True Beauty: I Steal AIDS Bracelets

Nessie, explaining quantum physics to Nole.

This week, True Beauty, features Vanessa Hudgens, I mean Manillo, as a personality-less troll with some serious facial expressions and the kiddies get to give to cherity. And by charity, I mean someone besides Chelsea.

Welcome again to True Beauty, the show that brings fakeness, thinly veiled as beauty, into your life at an alarming speed. And friends, I’m not the only one who gets motion sick. Apparently, Chelsea gets sick of getting her ass almost kicked to the curb and looks like she’s about to puke…pretty much anyone ever interviews her.

OH, but I have the remedy- 33 mgs of MEGABITCH.

Yeah, a nice dose of egotism makes everyone feel better, right? Even Chelsea, who keeps up the “star quality” talk like she’s a broken record, when clearly, she’s more a “before” picture on a Proactiv Commercial. Blugggh. Why don’t people include “skin that doesn’t make me want to fucking cut my eyeballs out” as a criteria for being beautiful, inside and out?

And I LOVE that she runs out of things to say about herself at the end of the first interview after elimination. I would’ve never believed it if it hadn’t been on national television, follks.

And BTW, I ALSO LOVE how the other contestants clearly hope and think Man-Chelsea is the one eliminated. Particularly, Monique, because I think these transgendereds don’t like a crowd.

I’m the only one in this house with nuts that fit snugly in a pair of Burberry BIkini Bottoms. ARG!

LLL munches on Doritos and says “Beeeyotch.” Wow, I feel like I’m in high school, only with more bleached teeth and STDS than I remember ( And that’s hard to believe, considering I went to a public school). SO Chelsea comes strollin’ into the house, with her FashionBug red dress and everyone looks well…

Like Boy George?

Very pleased. If pleased means that someone just stuck cottage cheese into their underwear. Or, perhaps we’re making new discoveries, folks! Man-ique manages to make some half-assed comment about how Chelsea’s boobs look good in her dress, but everyone pretty much wants to skewwer her like the man-witch meat that she is. Even me! I usually root for the underdog, but this underdog…flares her nostrils a lot. And, has balls.

Paggie feels really bad that she put all her shit in the spaces Chelsea’s shit used to occupy, blah blah blah. Paggie? Come on. Let’s hear about your fucked up childhood more so than where your clothes are stored. I bet your mom pushed you too hard. I bet those cheekbones are implants. I want the shit, Paggie!

And True Beauty then delves right into some Paggie-Cheslea drama, surrounding a pair of citizen jeans. Paggie was missing them, Chelsea has ‘em. I know these beauties didn’t get a Ph.D. in super-sluttery like I did, but come on- Chelsea needs all the woman-help she can get. If I were Chelsea, I’d steal some duct-tape and push up bras from Man-ique, maybe some anti-frizz from, well, anyone, and some makeup remover from….wait- there isn’t makeup remover made on this planet strong enough for the make-under that Chelsea so desperately needs.

Chelsea: The Bitch, The man, the Kleptomaniac.

And I LOVE Chelsea’s excuse- “I usually wear a size 25, but I have a 27 because I can’t fit into a 25.” Wow, Chelsea, you should be a lawyer. Hey, you’d make a great lawyer with a skin condition, don’t you think?

Or, Quasimoto. Yes, I’m in career placement.

I like how when Chelsea gets pissed, her nostrils get extra flare-y and she talks slow.

The next day, as evidenced by the sun going down, moon coming up, and sun coming back up again over palm trees, Billy gives us an extra-dose of morning crazy by not shutting up about protein shakes, which I think is a euphamism for Cocaine from the eighties. Get it? Because Billy’s a coke-head. And, because he’s old! I’m hilarious.

Nessie, Nole and Tiegs all get to the spy room looking…overly made up.

NO, Really. I kill babies. For sport.

Nessie goes from the spy-cave to the mansion to tell the True Beauties that they have one hundred bucks to shop for some clothes on Melrose for a premiere. Yeah, a big Hollywood one. Um…it’s at…just, a club. I don’t know. Just shut up. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP (Nessie runs away and weeps). Sorry, I just went into italic-fantasy world.

Anyhow, Nessie actually encounters the beauties in the middle of what seems to be a very heated Play-Skool version of Tic Tac Toe.

You know, where the pieces are so big that you can’t choke on them?

Nessie doesn’t tell the beauties that they are going to be judged on their outfits and not on their charity. Wow, charity? Do these people even know what doing or giving to charity looks like? They’re probably going to see the person on the street and think it’s an outdoor restaurant, sit down, and order mimosas. Hell, I would. Fuck Charity!

In the meantime, Ashley’s fembot brain doesn’t understand how anyone could buy anything less than a bajillion bucks.

Does not compute. Does not compute.

Oh, and I forgot. Man-ique is wearing a wig. She says it’s her “alter-ego” which I’m assuming is code in Tranny-ese for “the thing that makes me feel least like a human being with nuts and a penis.”

SEE? RIGHT THERE: an Adam’s Apple!!!!

The Groups are: Man-ique, Billy and Joel, who are confident that their extreme good looks will get them free clothes (Jesus. Is that how it works?), CJ, Ashley and Chelsea who decide to make a fake charity to…scam people out of a couple dimes and pennies? I’m not exactly sure how this is going to work, but I have a better idea for this group: just get Chelsea to ask for money. Hell, if I saw that face on the streets, I’d barf, give her my wallet, barf again, and then run. Something tells me Ashley feels the same way…..

I’m playing connect the dots in my head….

I also love how CJ brilliantly calls this strategy charity name “How much does LA love its kids?” A modern poet, CJ is. THe last group is LLL, Paggie and Billy, who also think (and then do???) that they can get clothes for free. Okay- I know we’re in the midst of an economic crisis, but does it really warrant giving clothes away to semi-attractive people who have cameras following them? Billy does most of the frenzied, wide-eyed, coke-infused soliciting while LLL gives out free hugs!

Giving hugs to strange men is not unfamiliar to our Lovely Laura Lee.

They also get shoes for free….LLL takes the helm on this one, insisting that she’ll do anything to get the shoes, even show her “moneymakers.” Wow, for a second I thought I was talking to someone’s creepy dad, but then I looked back at the TV and it was 102 pound LLL. Weird. And speaking of “moneymakers,” they all pass the real challenge and give to that drab-looking P.A. posing as a charity worker in a sun hat.

Group two, CJ, Ashley and Chelsea go around using compellingly charitable arguments like “My dog has cancer” to get clothes from people to use for the challenge. Of course, Chelsea, aka Sasquatch, is all holier than thou and flares her nostrils in a sign of protest.

I’m puking as I write this.

GOD DAMN SOMEONE GET THIS BITCH OFF THE SHOW. I’m sick of looking at her disgusting face, her crispy hair and hearing her self-riteous blather. Still, I quickly forgot how horrible Chelsea was and how awesome Ashley was when ASHLEY TOOK SOME GUYS’ AIDS BRACELET. God, is Ashley’s last name Hitler? Mussolini? Dumb-ass? I don’t know, I just think it’s HIlarious!

Eventually, CJ gets tired of deception, but Ashley looks like she’s just getting started.

Hey Homeless people? Do you wanna help my dog cure cancer. Or, like, something? Gimme your shirt.

When they encounter the “plant,” only CJ gives some money for charity. Surprise surprise. The next group, too, has mixed results- though Man-ique gets free clothes and a dress that makes her look vaguely like a woman, she doesn’t give to charity and neither does Ray, just Billy McCokes-up-a-lot.

As they get dressed, everyone’s high-fiving and kudos-ing each other on their clothes. Except for Chelsea, whereas Ashley looks upon in disgust at her hideous grandma dress. Now, I’m pretty pro-Ashley after her taking that guy’s AIDS bracelet, so I agree. Ashley then decides to help Chelsea fix her dress (but what about her face???) to look semi-presentable for the club opening.

Yes. Stand still. Perfect. Gorgeous.

Then Billy, from Idaho, observes an obese gremlin for fashion inspiration. Yes, I’m taking about Nole Merin. I get that Idaho isn’t exactly fashion forward, but jesus…If I wanted bad facial hair and a physique like a Mr. Potato Head, I’d go to Nole. Blelt-strap-thing? Not so much.

Monamonzano, DON’T YOU DARE BADMOUTH NOLE.

Woah, sorry, my bad. Should’ve made my comment before he took that whole eightball. Anyhow, at the “Club Opening,” which is actually just a sounstage with some buckets for the contestants to stand on, the Beauties make their big debut.

Joel:

…Looks like your typical hollywood Douchebag.

Ashley…

Looks like your typical hollywood Douchebag.

Chelsea….

…looks like your typical middle-aged call girl with bad skin.

Ray…

…looks like your typical Gay Magician.

Man-ique…

…Do I even need to say?

CJ….

Is trapped in a Mark Twain novel.

Paggie…

Looks like a Mom at a PTA meeting.

LLL…

Looks like Paggie’s slutty daughter.

last but not least, Billy, bringing it home as…

Your garden-variety Hollywood Douchebag.

Am I sensing a pattern here, with slight, subtle and often slutty deviations? I think I am!

Paggie gets a 500,000 dollar price tag for her whole look, complete with Jizz from her son’s math teacher on her handbag. LLL got critiqued because of her lack of accessories and boldness. LLL gets a 100,000 dollar price tag. Joel gets a 750,000 dollar price tag and a free AIDS test at Out of the Closet. Billy’s colors weren’t complimentary, but he clinches the title with the ONE MILLION DOLLAR LOOK O’ DOUCHE and the 5,000 dollar shopping spree. Man-ique gets a 10,000 dollar price tag and a free bag of skittles while Ray gets a 10,000 dollar price tag and a white tiger. Ray gets one of the ten dollar look price tags, which means he’s up for elimination in the Hall of Beauty.

Ten dollars? What about the AIDS test?

Chelsea gets the 75 dollar tag, making her safe from elimination but not from her near-constant onslaught of zits. Ashley gets the other ten…

Malfunction. Malfunction. Malfunction.

They all get sushi and parade around the kitchen with it, while CJ asks Chelsea if she’s okay with the fact that Ashley’s fashion-forwardness saved her ass. Chelsea responds snarkily, I think because she has bigger things to worry about, like her impending skin disease.

I need salve. STAT.

As Man-ique and LLL snuggle, CJ decides to take this opportunity to…sign his name on the wall art (ugh) and get a kiss on the mouth from LLL. NOT! Just a joke. Geesh, nobody is hooking up yet. What gives? Of course, before the final decision the terrible three decide to further judge who is more horrible-er by making a bike messenger eat his shit on the sidewalk and see who helps.

Cheryl Tiegs, wondering who she should fire first- her agent or her stylist for putting a bloody period rag on her dress.

CJ helps the biker up, and then chides him a little for not being careful. Ashley, on the other hand, should join the army. Nothing phases this bitch!

Um, did I remember to feed my cancer dog before I left? Hmmm….

Inside the hall of beauty, Nessie looks like a mentally handicapped librarian.

I found a quarter in the stacks!!!!

They both get to plead their case, and Ashley says she’s the all American girl, and CJ conjures up some sob story about “Beauty being from within.” What? It’s like he….sort of….found the point of the show, but less articulate and more like “A young Harriet Tubman.” Uh oh, someone call a producer to tranquilize his ass.

The two, waiting with baited breath on the chopping block.

CJ gets to return and Ashley gets to look bored, er, I mean go home. Hey! Producer? Can someone flick her on switch? I think she’s out of batteries.

…

No, the show’s not just about inner beauty, but how one wears a bedsheet.

They show little Ashley-bot all the dirty shit she did, and she…well, she looks vaguely interested or like she just woke up from a nap. A long, slutty nap.

Bye bye, my sweet!

Ashton: Enriching lives, inside and out.

Well? what say y’all???