Chandra ate 10 live slugs and drank cow bile. Girlfriend worked hard for her money, OK?
For Love or Money 2: The Finale
Don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit pimped. NBC strung us along for almost two hours just to find out Erin picked Chad and that the fool chose her over the money. All those shots of the boys walking, deep in thought around the mansion grounds. Oh, the soft-focused flashback scenes! ("Remember when we first met on the veranda. When I was guy seven of 15... ") Now don't go getting your panties in a bunch. I want love to win just as much as anybody else. But come on now. Nobody believes the love between Erin and Chad. (Or the "falling in love," as Erin said.) Hell, I don't even think Chad believes. That boy just gambled that someway, somehow he could get the lady and the loot. And he did. More power to him.
The Pizza Hut Commercial
If you're good to Mama, you can get a medium one-topping pizza and a 2-liter Pepsi for just $1.99. Thanks for sharing Queen Latifah. Yeah, girl, I recognized your voice.
Why is it that big men always seem to be crying on ESPN? During a For Love or Money break I turned the channel just in time to catch one of the buff contestants saying, "Everybody who knows me, knows that I don't cry." A second later: Big man was bawling as he got pulled out of the race for medical reasons. Yeah.
Does Tina have that skin disease that Michael Jackson claimed he had? Don't front. You saw her shoulders. You know why I'm just asking.
I've seen it a thousand times. Yet every time I channel surf past the B-movie that resurrected Drew Barrymore's career, I have to stop. It's just brilliant like that. I mean, come on. You've got Cheryl Ladd, Sara Gilbert, Tom Skerrit and Barrymore in the same family! In the 10 short minutes I caught last night: Drew had sex with Sara's dad on top of his BMW. In the rain. Went home and made nice with a melancholy Sara. Woke up the next morning and killed Sara's mother. Wore one of mom's best black dresses to the funeral. Then counseled a mourning Sara in her dead mother's bed. What?! They just don't write 'em like that anymore.
The Wade Robeson Project
And, by "Wade" I mean Wade the dancer/choreographer, not Wade the bachelor who just lost a million bucks... Anyway, MTV is trying to kill a girl with this dance show. Seriously. First of all: Wade is only, like, 12 and he's already choreographed shows for every pop band known to man. Sick overachiever. And, second, you know I tried to dust it off with contestants Twitch and Tonya, right? Had to. Wade was teaching what he called "the easy stuff." Finally: A routine I could do. Go, Rochell! Get busy!
Is it wrong that this cartoon speaks to me? I mean, seriously. Here are some of words of advice I heard on last night's repeat: "Getting hitched does not equal happiness." Amen! "You don't have to be married just to get some nookie." True that. And "There's nothing like sitting your ass down on cold marble." Well...
Poor Joe — er Matt Gould (or whatever his real name is.) During one scene the producers identify him on screen as "Matt: Thinks It's for real." That's just wrong.