Multiple Personality

Well…the three days of Starr Exed Luvverz have ended. Our long national nightmare is over.

It was like they wanted to fit a bunch of musical numbers into the show in the worst way. And that’s just the way they did it.

Why didn’t they just call the whole thing “WTF: The Musical!” Made no sense. Had no style. Meh voices. Meh choreography. A few nice costumes amid the miasma. And, honestly, wouldn’t we all rather see Brody have a naked breakdown in the shower than SING? (more…)

Just checking in:

I felt sad when Slutty died, because she had stopped being a whiny bitch and started being a screwy, I-love-my-baby lunatic. I would’ve enjoyed seeing the latter sleepwalk around Llanview for a while — on top of the ice, not under it.

I thought that was a damn exciting sequence they had, with that six-foot wading pool standing in for a frozen lake. Good work, set designers.

(more…)

Manhands and Clammy and Mitch, Oh My

So, did this show need me to stop blogging to hit its stride again? Things are pretty fab lately, huh?

This thing is just crawling with guilty pleasures, and I think my favorite moment today is when Mitch barks at Nurse Manhands and makes her scurry out of the room, or cave, or fortress…wherever they are. If it wasn’t already clear, I LOVE Nurse Manhands…she reminds me of Beowulf.

(more…)

Manhands and T-bones

That Mitch sure falls down easy. Brody barely pushed him, and he just went down like a sack of mushy potatoes. Is that what it means to be surrendered to the Lord, or something?

Over at Sagi-Capricorn, or whatever, Langston is ogling the decorations while Markkkko tells her how pretty she looks. And then a deep voice of ultimate hotness chimes in with how “muy caliente” she looks. Seems that Ford has a better idea.

(more…)

Make Room for Daddy-Rapist

Viki is trying to get Charlie to open up about whatever-the-hell (killing Mitch) he’s being so quiet about, but he’s engrossed in thinking about something (killing Mitch). Then his phone rings and it’s Dorian, who wants him to meet her at the dive bar (and kill Mitch). He tells Viki he needs to go off and meet someone (and killl Mitch).

Jessica has gotten another greeting card from Daddums. She and Brody both seem to ponder how nice it would be to kill Mitch.

(more…)

It’s the Pot Calling the Kettle “Bitches”

Tea got really pretty hair between yesterday and today. I guess it counterbalances Todd’s newly sour disposition. Besides that, poor Dani has gone through a very artistic montage where she learned every evil thang about Daddy Toddy.

Underage Langston has told Blair every single detail about the multiple orgasms she’s been having by fantasizing about Ford while she’s in bed with Chevy.

(more…)

Baby Needs a Hit

It’s Starr’s 18th birthday, and I hope Blair stops banging Elihunk long enough to wish her glad tidings. As Blair was escorting (with tongue) Elihunk to the door, Todd came downstairs. Blair’s cover story: He came to bring her papers. Where are the papers? Of course he might have taken back the papers. (I’m sure I’m not the only one — or maybe I am — that got the obscure reference to a Sondheim musical the writers were throwing in. Bonus points to anyone who can name the show.)

Rex is at Crayfish Fondo (see how I got Ford’s name in there?) with Slutty in tow, paying Fish his bodyguard fee. Kyle is sitting there glowering at the pregnant slut. I’m actually enjoying this storyline now. Nothing like adding a couple homos to a tired plot to perk things up.

(more…)

Clammy the Midwife

Charlie’s bender has taken him to a place apparently called ‘What a Dump”…at least, according to the heavily sunglassed Dorian.

And now that Fish has stopped cracking Ford’s back (that’s not a euphemism), enough blood has rushed back to his brain to ask Kyle why he’s so preoccupied. Fish: “It wouldn’t be because Stacy’s carefully contrived fetus-story is starting to erode, would it?”

(more…)

They Are Spartacus

The Llanview Letter Opener Company must be out of stock right now, since every protagonist in town has trudged into Commish McCheesy’s office and confessed to having stabbed Mitch Laurence…and all they got was this bloody letter opener. Nora is smiling smugly (and with good hair) at the Evil Commish; she’s enjoying herself, since who doesn’t love a parade?

The Commish, with great poutiness, has had to release Mumbles…but he tells Mumbles that he’s fired. A look of nothing-in-particular wanders over Mumbles’s face, as Marty looks over at him with nothing much on her face either. The Trademark Mumbles Blank Stare seems to be transmitted by sexual intercourse.

(more…)

How Do You Say “Yawn” in Tahitian?

The problem with Mitch having these all-encompassing script-supervisor superpowers is that there’s no specific place for them to end, once they go as over-the-top as they’ve gone. So, since Mitch seems to know every freakin’ thing that goes on with everyone…why doesn’t he know that Slutty’s fetus isn’t his flesh and blood? I have to say, this latest visit from Mitchie isn’t the paranoid creep-out of visits of yore…it almost seems like a parody of previous Mitch-ness, and I don’t think it’s working so well.

(more…)