is shocked, SHOCKED that someone would help that china doll with her dancing. “I am NEVER helping her,” she pronounces, then gives a devilish, maniacal laugh, rubbing her hands together.
“Just make sure you keep your mouth agape at all times.”
After another lame non-break narrated by Mark McGrath, Robin informs the Pussy Hopefuls that their mini-Challenge for this week is to go on a “whirlwind promotional tour” and I really hope it’s sponsored by some fabulous product aimed at women between the ages of 13-25. Robin needs to find out who can handle herself under the pressures of a media tour. Asia worries that this is not her strong suit. I wholeheartedly agree.
I wonder why.
There is no immunity granted for the winner, but seriously? Robin totally knows that the winner is gonna dig the prize, no doubt. I just hope that Jann Carl asks them which of the other girls they hate. That’s just classic Ken Mok.
First they get to do a commercial for Secret Scent Expressions. As the director explains in a totally natural cadence, “It’s a new collection of invisible solids, clear gels, and body sprays.” Wow, it sounds so cool! I think I should buy some RIGHT NOW. He says they need to memorize the script and make up an ad lib that sells it just like a Pussycat Doll would. Yeah, I’m so sure the Pussies would stoop to peddling deodorant. Come on, we all know they sell vagina juice, not any other kind of fragrant amorphous solid.
Melissa R. is not even worried. She’s got it in the bag. “As long as I keep repeating it, it becomes second nature to me,” she says right before she goes on set and fucks it all up. I feel bad watching her, because truthfully, she never did anything to piss me off, never even really acted like a moron, and now that she’s got that deer-in-the-headlights look, I just want her to do okay. I dunno. Something about her mental breakdown last week made me like her.
Melissa S. is up next and I hope she gets kicked off just because I hate having to clarify which fucking Melissa I’m talking about. Oh, and also because she’s an evil, evil bitch. “Um, I actually did an Axe Body Spray commercial, and some cheerleading commercials,” she explains, as though doing any of that will make her a decent actress. As decent as Nicole Sherzingspankme. As soon as she says that, we cut to her fucking up every line while holding the following pose:
Totally natural, totally subtle.
And yes, she definitely DOES sound like a cheerleader while delivering lines. She moves her shoulders in time with the syllables, and her voice sounds like she could be the lead in some kind of little schoolgirl porno.
Chelsea finds all of Mel’s mistakes just de-li-cious. She sighs as though she’s got this one in the bag. However, during her turn, we get the wacky suck-ass music, so of course she too chokes like a hooker with a sore throat. Although I have to say, at least when she messes up a line, she does so gracefully and articulately.
Melissa S. beams with delight until the director suggests Chelsea sing the lines. Of course she nails it then. Wah wah, Melissa.
Miss Mikey’s biggest competition
Next, Asia thinks she’s going to totally blow, and I’m pretty sure she will too, considering her very loose grasp of the English language and inability to make her lips meet. But perhaps all of those nerves made her practice more, because she’s the only one who doesn’t fuck up royally. She’s no Meryl Streep, but she can spit out the words.
They do a quick photo shoot and it occurs to me that maybe Asia would have made a much more likeable Pussy if we had never had the chance to see how annoying she is as a person; if we only saw her dance and pose in photos, would we like her? Well, most likely not as much as Anastacia, but maybe.
During the shoot, Chelsea and Melissa S. get tired and I automatically declare that it will probably be down to those two tonight. “I’m so tired; what could possibly be next?” Melissa S. foolishly wonders aloud. I’ll tell you. An interview with the dapper and darling Mark McGrath!
What do horses eat? Hay. What do gay horses eat, Mark? “Haayyyyyyy!”
Well, he’s no Jann Carl, but I suppose he’ll do. He is a correspondent for “Extra,” after all. In their interviews, Asia plays the Baby Card. No surprise there. She’s a fighter, she perseveres, she’s a role model, blahbitty blah blah blah. Melissa R. and Chelsea are both pretty poised as well. Then Train Wreck She-Devil Melissa S. gets up there and lays it all on the line. She’s bubbly, as usual, and seems sweet and innocent as she typically does.
Mark: What do you have to offer the Pussycats?
Mel S.: Oh, God, Mark, besides my assets?…. (thrusts out butt)
Mark (as Fratboy): Hahahahahahah
But when Marky Mark asks her who should be the next to go home (did I call that one or what?), she coyly replies, “I’d have to say Chelsea.” Ohhhhkayyyyyy… not very diplomatic, sweetie. Has she seen one of these shows ever EVAR? You should say NOTHING. Say, “Oh, I love them all, I wish we all could be delicious Pussies together,” even if you don’t mean it, even if you fake-wrestle one of the girls every night to get your aggression out, you MUST fake the sweetness. She shoulda known that part.
“You could have kept me there for hours, I would have said nothing, because I think we all deserve to be here,” Chelsea says. A much more appropriate answer than the one I came up with above.
Melissa tears down Chelss’ dancing. “You can’t be giving it, you know, like, some half-assed performance,” she sneers. Cut to Chelsea, who actually cracks her knuckles angrily. Yes, I think. BITCH FIGHT!
Robin, what does the Pussy say?
Melissa, returning to the control room, wants to kiss and make up with Chelsea. Psssh, yeah right. Chelsea chooses to bitch-slap her instead. With her words, that is! “I would have never turned you under the gun like that,” she says, and scoots away when Melissa tries to sit next to her. Ooooh, the Scoot: the ultimate Fuck-You.
Well, really, who HASN’T gotten a lapdance from their girlfriends?
Robin reminds them that there’s a fab prize at stake, and Asia won it. Sigh, well I guess I can see that. She IS the only one who made it through her Secret Scent Expressions – on sale now at your local drugstore! – commercial shoot. And she did bring up overcoming Baby Mama Drama in her interview. Fine, I approve. Her prize is that they will actually run her spot on the air. At least on the CW. Right after this show. Just this once.
Asia doesn’t even care that much that a commercial she’s in will run nationally, she’s just proud that she overcame something she knew she was bad at. Oh, alright… I’m kind of starting to like her. But only a little. And I’ll never fully give into it until Chelsea is eliminated, which very well might happen here tonight, it seems.
Speaking of which, back at the Pussy Ranch, Chelsea rehearses with Beasely and Eric Dawkins, and the editors cleverly intercut her with footage of Melissa S. practicing her dancing skillz. See the contrast there?
In their final dance rehearsal, Chelsea seems to be doing a better job, or at least trying harder, but Mikey completely hates her. He makes her watch all the other girls pop it out. He even gives high-fives and “good job”s to each girl except Chelsea, and leaves her hanging. What a bitch! What is this, ninth grade cheerleading practice? Like John Stossel would say, give me a break.
“C is for….”
I watch the other girls doing their slamming thang and I think, well… yeah, you pretty much have to be an athlete to do that shit. “I’m gonna work… I’m gonna do it till I break every bone in my body… I’m a fighter, I want this too bad to give it up,” Chelsea weakly proclaims. Poor little lamb.
“O Holy Pussy Pole, give me the strength to out-pop these bitches.”
During the commercial break, they show Asia’s spot and it’s pretty much pathetic. I wonder why it’s such a big deal to have this 30-second ad run on national television when we get to see a whole hour of her every week?
Scores is losing a lot of business without this one.
At the Pussy Lounge, I hope against all hope that Melissa S. gets ousted instead of Chelsea, but I know it’ll be a tough one for our Solomon-like judges. Speaking of whom, I have to say I love the way Mark McG. refers to Li’l Kim as his “good friend.” I have a feeling he’s trying to line up future shitty gigs featuring bad puns. By the way, lamest outfits ever, no?
During the performance of “Beep,” everybody does pretty well and even Chelsea keeps up with the other girls. No sex swings necessary. The judges all point out which dancer they liked the best, and Ron Fair chooses Asia. Wha-? That’s weird. I thought they were mortal enemies.
Melissa S. begins her performance of a Norah Jones song by sauntering downstage like a cat that just knocked over a vase in the living room and is trying to distract you with its sweetness. I hate her. I’ll tell you what, she can’t hold a candle to Norah Jones. It’s a sweet and sad song, and she still makes it sound sexy. When she sings “I don’t know why I didn’t come,” I scream at the TV, “Then tell him to fuck you harder!”
Asia’s performance brings a surprise. She’s not terrible. I, quite frankly, am taken aback. I mean, she still does the finger bang, but she hits the notes, doesn’t go nuts, and even Ron says, “She was honest, she was fearless, it was really well done.” Wha-wha-wha-??? Ron Fair likes Asia’s voice? What is this world coming to?
Okay, STOP with the leopard print, you guys. That’s enough!
Got that, Kimmy?
Melissa R. is next. How adorable is she??
She puts the “O” in Doll.
She’s got cute hat and everything. She really works the crowd, stepping into the audience area to serenade them, wailing about her pain with a lovely, aching voice. She’s engaging and actually original. I’m delighted. She belts it out, not a trace of annoyingness or chintziness or cheesiness and I suddenly remember how much I love that song and promptly download it. I suddenly totally adore Melissa R. The crowd goes wild and the judges splooge in their pants.
Now I’ve gotta interrupt this recap for just one little thing. I noticed during Melissa’s routine some familiar faces.
Do you recognize them from previous recaps?
From Week 5
From Week 4
I know the producers probably don’t have a lot of money and all, but did you really have so few shots over the course of the season that you had to repeat the same crowd shots, in some cases even the exact same angle? I mean, it’s not even like they came on different days. Same outfits and everything. You couldn’t switch around their positions even? I thought for a second that that first screengrab was from the other recap, but no. Sigh. So that kind of “took me out of the moment,” as Queen Robin would say.
Chelsea comes up and does her thang, which apparently includes being naked on stage.
She cranks up the sex appeal, caressing herself on her silver throne and stroking the arm of it upon singing the word “touch.”
Hope Daddy’s not watching.
However, overall I kind of thought her performance was a bit lacking. Now, you know and I know how much I love Chelsea, but this particular rendition just didn’t do it for me. It just wasn’t interesting.
Robin says how much she loves Chelsea’s image, and Ron counters with, “Yeah, but what’d you think about the singing?” Robin scoffs and shoots back, “No, but, image is really important to me. Like, it IS.”
Yeah, WE KNOW.
Unfortunately for Chelss, Ron Fair was actually the producer of that very song, so he can’t praise her as much as, say, Christina Aguilera.
Before the break, the Pussy Hopefuls muse on their chances of staying or going, and baby genius Melissa S. whines, “If I’m eliminated, that’s gonna really suck.” Someone give this girl a Pulitzer.
We return to Robin announcing that this is the hardest week; “It’s not gonna get any harder than this.” At least until next week, when you actually have to choose a winner. They get all atwitter over Melissa R. and I definitely agree with them. Just hire her right now.
They move on to Asia.
Ron: “When you put the pressure on her, she comes up with the goods.” HUH?! Didn’t you want to eliminate her last week? I agree that she did well this week, but that doesn’t mean she’s always done well.
On Melissa S., they don’t love her. Ron Fair, in her defense: “She’s got that sexy, Vegas-y, white-trashy thing that’s really working for me.” One word: EWWW. Double EW, Ron. Get out of my house.
However, they also are on the fence about Chelsea. SEND MELISSA HOME, I mentally command them. NOW.
“Kumbaya, my Lord…”
It comes down to… bum-bum-BUM! Chelsea and Melissa S. I’m a reality TV psychic. Robin calls Melissa’s name and I scream, “NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!” at the TV, until I realize she accompanied her name by saying, “it’s time to hang up your boa.” Then I cry, “YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” My mental powers prevail! I only regret that I didn’t use them more mightily during Anastacia’s elimination round.
Making out in three… two… one…
Chelsea collapses into a sobbing heap of cuteness. For some reason, when she cries it’s not as annoying as when Melissa S. cries. I really feel for her. But maybe that’s just because I have a big ol’ girlie crush on Chelsea. In any case, I’ve gotta say to Melissa S., “G’Bye, LOSER!”
She wasn’t good enough for Danity Kane and she sure as hell isn’t good enough for the Pussies of the World. I’m glad to have the final three that we have, although I admit I wish Asia was replaced by that other A-named girl. I think we all know whom I’m talking about.
Next week’s season finale looks promising: night-vision catfights, a “Lady Marmalade” cover (I think we all saw that one coming), and of course, a little bit o’ Nicole Scherzingseasonfinale. I’m putting my money on Melissa R., simply because at this point I think she’s got more talent to work with than Chelsea. I hope y’all agree with me. I’ve got a cocktail to make. See you on the boards!
Someone MUST destroy the hat designer for this show. Honestly.