Kathy Ireland Goes to DWTS Heaven

Kathy Ireland is on a big, white puffy cloud in DWTS heaven (Macy and Ashley are, well, somewhere else) wondering how it all went wrong. God Himself must have voted for Kathy (the God I worship watches DWTS) but according to the official rules of DWTS voting procedure, God only gets one vote per phone call like the rest of us. So, there you have it. Kathy Ireland RIP. We barely had time to buy some towels or such from the Kathy Ireland home furnishings empire.

A few observations because I have no intention of giving a play-by-play until this crowd of forgettable nobodies gets whittled down a bit more.

• My comment last week about Samantha's hair must have really gotten to her because her long-ass extensions are back in. Sam, sweetie, my problem is more with your personality. Let's work on our personality rather than our hair as this week's homework assignment, shall we?
• Debi Mazar looks like the love child of Kirstie Alley from Star Trek and Marilyn Manson.

• Debi Mazar's partner made her cry. The substance that emerged from her eyes was equal part windshield wiper fluid and vampire blood.
• Joanna Krupa was channeling Dee Snyder thanks to the DWTS hairstylist who is obviously blowing friends with the producer.
• Cheryl the Professional Dancer is getting payback for having the good fortune of being paired with Frenchie last season. The punishment? Tom DeLay. Yum.
• I do know this: there is a snowboarder, a swimmer, an ex-NFL-er and some kind of scary-ass fighter left in the mix. Dear ABC, lay off the sports has-beens. Nobody cares. I'll take 20 Ashley Hamiltons with dubious marriage records and several restraining orders over another Olympian or former professional sports figure we haven't heard of. Unless it's a big name like that one-balled bicycling guy who has had sex with Sheryl Crow, an Olsen twin, Kate Hudson and Tory Birch, among others. I don't know his name off the top of my head but if I can name three or more of his bedmates, that's good DWTS material.
• What I won't take, however, is 20 Aaron Carters. Do vote him and his spiky blond hair off, would you America? I fear there are Hilary Duff tween wannabes out in tv land who think he must be cool if The Duff dated him. Which means he'll be around a while. Sigh.
• If memory serves, we also have left Kelly Osboure, Donny Osmond and that singer who is not Rihanna but I think she is. I'll start memorizing names when it's down to like eight. Leave me alone already.

Here's a final thought: If Dancing with the Stars is so great at reviving careers, why are ALL OF THE FORMER CONTESTANTS IN THE LIVE AUDIENCE EACH NIGHT instead of working?

Macy Pops Her Cherry, Gets Sent Home

People, I realize I'm behind here. If I knew Dancing With Who The Hell Are These Losers was going to stretch it to three nights last week I would have just become a Big Brother fan and be done with it. But, no fear. I'm here now and will catch up quickly by reading the "stars" bios and trying to figure out which one is only famous due to blood and marriage (Ashley Hamilton), which one is a little too "churchy" for my blood (Kathy Ireland) and which one I keep getting mixed up with that new professional dancer because the stylist keeps giving them the same dumb hairdo (Joanna Krupa).

Let's cut to the chase and give some thoughts / favorite moments thus far:

• Macy saying after her first dance that she was happy to have "popped her cherry" was by far the best recent moment of network television -- and yes I'm counting that SNL newcomer dropping the F bomb. I hope fifth-graders everywhere turned to their parents and asked, "What's popping a cherry, mommy?" Cut to Tom the Host who suggests Macy should have cherry jubilee for dessert. Seriously, who knew Tom had a brain? If he isn't up for an Emmy for best reality tv host after that line, I will protest the Emmys. And speaking of hosts and brains, Samantha didn't grow one during the off-season. In fact, what small amount of gray matter she did have was lopped off along with her hair, which she's wearing in this season's "It" do, The Helmet. Larry King has better interviewing skills and might even be better looking. You heard it here first on a possible replacement...
• Tom the host, while looking at a frame of Macy and Kelly Osbourne says, "Where else besides Dancing With the Stars would you get to see Macy Gray and Kelly Osbourne together?" Umm... rehab? A bar? A drug den? Jail?
• Unfortunately there isn't an underage dancer for Bruno to ravage this season (thanks no doubt to ABC's legal eagles after Bruno's behavior with Shawn last season) so he's taken to making love to Joanna from the judges table. Can someone please confirm Bruno's sexuality -- it's confusing.
• Kelly Osbourne running over to her parents after actually not making an ass of herself and doing quite well. They then do an impromptu interview of Ozzy (DON'T PEOPLE KNOW NOT TO DO AN IMPROMPTU INTERVIEW OF OZZY OSBOURNE ON NATIONAL TELEVISION?) and he mumbles something that might be "Bring me a live bat" and everyone gets misty-eyed.
• Is the Republican party not in enough of a pickle without Twinkle Toes Tom DeLay going on Dancing With the Stars? And, we know the "star" part of the DWTS title is ridiculous, but now former politicians qualify? Look to see Levi Johston next season when they expand the definition of "star" to include former politician's fertile almost son-in-laws.
• Joanna Krupa is proof positive that photoshopping is alive and well. Why does Joanna look SO MUCH BETTER in photos? Anna Wintour, if you're reading, and I have every reason to believe you are, do let us know. On tv Joanna sort of looks like a cross between Cameron Diaz and one of those sleestack monsters from Land of the Lost.
• Melissa Joan Hart could be the love child of Alicia Silverstone and Tonya Harding:

See what I mean?

So, here's the sad part. Macy was by far the most amusing constestant -- who knows what she would compare her forthcoming dances to after the cherry-popping comment. Sodomy? Unfortunately, we'll never know because the viewing audience of DWTS obviously SUCKS ASS. You're going to keep on some unknown athletes and AARON F@#$ing CARTER over Macy Gray? Morons. Who is going to keep up the vulgarity in Macy's absence? Donny Osmond? Sheesh.

Also upsetting is we didn't even give Ashley Hamilton enough time to get married and divorced. Who knows what 15-minutes of marital bliss he might have found if not voted off. Would it have been with Joanna or Kelly or maybe he would have gone for the real challenge and gotten Kathy to dump her Christian values and husband for him and then left her at the alter. Sigh.

Kermit the Frog Gone Wrong

Okay, peoples, my computer's on, I'm full of International Delight Amaretto coffee creamer, and I have nothing better to do than fold my laundry, so let's get this recap started! Woo-hoo!

The episode begins with everyone basically saying how happy they are that Crystal Meth Johnny has gone home. Then Nicolas oh-so-smarmily announces to the camera, "I'm not here to make FRIENDS, I'm here to win," which was such an original thing to say. In 2001. I mean, Jesus, designers. Can't one of you at least try to be entertaining? Can't one of you start speaking in tongues or drop trou at Mood or something? You're making me very sleepy.

Heidi grandly tells the assembled Rat Pack that their challenge will involve "something that L.A. is most known for." OMG! Is it underage sex? Broken dreams? Fake boobs? Eating disorders?A low speed chase? Nope, it's (yawn) movie-making! The designers are told to invent a look based on a movie genre, like Western, or Period Piece or Film Noir (which they mispronounce about 100 times.) I keep waiting for my favorite movie genre--Women in Prison--to come up, but it doesn't. Shame. You can do a lot with pinstripes and shackles.

The designers quickly put their outfits together because it's a 1-day challenge, then Ra'Mon panics because his Sci-Fi outfit looks more like "Kermit the Frog gone wrong." Which is true; it's like green roadkill smeared on a dressform. Next they go to the make-up room with the models, and we're treated to approximately 2 million shots of the L'Oreal logo. Man, I hope Klum's getting a lifelong supply of blusher from those people.

The runway show begins and, of course, Kors and Garcia are AWOL again. It's like they're hitchhiking to L.A. from NYC and they're stuck in Idaho without cell phones. So today's judges are John Varvatos, the Marie Claire chick, and a real costume designer who's name I didn't care to read. And then the show begins! The judges pick Nicolas' Sci-Fi snow queen, Christopher's beautiful vampire western bride and Epperson's wild west woman as their faves. Their not so faves are Louise's "cheap, snoozefest" flapper look, German Gordana's "not special" 20's piece, and Ra'Mon's Alien Reptile skank dress that, in all honestly, would probably be a best seller at the Paramus Wet Seal store.

After a few tense moments, they announce that the winner is Nicolas! Blech. He giggles and claps and makes me want to lose my lunch because I hate his hair so much. Here's his winning look:


Then the loosah decision comes down to either Louise or Ra'Mon...who will it be? Aw, crap, it's Ra'Mon! He's cool and takes it in stride, but for some reason, Louise runs off stage crying. Oh, these creative people. I just can't figure them out. Anyway, Tim then gives Ra'Mon a nice send off, I go to sleep, and we can all cross another week of PR off our calendars.

Black and White and Bitchy

(Previously on Project Runway, Qristyl gets kicked off for designing some ugly dress and I pass out on my couch because that episode was so f*cking boring.)

But this week is a different story because it would appear that the designer's claws are finally coming out. Apparently the producers realized that this new season was the TV equivalent of dropping 3 Ambien with a NyQuil chaser, so they've told the designers to just throw out their medication and start flying their bitch flags already. Thank God.

The funky bunch starts their day with little bitchy quips about each other, but they're soon distracted by a field trip with Tim to the Los Angeles Times where they're given this week's challenge: design a garment using newspapers as fabric. Of course, if you live under a freeway overpass, this is not exactly an innovative concept, but let's just play along.

We know right off the bat that this is going to be Naughty Nicolas' show because the camera is on him constantly. (We're not tricked by this stuff anymore, reality show producers.) But isn't this just a face only a (completely wasted) mother could love?


Next,Tim comes in to make his rounds and sees Crystal Meth Johnny's rather strange newspaper dress. "I'm woeful Johnny," Tim says to him with concern. "This is like a craft project gone awry. It looks like a bunch of kindergartners did it." Which of course is an insult to kindergartners everywhere because at least 5-year-olds know how to make a proper hemline.

After Tim leaves, Johnny freaks out, rips up his dress, and begins to make a new one. Only here's the thing: he PRETENDS that his original dress was destroyed by a faulty steamer, a lie that sends Nicolas into a complete, gossipy tizzy. Johnny counters by snarking that Nicolas' dress looks like "dinosaur chic" and by this point, I can't decide if they're going to fight or make-out with each other under a sewing machine table. (I also can't decide which of those options would make me throw up my dinner more violently.)

We finally make it to the runway where today's judges are some editor from Marie Claire, Tommy Hilfiger, aka "the guy who likes to put his name on culottes," and Desperate Housewife Eva Longoria Parker. Like I said before, where's Kors this year? Band camp?

The models do their stuff, then the judging begins with Irina winning for a cool, newspaper trench coat that I'm sure will be a huge hit with the people who live in shopping carts:



Then Johnny's asked about his ugly dress and he pulls out his faulty steamer story again. Only this time, Nicolas completely throws him under a bus by telling the judges that Johnny's lying. To which Johnny oh-so-elegantly replies, "Jerk." Ah, young love!

Finally it comes down to decision time: Crytal Meth Johhny or Naughty Nicolas? Who is the biggest loosah? Dum, dum, dum....it's Johnny! After he packs his bag and goes, telling the camera that "giving up addiction wasn't as hard as doing this show," Tim finds himself so upset by everything that he breaks decorum and tells the rest of the designers, "I'm incredulous of the utterly preposterous spewing of fiction that Johnny did on the runway."

In other words, "Bitch, please."

Wiping Out at the Surfin' Safari

Here we go--the recap of Episode 3! But I feel it's only fair to warn you all that I'm writing this on Sunday, and I watched the show three days ago after I'd had a glass of wine or two. Meaning, much like the JoBros' virginity pledge, this probably isn't going to make a lot of sense.

But let's pretend that I know what I'm talking about and begin with our contestants showing up on the beach to receive this week's challenge--from a flip-flop wearing Tim Gunn. Yes, as a way to show that he's really getting into the L.A. spirit, our Mr. Gunn is indeed wearing a pair of flip-flops with his chinos and blazer, making him look like Jesus: The Interior Decorator. ("No, no, the stone tablets should be hung vertically, not horizontally! Oh, Moses, can you please just make it work? Thank you!")

Tim tells them that the challenge of the week is to design a "surf inspired look" for the surly pack of girl surfers posed on the beach behind him. But the look also has to incorporate a "hair design" from Garnier. (Boo-yah! In your face Tres Semme!) Personally, I find the Garnier part a little weird, but maybe that's just because the only "hair design" I have when I'm on the beach is called "The Greasy, Sandy Ponytail That Nobody Wants to Touch."

Anyway, Tim then tells the designers that this will be a TEAM CHALLENGE and oh, Lawdy, does that make everyone freak out. After they pair up, do some sketches and run crazily around Mood, the designers begin to put together their garments. Everything's going well until Tim pops in and announces that they also have to design an avant-garde look as well. Augh! Two looks! Panic! But then everyone quickly calms down and seems to be getting along swimmingly. Well, except for Qristyl, the plus-Sexy designer and her partner Epperson who looks like the love child of Venus Flytrap from WKRP In Cincinnati and Bob Marley. They're not getting along so well because apparently, Epperson is quite bossy, and Qristyl doesn't want to be told what to do because, as she reminds us 100 times, she is "the team leader." Yay, drama! But while I eagerly wait for her to go all Whitney on Epp's ass and scream, "Oh, hell to the no!" and pull out his dreadlocks with a rusty seam ripper, instead all she does is pout. Zzzzzzz.

There's also trouble in paradise between Ra'Mon, the shy, sensitive dude who last week designed a maternity dress that looked like a bowling ball carrier, and his partner, whitebread Southerner Mitchell, who was not only in the bottom two the first week for sending a nearly-naked model down the runway, but also in the bottom last week for making a pair of maternity shorts so huge that two regular size people could wear them at the same time. I predict Mitchell's future in fashion involves the words "mall" and "kiosk."

Anyway, I'm not sure what's going on between these two, exactly, but it's making Ra'Mon quite upset. Unfortunately for us viewers, Ra'Mon must be on the same heavy duty pharmaceuticals as Qristyl because his being "upset" has about as much energy as a pile of rocks. For the love of God, what's with these people? Did they learn nothing from Omarosa or The Real Housewives of New Jersey? I mean, throw us a hissy fit. Push over a table. Choke a stripper. You're on TV, man.

The runway show begins and today we have guest judges Max Azaria, a designer who needs subtitles even when he's speaking English, and a chick from one of those teenager sex shows, Rachel Bilson. Where's Michael Kors this year? Prison? Anyway, after we see all of the models, they narrow it down to the loosahs and the winnahs. The loosahs for this challenge are the smug Nicolas and his partner Gordana, mostly because of this horror show that has about as much in common with the beach as I do with a sensible diet and exercise regimen:


Whaaa??? Are there beaches in Skank Town? Are hookers surfing now? Is she a tranny jellyfish? Confusion sets in.

But then comes the most shocking moment, even more shocking than lace garters at the beach, the winnahs for the challenge are----Ra'Mon and Mitchell! OMG, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! Only here's the added shocker: even though his team won the challenge, Mitchell is still kicked off the show! Burn! Sorry, buddy, but maybe in retrospect it wasn't such a good idea to tell the judges that Ra'Mon did all of the work and you did nothing. After all, the first rule of reality TV to lie your ass off whenever the cameras point in your direction.

Like I said, haven't you people learned anything from The Real Housewives of New Jersey?

Pregnancy Chic is OK. Pregnancy Chick Is Not.

OK, peoples, let's get episode two's recap started! Yay! WTF? Why am I so enthusiastic?! Have I had too much coffee today!?! Yes! I think I have! Go Starbucks! Venti! Grande! Smalli! Why are my hands shaking?! Is this arrhythmia I feel under my bra? OMG! I need to lie down! Back in a bit!

Now where was I? Oh, right--episode two of Project Runway! It begins with a new challenge delivered by special guest, supermodel/actress/ex-wife of John Stamos--Rebecca Rojuminisiemestan! (Note: I will henceforth be referring to her as "Romaine" because that I know how to spell and also, I really like lettuce.)

Judging by the rather large midsection she's rockin', it would appear that the fat kid from Stand By Me has knocked Ms. Romaine up good--with twins, no less--so the challenge for our designers is to make her a chic maternity outfit. Apparently, the crap she's been getting from "Maternity Works" in the Sherman Oaks Galleria isn't quite good enough for Fancy Pants who still wants to look stylish while she's cooking up babies. Unlike myself who spent two pregnancies clad in an XXXL t-shirt that said, "What Attitude Problem?" but like they say, it takes all kinds.

After receiving their rather daunting assignment, the designers do their typical sketch session, followed by their typical mad fabric dash at Mood. Back in the workroom, each contestant is then given a strap-on. Let me repeat that: each contestant is then given a strap-on. Dear Lord, if that's not one of the most delicious sentences I've ever written in my entire frickin' life, I don't know what is. My fingers are shaking just to type it. Anyway, unlike the strap-ons most of these designers are probably much more acquainted with, these strap-ons aren't actually leather, red or motorized, and are sadly just the foam maternity bellies they need to attach to their dress forms. Quel let-down, I know, so let's just skip to the part where we see the dresses come out on stage.

Now let me ask you: have you ever seen a snake with a huge, undigested rat inside it? Great, because then you'll know exactly what 100-pound models wearing huge, fake bellies look like coming down the runway. It was like watching a sad parade of malnutritioned kids wearing too much L'Oreal Paris make-up and Garnier hair products go by. I almost wanted to send them each a $100 check, a cupcake and a UNICEF t-shirt just to make myself feel better.

However, I have to say that there were a couple of good designs that Romaine liked, most notably by Althea, Louise and the winner, Shirina, who made a lovely preggers dress and coat that didn't suck at all. But since good design is boring, let's move on to this week's loser--my buddy Malvin. In his infinite 20-year-old single gay guy wisdom, Malvin decided that what every pregnant woman in the world dreams of wearing while she's carrying around 30 extra pounds of water and human is a feathery, avant-garde outfit that makes her look like a depressed potbellied chicken:

Yes, amazingly enough, Malvin's "Mother Hen" design wasn't a hit with the lady judges, even after Tim Gunn talked him out of his planned "maternity jodpurs so the chicken concept really comes out." But I guess his early dismissal is understandable because, as Malvin himself put it as he was being consoled backstage by his fellow trying-not-to-look-too-happy friends, "I'm just too conceptual for America." Or maybe, Malvin, America's just too normal for you. Bawk!

Project Runway: The Return

Praise be to Halston, Heidi and Tim are back! And not only have they moved their show to the Lifetime channel, home of Valerie Bertinelli, they've also moved their entire fabric-covered carnival to Los Angeles, home of...Valerie Bertinelli. Damn, Val. Now that you lost those 30 pounds of fat, you're everywhere. Dial it down a little, baby. Have a cupcake.

Alright, as episode one begins, the new group of wannabe designers appears to be the same freaky pack as usual. A few gay guys, an older German woman, a couple blonde chicks from the South, an effusive African-American woman named "Qristyl" who designs clothes for larger women that she calls "Plus Sexy," and of course, a few contestants who look like they need a long, hot shower and someone to forcibly cut off their skinny jeans so the blood can once again flow to their chiffon-infused brains. (I'm looking at you, Ra'Mon.)

A few minutes in, the show doesn't look or feel much different from when PR was on that other network that has Real Housewives and rhymes with Smavo. Copycats, but whatevs. The inaugral challenge for our new friends is to design a "red carpet look," to which Malvin--the androgynous Asian menance with a puffy fauxhawk--responds, "I don't see red carpets. I'm colorblind to carpets" or some other such douchey thing like that that makes me want to punch him senseless with my empty bottle of Sutter Home. (And not to show off my public school education or anything, but doesn't "Mal" + "Vin" translate into "Bad Wine" in some other language? So therefore, my instincts on hurting Malvin are not so off the mark, now are they?)

After the usual hi-jinks and freakouts and "YOU DON'T KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME TO MAKE PLEATS BECAUSE I USED TO BE A CRYSTAL METH ADDICT!" confessions, the dresses are done and Minnesota Christoper, who apparently can't wear a hat at a straight angle and must look like a douchebag at all times or they'll take away his Ed Hardy credit card, wins for a flirty cocktail dress that guest judge LINSDAY LOHAN really liked. Yeah, that's right. I said LINDSAY. Who in a rare show of professionalism, wasn't wasted, naked or fighting with her DJ girlfriend Squiggy during her 10-minutes of camera time. The reason behind this normality is either LaLohan's finally maturing, or it wasn't actually her, it was that girl who looks like her from The Parent Trap doing her a huge-ass favor, or our homegirl Nina Garcia threatened to give Linds a wedgie with her own leggings if she didn't behave like a grown-up for once in her life. I'm not sure what it was, but her maturity was hugely disappointing to both me and the Lifetime execs who booked her hoping it'd result in a a coke-fueled US Weekly cover. Sigh.

After some tense drumbeats, we find out that the loser of the challenge is, no surprise, hippie girl Ari for her futuristic soccer ball outfit that everyone hated with a white hot passion. Ari's early exit was predicted previously in the show when, instead of sketching her design, she instead did some weird form of inverted yoga and tried to channel her garmet into her probably already very frail psyche. But her leaving the show isn't all bad news, as I'm sure her former co-workers at the San Dimas medical marajuana club will be happy to have her back on the night shift. After all, nobody slings bud as fashionably as Ari.

Episode 2 recap coming soon!