Oh my dear fierceling fashionistas, it is with a heavy heart that I sit down to write this final recap. Or maybe that's just the pizza and beer I've just inhaled. Gimme a second, here... *urp* Okay, I feel better now. It's just so hard to believe that only 3 short months ago we were all excited and gathered together to watch this latest crop of anemic airheads attempting to become the next Diva Deity™ to follow in the footsteps of The Goddess Of Fierce herself. It's equally hard to believe that we all got handed a big bucket of blah. I find myself heavily sympathizing with Teyomboy's expression in this picture...

..."Arright, which one of y'all bitches just cut one?"...
...like a fart in a jar, this cycle seems to have spun completely out-of-control, yet had almost zero impact... other than the lingering stench of stupidity I have felt weekly while watching Tyra overact, Sex-God smirk and sneer, Gay-Jay mince about, Porizkunty insult everybody and Miss J.'s silly bow-ties continue to grow like colorful labia with a bad case of elephantiasis. Do you remember a time when America's Next Top Model actually had some credibility as a serious modelling competition? Me either. Still, won't you take my chubby fat-fingered hand and for one last time let's make the jump...
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