Jerky-esque Janice finds new poor, dumb models to add the the parade of weirdness at The Janice Dickenson Modeling Agency (the pretend agency, but also the show) starting with Hazuki Kato (she's from Ireland! Kidding! I'm dumb.). But seriously, Janice LOOOOVES Japan. Yeah, so do I. I also take pictures of Japanese women on the weekends, for my "agency." What?

You're hired. I love Cashew Chicken and Big Trouble in Little China.

Then there's Martin Richie, the deaf guy from Texas. Geez, what, are we on Top Model? Next thing I know Janice'll be housing trannies and (gasp) plus sized models...or at least someone with a learning disability. You just don't see Dyspraxia represented enough on TV these days.

Mia Fields, another newbie, is the whitest black person ever and Xian Mikol looks like a white chick, but what's with her name? I bet her real name is like, Brittany or Clarissa or something, and she works at a mall. Whatevs. Chandler Maness looks like he has fetal alcohol syndrome. For REAL. I'm not even joking. I want to put away my bottle of Jack that I sip while I write this and cry a little (but only a little).

A little grooming goes a long way.

In the end, Janice chose 7 poor bastards to come on her wild horrorshow fashion bangin' boat ride from hell. Then the show goes into a tasteful little montage that explains the "bright idea" she got about having most of the models live in a house with her, and running the agency out of said house. Brilliant, Janice. I'll call it the "Model Corral." Yay! I, too, run a business out of my home. But it has less to do with modeling and more to do with moonshine, the homeless and my bathtub.

So, Janice "Beef jerky blow-up doll" Dickenson finds a chic house to rent for her agency headquarters. The house features lots of white upholstery, a boat in a pool (which seems a little impractical to me, but whatever, I'm not a seaman) and an ill-decorated master bedroom. So Janice does what any fun-loving semi-psychotic who needs ratings would do: Call Madonna's brother to fix that shit UP. Hey, I get it, there aren't enough gay decorators on T.V. yet- give Madonna's brother Chris Chiccone a shot. I mean, he's already famous, but is he feisty enough ? The answer is no. I mean, Janice couldn't even PAY him for his work? Is this guy that desperate? Call your sister for a fifty, why dontcha? But it turned out okay, cause not only did Janice get a nice pretty new home for her crazy, she got her own monitoring/security booth so she could patrol the goings-on in the house. Is this necessary? It already seems like Janice Dickenson has little tvs in her head where she sees all her pretty models' faces and knows what's going on with them and their heads n' bodies and stuff.

Someone's in the kitchen getting near the trick box of Cap'n Crunch and I'M PISSED!

Hey! There's a boat in the pool!

The models get a load of the big new house soon after Janice meets with Otto Models. This is to solidify the fact that she won't actually do any work (you know, like, work like faxing and negotiating and using a non-cellular telephone and stuff), she'll just be barking at people and changing outfits all day. Hey, that gets exhausting, though, especially with the cache of being the world's first supermodel in 300BC. Yeah, I know: That's before JESUS.

But I digress. The models dig the new digs, wandering around like watery-eyed, big-titted puppy dogs. The older models are even more ridiculous than the new ones: Brian Kehoe, a model from last season, is a case in point. If the Model House was a frat house, he'd be pouring the date-rape laced drinks. Actually, watch your drink. Yeah, even from your computer. I can smell his STDs from the monitor. Yeah, I smell STDS. Yes, I'm magic.

Is someone making pot roast?

« Shear Genius: Finale - A 'Do And A Don't Together! | | Chickbomb's Deep Thoughts On The New 90210 »

Posted in Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency by Monamonzano at 12:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)
Last Comment: katethegreat on Aug 31, 2008 11:24 AM.