ANTM Cycle 12, Episode 9: Ty Takes On

Despite the earnest humanness of edited live keyboard conversations, glaring limitations of numerous breeds persist. The perspectives that the Mayor and I tote into our cross-metro conversations are reusable grocery bags (you like that Galen Weston?) teeming with similar eccentricities, biases, small town cultural idioms and penchants for feces related humour. Our commentary weekly forsakes the viewpoints of so many honest and intriguing personalities in lieu of our own crass repartee. For this week’s ANTM recap, I have invited two inanimate pieces of clothing and the accompanying stereotypical attitudes of their related sporters to help me dissect some curious quotes from the Famous Five (you like that Canadian Women’s Right’s History reference Nellie McClung?). I will be joined by a Northern Reflections cotton polyester sweater and a free NHL t-shirt from inside a 24 of Labatt Blue featuring the slightly offensive Vancouver Canucks Logo. Shall we?

Celia: ‘I have potential at this age’

Ty – Right, and I have potential to not drink three beers while writing this.

Beer Shirt – How did the girl from last weekend that looked good in the strobe light but like a pale female cro-mag at the street meat cart outside get on this show? I’m still not going to call her, she probably smells like Polident and Judge Mathis.

Northern Reflections – I’ll make it clubs, but you better have the right bower!

Fo: ‘I’m unbelievably proud of myself’

Ty – So are the marketing people from the Mexican division of Clearasil for convincing you to market those blackheads as freckles.

Beer Shirt – If I were to do her, can I cross two squares off on my ethnic unprotected sex bingo card?

Aminat: ‘There’s Paulo, he’s speaking Portuguese’

Northern Reflections – I remember when one of those people came to fix the air conditioning in my condo. Nice fellow.

Ty – There’s Aminat, speaking like the most culturally diverse thing she’s ever done is eating Mr. Wong’s while watching Three Ninjas.

Fo: ‘I know time is a big thing in fashion’

Beer Shirt – I know a big thing in my pants, and they’re fashion.

Ty – You know what else is a big thing in fashion? NOT YOUR SHORT TEARY ETHNIC ASS!

Aminat (about Celia): ‘No offense to her, she looks old, she doesn’t look young, she doesn’t look fresh’

Northern Reflections – Each of our wrinkles tell a story.

Ty – How is Celia supposed to take that other than being offended? ‘You look like a bag of milk past due but hey, no offense. Let’s go brush Sutan’s hair together, k?’

Aminat: ‘I’m African, I’m never on time’

Northern Reflections – Oh! Now I understand those ‘Get your Phone Reconnected’ commercials.

Aminat (on helicopters): ‘I never thought in my life I’d be inside one’

Ty - Is this what all the straight guys say during their first Nigel Barker induced homersexual experience?

Beer Shirt - I swear I said this out loud at some point during Chapter Two of The Da Vinci Code.

Teyona: ‘Don’t touch, don’t touch, I want it all’

Beer Shirt - I hear this all the time. Thank you Axe.

Northern Reflections - That sounds like me at the Golden Griddle after church.

Allison: ‘I feel a bit awkward’

Ty - I feel the same when I wake up after sexual Sailor Moon dreams thanks to you.

Northern Reflections - Buying Metamucil never gets easier.

Nigel: ‘Excuse me, do you know where the beach is?’

Beer Shirt - No, no I don’t.

Northern Reflections - He makes Neil Sedaka look like Rita McNeil.

Mr. Jay (on Fo): ‘you’re giving me Gollum again’

Ty - Of all the things that Fo will play back in her freckly head years after this Cycle ends and she’s selling slacks at Sears, this will bring on those greasy tears more than anything else – could a visual metaphor get much worse than Gollum? What would you rather be compared to, Gollum, Sloth from The Goonies or Clint Howard?

Beer Shirt - I’ll show her my precious.

Mr. Jay (on Celia and Nigel): ‘it’s embarrassing to have the photographer jump in the scene for you’

Ty - Is it ever embarrassing to have Nigel Barker jump in anything for you?

Editor's Note - How embarassing is it to be a dead-ringer for The Ragin' Cajun?

Paula: ‘Modeling is like quicksand, the more you try, the more you sink’

Northern Reflections - This sounds like trying to get out of the tub.

Ty - Confucius say, ‘Pretension like weave, bigger it gets, harder to find bitch attached worthwhile’

Miss J (on Fo’s photo): ‘This is a Fo – Pas’

Ty - You continuing with this Fo word play after your one week grace period is un-fo-givable.

Tyra (on Aminat’s photo): ‘what I see in your pictures is a waste of a body’

Beer Shirt - What I see when looking at her boring pictures is a waste of me not getting wasted.

Fo: ‘I’m going to get my high school diploma!’

Ty - Shoot for the moon Fo! Even if you miss, you’ll still land among the stars of K-Mart catalogues.

If you're going to be in the Toronto area and would like to attend a taping of The Skip-Raid

So today is Wednesday, which means a couple of things. Firstly, tomorrow's ANTM post ship will be helmed soley by Ty. I, The Mayor, will be attending a book reading by This American Life and WireTap's Jonathan Goldstein for his newest book Ladies and Gentlemen, The Bible!* I may or may not have also scored an interview with him. It clearly didn't have anything to do with my massive internet celebrity or anything, whatever. It's not like I have a line-up of amazing interviews coming up in May, which I would love to tell you about, but they are pretty hush-hush and I wouldn't want to spoil the awesome surprises. Again, it's just luck that big-time A-listers want to talk to moi. Whatever.

Anyways, if you live in Toronto and have nothing to do this evening (or even if you have something to do, just ditch, k?) then you should see Jonathan Goldstein this evening at:
This is not a reading series with Jonathan Goldstein and improv by Monkey Toast**
The Rivoli, 332 Queen St. West
7:30pm $5
*Just like every book review/author interview I do, I always read the book. This is very very funny. I would encourage you to buy it, but I think your $5 also gets you a free copy. I now feel like a schmuck for spending $20.
**This could either be really funny or really terrible, and if my memory serves me correctly, improv = terrible.

Next, there isn't really a post today because I have been as busy as a Japanese beaver. I'm in the midst of a quarter-life crisis (FUN) and a massive Strangers with Candy marathon (JELLINECK!!) I'm sorry, I know how lazy I have been as of late. Yesterday you get pictures of a cut-up finger, and today you get me prattling on about a book reading. I thought I'd make it up to you by drawing rainbows coming out of people's faces. Enjoy! Don't say I don't ever give you nothing!

A small interview with my sister, who cut off part of her finger.

Warning! Thar be gross pictures ahead! Just like with the Poo Nuggets post from last week, there are some sort-of gross pictures below. I mean, it's just a couple of jpegs of a cut-up finger and some stitches (no blood, so no worries) but I thought I'd be kind and give you the heads up. I know, you can thank me later with a muffin basket. Okay! Scroll down to read!
















I've written about my sister before on The Skip-Raid (I'd link to the interview, but I'll let you look for that) and she's actually been kind enough to write an article or two on The Hills (waaay back when I still wrote about The Hills. It seems so long ago!). Anyways, my sister Alex is an award-winning illustrator (you can see her work here) who has a show coming up this weekend, and while she was getting ready for it, she cut off part of her finger. I thought I might give my sister a call and ask her how it happened.

ALEX: Hello?

THE MAYOR: Hey. So, did you want to do this interview?

ALEX: Yeah.

THE MAYOR: Okaaaaay, so...can you email me? (I like to do interviews over email or gmail chat so that it's easy for me to just copy and paste).

ALEX: Ugh, no. I don't have a computer, remember? Just do it over the phone.

ALEX: Hello?

THE MAYOR: Oh, come on. This will take forever to transcribe. Okay, hold on, let me type my first question...

ALEX: I'm watching Rock of Love. Type that. Can I do this tomorrow? I can't be funny right now.
(This whole conversation was full of pauses and silence. She was clearly watching TV while on the phone with me).

THE MAYOR: Okay, tell me how you cut your finger?

ALEX: Don't do a story on my finger. It's stupid. Talk about those baby pictures of Audrina (She had recently sent me baby pictures of Ceiling Eyes from The Hills).

THE MAYOR: Okay, fine. I'm writing that.

ALEX: Okay, bye!

THE MAYOR: Bye.

This is the cut on her finger. She apparently still has the chunk that came out. She cut it with an X-acto knife. She's pretty tough - she didn't go in and get stitches. She just wrapped it up and let it start to heal. It's pretty sick - she said she had to pick out fibres of gauze when she unwrapped it.


Ewww! Are you looking at that side profile? That's gonna leave a mark. I can only imagine if it will leave an innie scar or an outie.


This is a picture of my sister's thumb. She has a really bad habit of hacking up her digits, and this was the first time. She was working at Tim Horton's (Dunkin' Donuts for all my American Readers) and she sliced open her thumb on a bagel knife. Her boss wasn't really thrilled that she was leaving in the middle of a shift, but she's a bit of a turd, so it came as no surprise. The same thing happened to my best friend; she was working there too and spilled a whole coffee pot of boiling water on her foot and then had to drive herself to the hospital. Stay classy, lady!

Anyways, get well soon, Little Blister! Put some soap on that shit - nobody needs an infection!

ANTM Cycle 12, Episode 8: "I wanted a swimming pool"

TY: My bird just got here just in time to make typing difficult (Editor’s Note: Ty had ordered Swiss Chalet for dinner).
Brazil! Who cheats on their boyfriend with a sexy Latin lover first?

THE MAYOR: Oh my god, this is the part of the season where we hear them all talk like small-town hicks. "I's never been on no airplane befo! Dis a whole nutha contree!"

TY: Dem people sound like da chickens in pa's shed!

THE MAYOR: I'm going to guess that Allison will sleep with a Brazilian model and Celia will sleep with anyone with a bootleg prescription for Cialis.

TY: I fear that the sun will make Celia age even more, making her, ummm.......the Crypt Keeper?


THE MAYOR: The Crypt Keeper, or Mr. Burn's mother. Oh man! Let's start the "Borderline Racist Comment" count. Every time they go to a "foreign" country they always say something marginally racist.

TY: Haterade. I love when they drink that, to replenish their bitcholytes.

THE MAYOR: Wow. That graphic of them on the plane flying to Brazil looks like something out of a Bad Boy commercial.

TY: Nooooooooooooooooooobody will get this Southern Ontario reference. Is this chick Brooke shield's sister?

THE MAYOR: "Teyona's a track star". Must…not…make…joke…about….black…people…being…good…at….track.

TY: Is this the Amazing Race?

THE MAYOR: This is like The Mediocre-at-Best Race

TY: Celia’s driver is driving the way people her age always drive.

THE MAYOR: OMG - Celia and Allison are last. Of course. Celia probably had to stop 8 times to go to the bathroom (seniors are notorious for their small bladders and poor urine control). Why is Celia wearing a fur vest?

TY: Umm.... “it's actually neat to meet someone who has a song written about them” - Allison, you floor me with your lucid descriptions. Roll over Charles Fucken Dickens.

THE MAYOR: Here's an off-topic question: are Natalie's bewbs fake?

TY: On topic - yes, they bounced funny.

THE MAYOR: And they are huge! Baby Got Rack.

TY: Remember Sir Mix-a-Lot's follow up, “Put 'em on da Glass”? Cause Natalie could star in that video.

THE MAYOR: Oh my god, Natalie, if you don't like Brazil, then GO THE FUCK HOME.

TY: Did you catch Fo with Clearasil? She looked like (insert cum joke).

THE MAYOR: Very classy. I'm glad you didn't go for an obvious joke.

TY: No, I mean, we haven't talked about jizz in awhile, figured we need to spice it up, you know, for our younger audience.

THE MAYOR: The younger audience reads The Skip-Raid for the ejaculation jokes. Also, Capoeira is bogus. It's just break dancing with high-kicks. But Holy Shit, Celia round-housed a bitch! The judges were right: Teyona wasn’t modeling, she was just impersonating Jennifer Lopez in "Enough".


TY: Classy - Miss J just wiped his size seven pooper hole.


THE MAYOR: Holy shit, Aminat BROUGHT it. Was that our first "Fo sho" joke? Good one, Miss J!

TY: Are they going to make this 'fo-to' shoot reference the entire time? Cause I'd sure like to 'fo-get' about this episode if they did.


THE MAYOR: Damn. Fo has bad skin. That light in the closet was not kind to the Braille on her fo'head.

TY: At least she can exfoliate her arms with it. I feel like her freckles could secretly all be blackheads. One of those Biore strips might cure her of all her Blacxican cuteness. “Ew, it's like a porcupine!” but wait, it smells like those dual taco bell / KFCs.

THE MAYOR: "I see them bananas all the time!" - Let's add that to the racism count.

TY: Nice. Sutan the history teacher - I should watch my back, he might take my job.

THE MAYOR: Sutan doesn't edit Wikipedia; Wikipedia asks him how it should be written.

TY: Fuck! Sutan just stole my joke about fruit stacked up on each other!

THE MAYOR: Celia looks like a Gam-gam on a Jewish Seniors Cruise. Allison actually looks very good! She's so fun!

TY: She does - and I bet she'd let me do anything to her in bed. Wait....did I type that shit? I mean, what a professional model.

THE MAYOR: Oh my god, there's a Judge Judy phrase that describes Natalie: "you can polish a turd, but it's still a piece of shit". And in regards to that Allison comment, please keep both your hands on the keyboard while you are typing. This is a family show.

TY: The fruit on Teyona's head hides at least five of her ten head.


THE MAYOR: Teyona impresses me - she is fun and happy. I'm on Team 10-Head. Fo is camping it up. Even John Waters is watching her shoot and saying "take it easy, homegirl".

TY: If all girls were as ghastly as Celia and acted like Natalie, I'd be out right now trying to hunt down some frank n' beans bear boy.

THE MAYOR: Would you be a top or a bottom?

TY: Top, but I imagine all straight guys would say that and I mean, Ennis was a top and he got to nail Jake Gyllenhaal.

THE MAYOR: Yeah. If you're with a big ol' bear, I think you're bound to take a pounding. Tyra trying to "samba" should be on the racism count. It was like a Brazilian minstrel show.

TY: Who's taking the long, lonely flight home? Oh! Brazilian accent attempt - chalk that up.

THE MAYOR: Natalie looks like a Brazilian Tranny Hooker. Check that bitch for a dick! What is she saying about Jay Manuel?? Oooh chile! You can't lie to Ty-ty!!

TY: Celia fell asleep getting her perm and talking about Ethel's grandkids.


THE MAYOR: She fell asleep complaining about her grandson Ari. "I don't undastand it! He won't get married! I tell him, get a good Jewish girl, settle down, give me great-grandchildren! How is that too much to ask?"

TY: It's not too much to ask, just like it's not too much to ask Nigel how many straight Brazilian men he's turned since putting on that shirt.

THE MAYOR: Seriously? Nigel Barker is walking sex. That man has to try 0% to get women to drop they undawears.

TY: He looks like John Waters' wet dream.

THE MAYOR: OMG - are you watching this shitty commercial for SportChek?

TY: I am!

THE MAYOR: It's so garbage! I thought I was watching a Stitches commercial or Quest Personals. Oh Natalie - Holy Moley! Send her home!

TY: Fo-Pas. “She's the noun, not the verb” - I need to use that in my next round of report card comments. Not fresh? Does she need a douche?

THE MAYOR: I love that they made another Gam-gam joke. "She's 25, but she looks like me". How old is Ty-ty? Because she looks older than she actually is. I'm confused.

TY: So, Tyra knows everything and I should feel blessed to smell her turds?

THE MAYOR: Yes. Tyra is Jesus. Whoah! Allison won? Weird.


TY: Naw....she deserved that...either her or 10 Head.

THE MAYOR: True. They got the top 2 right. Yeah, make that the top 3.

TY: Natalie might punch a bitch if she loses.

THE MAYOR: Oooh!! I can't stand it!! Who is going home?! Natalie will whip a fake tittay at someone if she goes home. YES!!! SEND THAT BITCH HOME!!!!! Natalie can go back to Orange County and get a shitload of plastic surgery to make up for this loss.


TY: I can't tell if she's about to cry or piss. Or kick a whole through the wall

THE MAYOR: Lesson Learned: Don't tell lies about Jay Manuel that your ass can't cash! Ugh...she's such a sore loser. Next week - ugh, go-sees. I hate go-sees. But I do love Nigel Barker asking Celia "what the hell is that?" Probable answer: her catheter or colostomy bag

TY: Good call - or a happy 65th b-day card that falls out of the cellulite wrinkles.

THE MAYOR: Or packets of Metamucil On-The-Go!

TY: Or a bingo card.

THE MAYOR: Or pictures of her grandchildren.

TY: Or an autographed picture of Betty White. Or a Swiss Chalet 2-4-1 coupon.

THE MAYOR: Or her driver's license. "My kids tell me I shouldn't be driving, but they can't take my license away if they can’t find it!”

Zit videos are so 6 months ago.

Okay, I need to preface this post with a warning. It's safe for work (no peens or bageens) so no worries there...but I STRONGLY suggest that those with a weak stomach or a touchy gag reflex should just skip this post all together. I should also remind you that you are a huge pussy and you should be old enough to handle gross stuff. Oh come on, I kid cause I love. Alright, let's do this. Scroll down to read the post (I had to hide it so the babies wouldn't barf all ober dere widdle compooters). Scroll down down down...





















It was but 6 months ago that I used to enjoy watching zit-popping videos on YouTube. Between my best friend teaching me about the Revlon 13x magnifying suction mirror, or searching YouTube for up-close clips of massive throbbing boils being punctured with kitchen knives, I was enjoying gross acne on the regular. But have you found that YouTube zit-popping videos have become de rigueur? You know what - I'm just going to come out and say it: zit-popping videos have jumped the shark. And you know my favourite equation:So I'm going to introduce you to something that the "Normies" haven't found out about yet (don't worry about talking loud - they're too busy quoting Borat).

I have a lot of maladies: eczema, mental illness (aka The Krazies), allergies of all kinds, balance problems, etc etc. I'm walking pathetic. But I also have Tonsilloliths. I'd say I 'suffer' from it, but that's not true - I LOVE having tonsilloliths! I'm sure you're sitting there thinking "WT-Fuck are tonsilloliths?" and that is a very good question. Up until about 2 years ago, I had no idea what they were called either. Now, you could go ahead and click that link above (which will take you to the Wiki page, and it's quite in-depth) but I prefer this little visual tutorial:

The best part is at 1:08 when the woman stumbles through the word antibiotics. Fantastic. It's like they had one take to record the copy. "No mistakes! Keep going!" But yeah, do you sort of get what they are now? Let's me fill you in on some insider jargon about tonsilloliths. We (those who have them) don't call them by their full name. We have a billion nicknames for then: tonsil stones, throat nuggets, stink balls, stink pearls. But my sister and I refer to them as Poo Nuggets. Why? It's simple - when you crush them, they literally smell like feces. It's disgusting. Imagine, if you will, you picked up dogshit with your bare hands and let it dry. Then someone took a heat-gun to your hand and wafted the fumes towards your face. Now intensify that smell with NASA technology and you have about 1/10th of the smell. It's horrifying (and yet, I don't have bad breath. I can't explain that). And to add insult to injury, they can become dislodged at anytime; my worst fear is that I will be making out with a boy and I will spit one out (well, that and farting in my sleep with someone next to me. These are my fears. You're welcome). So you know that they are small, calcified pieces of stinky kernels. But what do they look like? Ladies and gentlemen, a very close-up video of Poo Nugget removal:

Gross!!!! Did you see that?!!? You have to remove them with a tool! Although my sister is a pro - she can just stick her finger down her throat and they all come up like mice following a piper. Now, these are very white, which could just be the lighting, but poo nuggets come in many colours (just like animatronics in It's A Small World). Mine are typically off-white, my sister's are pale green. I have seen ones that are a mix of yellow and brown. And, like people, they come in very different sizes: small and round, thick and lumpy, clumpy, singles. Have I thoroughly grossed you out yet?

This next clip is very similar to what mine look like. I usually have 1 or 2 at a time, and they aren't earth-shatteringly huge. But the sound that the woman makes as she extracts it is EXACTLY how I sound when I am extracting mine. I have been domashizing these little fuckers for about 7 or 8 years now and I'm still not used to them. Every time one comes out I scream like an old lady seeing a mouse in her kitchen (complete with standing on a chair and clutching my apron).

So there you have it. This was such an in-depth and scientific article, I feel like I could get my PhD in science. Dear Nobel Prize committee - you should start engraving my trophy right now.

My favourite discount beauty chola is back!

I was sitting on my couch eating jello today (pfft...what else is new) and I thought to myself "Hey, I haven't taken a look at my favourite YouTube channel in a while". So I skipped on over to Beauty Bargain Hunter (aka Daniela the Beauty Chola). Suddenly God parted the clouds, my radio began playing the theme from Welcome Back Kotter, and I was gifted with a new video on using spoiled and/or expired make-up to my advantage. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The JLo's Jenny From the Block-ish Dollar Store Look.

In case you don't have the time to watch the video (umm...what do you have to do that is better than learning how to apply a whore's worth of makeup?) I will paraphrase it for you. Daniela has once again plugged in her IKEA desk-lamp to illuminate her Grace Kelly-face to show us how to re-create Jennifer Lopez's timeless look from the "Jenny from the Block" music video. I know! Everyday I wonder how to look like a Latina McDonalds employee too! Fantastic. Such a storyteller. Such...cholita eyebrows. Here are some of my favourite parts:

1. Daniela is Spanish (or Me-hee-can? Or Puerto Rican? I dunno, but she definitely knows her way around a Taco Bell) and yet she's whiter than the child I would produce if I had sex with Casper the Friendly Ghost. Go easy on the pressed powder girl; you look like sidewalk chalk with eyes and a weave.

2. "It's been like, 5 years". I love that she acknowledges that she is replicating a look that is 1/2 a decade old. She just saved me from thinking of a fresh joke!

3. At 3:45, she pulls out a jar of makeup that looks like the expiry date on the underside begins with the number 19 and ends in the number 93. Look, I'm not fronting like I own all-new makeup and shit; I have a tube of MAC lip-gloss that my best friend bought for our prom in 2002. I use it even though it smells like peanuts. But I know enough to throw something out once it hits the "not even a meth-addicted, A&E Intervention subject would use this" mark.

4. Daniela, it has been my experience that if eyeshadow is 4 for $1, then there is a very good chance you will find lead in the ingredients list.

5. At 6:45 Daniela shows us her very rare, very exotic import eyeshadow from Rite Aid. Oooh, it's from Canada! People, I can promise you that I have lived here all my life and I have never seen that kind of makeup. Maybe it's because I don't buy my cosmetics at garage sales, but that's probably just a technicality.

6. At 13:00 Daniela commits a makeup sin that I am not innocent of: concealer on the lips. Well, I used to use foundation, but that is neither here nor there (and then I used to put clear lipgloss over it. Ew).

7. And finally, at the end, we have a very eloquent Daniela explaining what Spring allergies do (answer: "they make green which makes the eyes red").

I'm sorry, but I see nothing wrong with this illustration AND I WILL PROVE IT, YOU DOUBTERS.

Click to make big. You're going to want to enlarge this sucker in order to really take-in all its wince-inducing sexism.

Okay, so now that you've read this adorable little illustration from a 30 year old children's book, I can only imagine you are sitting at your computer doing one of two things.

a) Fuming (if you're a lady)
b) Laughing (if you're a guy)

And I get it - sexism is rough. I don't like the fact that men still get paid more than women (look it up), but I also understand that women = men. Yep, I said it. Sorry militant feminists! But it's true - I mean, save for the fact that it's men who fight to take abortions away from women (which is just such a bizarre concept to me) but honestly? Ever demographic of people have something to complain about:

Homos: "I want to get married but dickbag straights don't want me to"
Seniors: "I fought for this country is dubya-dubya-two and don't get nearly enough pension"
Mexicans: "White people have usurped burritos and have made them trendy"

The only people who don't have shit to complain about is babies, and that's only because they can't actually complain with words. So there. Now on to that picture I was talking about. When I first saw it, I was like "Awww...sexism. How quaint". But then I went "Wait a second; those descriptions of men vs. women aren't that far off the mark..."

1. Boys are pilots, Girls are stewardesses.
When I was flying to Florida last month, I was on a total of 4 planes. On each flight, my pilots were dudes, and the woman offering me a crisp, refreshing Sierra Mist was a lady.
WIN

2. Boys are presidents, Girls are First Ladies.
Yep. Still true.
WIN

3. Boys are doctors, Girls are nurses.
In general, there are more lady nurses than there are male nurses (honestly, when's the last time you snickered at the term Male Nurse? It was probably just now, wasn't it.) but that doctor ratio is now about 1:1. So while I want to say that it's a 1/2 WIN, I'm going to have to lean to the side of...
FAIL

4. Boys are police men, Girls are metermaids.
What the fuck is a meter maid? But seriously, most cops are dudes.
WIN

5. Boys can eat, Girls can cook.
Is this a good time to mention that 4 of the 5 Iron Chefs are guys? Plus, I can't cook eggs. So as much as I want to prove this one right, I just can't!!
FAIL

6. Boys build houses, Girls keep houses.
Go grab a phone book and search for contractors. Now call every number and write down whether the voice on the phone is that of a man or a woman. Now do the same for housekeepers. Really, go ahead. I'll wait. I have time.
WIN

7. Boys invent things, Girls use what boys invent.
I did a bit of research for this one and realized that the term inventor in the 70s is pretty much what engineer is in the 00s. BUT that's not what they're asking; we're specifically talking about inventors. So real quick - name 3 famous inventors. I'm willing to accept any of the following: Billy Mays, Ron Popeil, ShamWow Vince.
WIN

8. Boys fix things, Girls need things fixed.
Here's a cute anecdote: I bought a kitchen table from Value Village for $8. Clearly an $8 table from a second-hand store isn't going to come with all the necessary screws and parts. I took it home and called my friend Matt, who came over, took some measurements, and is currently fixing my table. Here's another story: this girl I knew got pregnant, so her boyfriend proposed to her. You see where I'm going with this one?
WIN

ANTM Cycle 12, Episode 7: Boys don't make passes...

I'm leading into this week's post with Natalie's picture, because we don't have any comments about her this week. Well, I think I made a snark about Natalie having so many moles, she looks like a Dollar Store Connect-the-Dots, but all in all, she was but a blip on our radar.

TY: Ciara? Refresh me all knowing one.

THE MAYOR: She's a poor-mans Rihanna.

TY: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh right! I forgot - last week's preview. Right. Are the CoverGirl commercials ever not a disaster? Why is that a point of interest - it's always like watching a Downs Syndrome talent show. Also, I vote for the Aikster to replace Paula.

THE MAYOR: Me too! Clay was so good!

TY: He'll add to the failing demographic of overweight, slightly racist pain killer addicted divorcees. ANTM is losing that audience.

THE MAYOR: "I have to think of sex to get a good picture" – EW EW EW.

TY: So London has to think of me when she needs a good picture?

THE MAYOR: Ahahahaa - London thinks of an Arby's Big Beef n' Cheddar or 12. Street Preaching? Uh oh. London's getting God-y.

TY: I don't think Teyona could ever get her head caught between the railings and need to margarine it up to get it out.

THE MAYOR: I love that Full House episode. Also, Fo? "Trying to strive to win"? That's like saying "I'm going to try to try". Sidebar - Sutan knitting is ADORABLE!!

TY: Is he going to knit an 'I'm Gayer than Clay' handkerchief to wear next week?

THE MAYOR: How did London gain that much weight in such a short amount of time? Crudely-Photoshopped-Jpeg of London's-Head-on-Beth Ditto's-Body ENHANCE:
TY: Why doesn't one of them burn the other with a flat iron? We need some damn scars on the show!

THE MAYOR: ...because we don't need another Tahlia? PS - you can't get with London - she's saving herself till marriage, and then you only get to do it when you want to produce kids.

TY: Saving herself by eating until she's too unattractive to warrant the attention of suitors like myself? That move explains at least three uber Christians from High School.

THE MAYOR: South Pole Jr = Urban Chic? Um...no? South Pole is for broke-ass wannabe thugs.

TY: South Pole = stuff that punk ass pussies steal from Stitches cause they're too scared to steal Sean John.

THE MAYOR: Oh snap, 5:30 am? That's cold! AHAHAHAHAHA - LOOK AT CELIA'S GAM-GAM GLASSES!!!!

TY: Woodland creature - I couldn't have described Allison better.

THE MAYOR: Ciara IS NOT an icon. Didn't she sing fucking...1-2-step and My Goodies?

TY: Sooooo....does anyone see this shoot not working out for Celia? I mean, she'll get her prosthetic hips all caught in the wire.
THE MAYOR: Ahahahah - Celia's like "I like R&B...Dorothy Dandridge is the bee's knees!"

TY: “How's that fella M.C. Phillips Screwdriver doing?”

THE MAYOR: Holy shit...London got back - Boys don't make passes at girls with fat asses. Well...white guys, at least.

TY: Boys come in masses for girls with fat asses.

THE MAYOR: White trash boys slap the asses of girls who pass gasses.

TY: Ha! Well played! I would tell all of my classes if I could get up in London's fat asses. I suppose she only has one ass…

THE MAYOR: Whoah! Are you seeing this! I'm so glad I don't have a HDTV. Teyona is GOOD. She's bound to get Best Picture this week.
TY: I feel like I could paint a really nice picture on Teyona's forehead.

THE MAYOR: Fo looks like she's pushing out a butt nugget.

TY: Butt nugget. Do the Denver Nuggets have the best name in sports? Cause I think so.

THE MAYOR: God put me here for a reason? Um, no. God has better things to do than play puppet master on a shitty modeling competition.

TY: When is London going to begin introducing Mr. Middle Finger to Mrs. Esophagus and secretly tell Mr. Finger that Mrs. Esophagus loves the rough stuff (the safety word is tonsil).

THE MAYOR: London needs to stop dressing like a Hipster and start hanging out with Hipsters. Good lord, that's enough to make anyone turn Anorexic; everyone so preetty and skeeny!

TY: Big ass peanut – classy. Was that a dig at London?

THE MAYOR: Tyra loves nuts. There's no double-entendre in there- the woman loves Planters.

TY: Aminat's shot looks like Ciara's vag has a bitch growing out of it.
THE MAYOR: I can't believe they're going to Brazil. It's one of my favourite movies!OMG He just called her June Cleaver. Solid Gold Dancer.

TY: Like....June Clever now, in 2009.

THE MAYOR: Teyona is killing it this week.

TY: Yeh - she is. Fo's picture is hoooooottttt.
THE MAYOR: London's eyes permanently smile...because she's always thinking of cheeseburgers. Like Jughead! That wacky Riverdalian - he loved cheeseburgers so much.
TY: Allison looks like she needs some courage. You know, cause she's the cowardly lion.

THE MAYOR: Nigel just said "I want to put my mark on her photo". The Tyra Borderline-Racism Count just rolled over at the 200 mark: Good job, Tyra. Brazil is just "samba-land" to you, isn't it.

TY: Is Ceila going to get a sunburn?

THE MAYOR: No, cause she'll wear one of those head-to-toe white gauze suits seniors in Florida wear.

TY: I get an assist on that - I dropped a sweet dime with that grammy reference.

THE MAYOR: We're like the Denver Nuggets. "Captured on celluloid" - you mean cellulite. Good job, Aminat - you squeaked by because you didn't gain a buttload of weight.

TY: Way to not eat.

THE MAYOR: Oh man - poor London. Fo is totally going home next week! That, or she'll get best picture or something.

TY: Or get stolen in Sao Paulo.

THE MAYOR: You don't go home, you just get sold into the sex trade.

The Last Corner Gas EVER.

First off, a very big Herpes Birthday to two very special (important, not olympics) individuals today! B-Day wishes go out to my Uncle Fester and LJ in Vancouver. Both are 86 today. Enjoy the Metamucil! Now on to today's post...

Former Kids in the Hall and SNL alumn Mark McKinney suggested that Canadian television would henceforth be divided into two distinct eras: before Corner Gas and after Corner Gas.

And if you aren't Canadian, then you have no effing idea what that means.

But if you are Canadian, then you know that today is a very sad day. Last night was the series finale of Corner Gas, probably the most profoundly groundbreaking Canadian sitcom...well...ever. Never has a Canadian television seen the popularity that Brent Butt and the citizens of Dog River; I mean, people actually watched it. Every week! And not out of irony, either - people actually watched Corner Gas because it was funny. I mean, the opening theme isn't funny, but worth a watch anyways...

To be brief, Corner Gas is a show about Brent Leroy (Brent Butt, who before the show was a fairly successful stand-up comic) who owns Corner Gas (the only gas station in the middle of the Canadian prairies). Pretty basic, eh? Nothing else. No magic talking dog. No wacky immigrant neighbor. It's just a small town with a bunch of people. Despite the multitude of secondary characters and guest stars, but there are 8 main characters who are on every episode of Corner Gas. From left to right:
Lacey (owns the cafe next to Corner Gas, The Ruby. She likes Brent, but will never tell him. He also likes Lacey and believes he is the hottest guy in town). Brent (we have already talked about him). Hank (this is Brent's best friend. He is borderline retarded. While he has never been tested, I believe Hank may be eligible for the Special Olympics). Oscar Leroy (this is Brent's father. He is starting to become senile and he calls everything and everyone a jackass). Emma Leroy (this is Brent's mother. She is very smart and knits a lot). Wanda (works at Corner Gas with Brent. She has a son that no one has ever seen on the show. She is a smartass and always wears t-shirts over long sleeve shirts). Karen and Davis (they are the only cops in town. Davis is almost as retarded as Hank and Karen is smart but writes people up for the littlest things).

Anyways, in case you have been under a rock for the past 6 years, here are a few clips that should give you an idea of the sort of caliber of humor we were treated to week after week.

In this clip we see Davis trying to call the coach of the baseball team and he gets Kiefer Sutherland instead. Yes, drunk, belligerent, unnecessarily aggressive Kiefer Sutherland.


In this clip we get a good idea of how naive Lacey is, how smart Emma is, and why turtles are cute. Best part? 1:10 to 1:15. I wish that could be my ring-tone.


This clip show how much of a crotchety old man Oscar is.


More proof that Hank is functionally retarded.

Okay, so did you watch last night?? It was pretty good!
SPOLERS AHEAD! So stop reading if you missed it because you were too busy watching Dancing with the Stars.
The episode starts with Wanda wondering where Brent goes every Wednesday night. They ask him and he tells them to mind their own damn business. Lacey asks if he's seeing a lady, and he doesn't deny it, so she spreads a rumour that he has a woman. Wanda says he can't be seeing a woman, because he hasn't gone on a date since Grade 11 and he's now saving himself for Catwoman. They decide to trail him the next Wednesday and he drives to the city. I'm suspecting Regina? Saskatoon? What's the city in Saskatchewan? I dunno. Anyways, Karen, Davis, Wanda, Hank, and Lacey all follow him to the city. It turns out he's been doing stand-up comedy every week, and people really like him. They congratulate him on a job well done, except Karen and Davis, who are bummed that they weren't included in his act. They return to Dog River and Hank decides to become part of Brent's entourage, which involves him wearing sunglasses and leaving messages for himself on his cellphone. Wanda starts encouraging Brent to chase his dream, only so that she can take over Corner Gas. Emma starts to worry that showbiz will turn into an alcoholic or a drug addict.
Cut to Lacey getting a phone call from a club owner (who wants him to go on a comedy tour) and Emma tells her that if she doesn't give him the message, then he'll never leave. Emma wants him to settle down and Oscar wants him to follow his dreams (aka stand on stage in a bucket of yogurt). Lacey tells Brent and he goes to call the agent. Brent comes to the Ruby and they throw him a going-away party, at which point he tells them he's not going; he doesn't want to go on the tour. He pulls out a list and says that stand-up comedy was just something on a list of things to try. It ends with footnotes on what every character is doing post-show. Lacey opens a Ruby in Wullerton (which gets shut down by the health department), Oscar keeps saying jackass, Hank remains unemployed, Karen and Davis get married (but not to each other), and Brent goes fly fishing. Cop-out? A bit I guess. But then again, it's how the show should end. Nothing crazy, nothing out of place.

Goodbye Corner Gas, I'll miss you!

This may be my favourite video of the year.

Okay, seriously? I think I want to be this lady for Halloween. You need to watch this video (it's totally SFW). Click here to watch it (would have embedded it, but some people are weiners)...and Happy Monday!

ANTM Cycle 12, Episode 6: Burn, Baby, Burn

Hey kids!! We're back again, beating down another episode like it owes us money. And in the words of one very astute reader:

Ughh, seriously this is turning into America's Next 'Bargain World' flyer model. (Sears would be too high end).

Very true! This is more low-rent than that time I lived in the housing projects (I was just trying to get back on my feet again is all!!) And a bit of sad news - since this week was the Cover Girl commercial shoot week, we don't have any pictures (LAME!) so I went through and peppered in some screen grabs. So are you ready to read what transcribed between TyTy and I? Like I always say...LET'S DO THIS!

TY: Should I mention that I'm surrounded by more empty beer bottles than boobs I've touched in the last half a year? My television looks like it could probably buy a 5th of whiskey without being I.D., yet the bare walls, guitar cases and original NES would have trouble getting into The Chronicles of Narnia.

THE MAYOR: I'm in my old-ass Victorian cottage (I live on the water) and the area above my head smells. I got a massive leak in the plaster and when it rains, it stinks. Brb - I need to make some Kraft Dinner.

TY: I was going to make that! Sooooooo....I've just been reminded of how bad last week's episode was - Sandra really looked like she was on a gang-bang set as the target...gross. Sweeeeeeeet Jesus - Celia making horse faces is going to scare not just me, but my children's children. Why edit that in? Whoa - Scrunchy just used the word whack. She sounds like Aunt Vivian. You know, cause she's from a nice community like Bel-Air.

THE MAYOR: Did you see Fo strut????

TY: Yeh - I loved that.

THE MAYOR: FUCK!!!! I left my noodles on too long and now they're wormy. I just dumped them in the garbage. Oh Aminat - always the hoodrat.

TY: Does Paula act? Is that her thing? I don't remember her in Pret a Porter or whatever that movie was that gave me a boner when they walked out totally naked for the last fashion show.

THE MAYOR: Yes!!! Scrunchy just got told off!!

TY: I wish scrunchy wasn't so good.

THE MAYOR: Poor Burny - I feel so embarrassed for her.

TY: This is awkward - like, walking in on your roommate dumping type awkward.

THE MAYOR: What? you've done that? When I lived with my sister, I'm sure we never closed the door whilst dumping.

TY: No - but one time my VP walked in on me dumping.

THE MAYOR: AHAHAHAHAHA that's so gross!!! Boy dumps are always terrifying.

TY: They are - for good reason.

THE MAYOR: CLAY GAYKEN!!!!!!

TY: Speaking of ewwww...Has the Aikster put on some pounds?

THE MAYOR: Pounds? You mean tonnes. Aminat is okay.

TY: Yeh - this would be better if they were shittier.
THE MAYOR: Fo is TERRIBLE. Oh wait...I spoke too soon. Tahlia!

TY: Whoa - Burny.

THE MAYOR: London won. Meh.
I know this image is as old as the hills, but it was the only one that lent itself niceley to Microsoft Paint.

TY: DAMN. She has weight issues - I can play on that. I'll make her feel beautiful (that's the creepiest thing a guy could ever say, yes?)

THE MAYOR: You just molested me with your words. Good Jerb. Allison reminds me of the anorexic girl from Drop Dead Gorgeous.
TY: Good call.

THE MAYOR: Celia needs some of that age-reducing makeup.

TY: You mean shriveled ghost face reducing makeup?

THE MAYOR: She looks like Madonna, pre-airbrushing.
TY: Why can't they suck more? Wait......Wind Tunnel.

THE MAYOR: Aminat looks like she's filming a commercial for 1-900-Evil Bitch.

TY: You can take the Aminat out of the ghetto, but you can't take the....blah blah.
Burny needs to get rid of a lot more.....like the topographical map of acne on her forehead.

THE MAYOR: OF COURSE TAHLIA LIKES FULL COVERAGE!!!!

TY: CAN'T WATCH!!!!! I can almost feel the sweat running through her burn scars.

THE MAYOR: Fuck, Celia, put away that wig! You look like a damn fool!

TY: She looks like everything that is wrong with the world all rolled up into a piece of parchment, left out in the sun for a week while being pooped on by pigeons and then flattened out by the same iron that Tahlia feels serious anxiety about using every day. So who's going home? I bet a 5 alarm fire that it's Burny.

THE MAYOR: Tahlia is defs taking her stitchy ass back to a creepy Texas farmhouse (get it? She's Leatherface).

STEP OFF BITCH!

Oooh, you know this shit makes my blood boil. Seeing my man, Jonah Hill, prancing (well...shuffling) around LA with this Mayor-wannabe trick is enough to make me call up my best girls Vanna, Bernie, and Glo and shout through the phone OH NO HE DI'ANT!! How could my beautiful land-manatee do this to me? I know he got all screw-faced when I wrote about my love for that Craigslist Thug, but come on - he knew I was just joking! Don't take it personal baby, we still cool!!!

But surriously, homegirl is a straight-up Waffle Digger. She's just with you till you make Superbad 2...but when you get on, she leave yo' ass for a white girl (aka Michael Cera). Then who you gon' crawl back to, hmmm? This one? I might be with Jason Segel by then. How you like me now, huh? Leave yo moobs for some lumpy-ass freckles who was on Freaks & Geeks, you no-talent one-note bitch! You heard me!

Awww baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. You are still the love of my life.

Oh Craigslist...Thank You.

I know I joke about being single all the time, but truthfully - I do it to myself. There is a good reason I'm sitting her in a very lonely double-bed, listening to talk radio and typing out this post. And you know what? I'm not complaining. I've always been a bit of a loner; I like reading by myself and I like watching movies by myself. I think I could honestly live alone for the rest of my life. I have seen other people do it and, quite frankly, these are the happiest people I know. Plus, I like to listen to talk radio in my underwear, and I don't need someone to keep asking me to put pants on or to sit with my legs closed.

But there comes a time when you sit back and stare at 3 of your 5 cats, and feel your withered, raisin-like eggs drops from your ovaries, and it's nearly impossible to hear your own thoughts because they are being drowned out by the constant ticking of the metronome that is your biological clock, and you say to yourself "Hey self, I think it's time to settle down and find a man". So I did what any normal girl does; I went to Craigslist and perused their Men seeking Women section. Obviously, right?

Well, I don't know if it was a case of right-place/right-time, or if Jesus himself climbed off his mountain of kittens and decided to give me a little help, but look at the amazing post I found. The title alone gave chills.

Swoon! It's like Cupid forged a bow from old Starter Jackets and dipped the arrow in St. Ides, then aimed at my heart. I knew it was meant to be, so I clicked on it right away.

Recently served some jail time down in the states for weed possession and armed robbery. Looking for a girl in Toronto that is down for hers....I aint gonna lie, it's been tough since i got out and going back into a life a crime is always on my mind, but I've been straight since i got out....Been basically serving myself and finding anyway to satisfy my needs. Whether that be giving myself strangers, doing TP rolls or getting into yoga so that i can kiss my tip....I just wanna find my soulmate and someone i can connect with. Emotionally, physically, spiritually and thuggishly. Ya heard?

Ain't love grand?!? I've been floating around on Cloud 9 for days now, and I really don't think I'll ever come down. You know...I used to read Romeo & Juliet (well...watched Romeo & Juliet) and I never really understood the weight of it all. Now I can't imagine my life without this person, this angel. But I hadn't gotten to his picture yet - what if he wasn't the beautiful manifestation of love that I had created in my mind? Would I still love him? Could I train my heart to re-fall in love?

Hark, what light through yonder trailer window breaks! It is the east, and this guy in an LA beanie is the sun! I am short of breath - I can barely look at his stunning face without my stomach tying itself up in knots. In my dreams, I can touch his face. Squinty, hat-covered eyes - like cool, deep pools of prison urine. Those aggressively tight-lips; what mysteries his mouth contains! Is there a full set of teeth? Do they look like little corn kernels, the result of the USA federal prison dental system? Shoulders that boast years of reckless steroid abuse; I can only imagine how small and shriveled his testicles must be. Double swoon!

I can only imagine what our first date would be like. He would show up to my house in his rusty '95 Toyota Tercel, furiously honking the horn as if to say "Come out my love! I am here!" I would emerge, probably over-dressed, and would climb into the front seat. He would smell like an intoxicating mix of weed, Red Bull, sour milk, AXE bodyspray, and gum. Fresh breath - what a romantic! From there, he would ask me how much money I have and what kind of restaurants are in my price range. I wouldn't want to pick something too fancy - I'm just a burger and fries kind of gal! So we'd go to McDonalds. He'd order a McSurf-n-Turf (a Fillet O' Fish inside a Quarter Pounder) and would tell me to order him a large Coke (he brought his own rum. So thrifty!) We'd feed each other fries, until he gets a phone call from his friend Dylon or Windex, and then he'd excuse himself to "take care of business". He's such a go-getter!

After about an hour I'd start to toy with the idea of leaving, as there is a 50/50 chance he's not coming back. But I won't want to seem rude, so I'll probably wait it out for another hour. After that, if he hasn't come back, I'll try to find a cab or a street car and make my way home. Around 4am I'll get a call from him (Spontaneous!!!) and he'll tell me he's in my driveway and he needs a place to crash. When I get to the door, he will have a kid with him that he addresses solely as "he's a good guy. Don't pay no nevermind to him" and I will let the two of them sleep in my bed while I take the couch. In the morning I will make them eggs and he will tell me the two of them want cereal, and I will let them know that I don't actually have any cereal, so he suggests going out for breakfast. I will need a bit more time to get ready (women, right?! It's in our genes!) but by the time I get out to the car, they've already gone. Sigh - he's probably just out planning a super-romantic surprise for me.

TRUE LOVE - can you beat it?!!?

To view the original ad, click here. But I swear to god, if any of you email him, I will find you! Step off, bitch, he's mine!!!

Stuff WASP-people Like

In previous posts I have spoke candidly about my genetic make-up; my "background" if you will. That's typically a term I hate; background. It really is just a gentler way of saying race, don't you think? Nobody would come right out and say "That's an odd last name. If you don't mind me asking, what race are you?" because that would be weird. So asking about 'background' makes it safe and very "Oh, who me? I'm just curious to know which of your parents is Asian, is all".

Anyways, you all know I'm 1/2 Polish (the typos are a dead give-away. Hey-O!) and 1/2 WASP. For those of you who are picturing my father having sex with a Yellowjacket, you can stop now. Allow me to explain what a WASP is (and don't laugh...my Jewish roomate had no idea either. She immediately thought of the insect too).

WASP is an acronym for White Anglo-Saxon Protestant. Let me break that down even further:
White - we obviously know what that means.
Anglo-Saxon - groups of people descended from the English
Protestant - a Christian who isn't a Catholic or a Bible-thumping zealot. This can include people who are Presbyterian (aka Me).

So what's the difference between a WASP and, oh let's say, an Irish Catholic? Or a German Baptist? Two words: Jello Salads. WASPs love Jello Salads. It's in our blood; we've all made them and fucking LOVED them. Don't act like you've never lusted after pineapple and walnuts in lime jello, it's scrumptious. And we are constantly trying to contemporize that shit too! "Look, I added organic Bing cherries!" "I used lemon jello and added real citrus zest!" Nuh-uh, girlfriend, you aren't fooling anyone. A jello salad is a jello salad. But what is a jello salad? That's like asking "what does God's face look like" or "how many chee-hooa-hooas does Mickey Rourke own"; it's a rhetorical question. A jello salad is whatever you want it to be. But we do have a few simple rules (we are WASPs after all - we love rules):

1. Thine jello salad shalt not be grape in flavour.
Anyone who makes a jello salad with grape jello is asking for trouble. Grape jello is for shots, not salad.

2. Thine jello salad must have some weird shit in it.
Shrimp is a common gag-inducer. So is imitation crab meat. But if you really want to make someone vomit, you should try the onion/fruit jello combo. Yes. Chopped onions in lime or cherry jello. I mean, take a look at this Jello ad from the 60s:Ooh! What a cornucopia of flavours! I see celery and olives and...is that cheese? Also, did you know that Jello used to have 'salad specific' flavours? It's true - Celery, Italian, Mixed Vegetable, and Tomato are sadly no longer available. Whaaa? I can only imagine how delicious celery-flavoured Jello would taste!

3. When in doubt, Ambrosia will do.
If you can't get your hands on some sweet sweet jello, then you can always make an ambrosia salad. It's just as WASPy and just as gross. It's basically sour cream, whipped cream, marshmallows, cherries, mandarin oranges, coconut.

Mmmmm...aren't you getting hungry? I could go for a jello salad and an egg salad sandwich right now (the ultimate in WASPy after-church lunches).

Further proof of my nerdiness:

A graph I made was selected at GraphJam. G'head, check it out; it's fairly clever I think.

xo The Mayor

ANTM Cycle 12, Episode 5: Live Blogging!!

Okay! So just like the title says, Ty and I liveblogged last night's episode, and it turned out great! We went back and forth via Google Chat (thanks, Google Chat, for being foolproof!) and below you will find the 60 minute transcript. Now, we're just trying this shit out, so if you absolutely hate it, let us know and we'll go back to the old format. But, if I may be frank, this way is much easier and provides for a nice back-and-forth that we don't necessarily get from the standard Picture > Ty Quote > Mayor Quote format. Here we go! Try to keep up, sometimes we get a bit off-topic.

TY: Where's Michael Jackson when we need him? Race war!
MAYOR: I know! How black is Tahlia? Is she even black?! She probably like, 1/8th Puerto Rican.
TY: Umm...maybe the burns tanned her - makes sense, right?
MAYOR: I wanted to write about Aminat and the OBG (other black girl) getting all yelpy, but I couldn't remember her name. Not a good sign.


TY: Her name is Windtunnel.
MAYOR: Celia's "mystery" is more like "Gam-gam having trouble passing a BM". Sandra's "mystery" is like Wesley Snipes...uh...can't think of a joke.
TY: …is like Snipes trying to add up his taxes?
MAYOR: Tax joke - good one. It's the Fall Guy of Wesley Snipes jokes. FUCK, cut outs?! What is this, the carnival scene from Grease?!
TY: I'm in there (like swimwear - but not the one-piece that Celia wears, with the little skirt around the waist). How much more egotistical can Tyra get?
MAYOR: Celia is dressing more and more like Benjamin Buttons.
TY: I think she read the last column.
MAYOR: Fuck, Natalie? Ugh, she is a straight-up scunt.


TY: I bet she has a big mole on one of her labias.
MAYOR: EW! Too far!!!
TY: Burny is about to pig-out again.
MAYOR: She's gonna get burns-deep in a bag of Doritos.
TY: Celia's eyebrows look like a 14-year-old boy's moustache.
MAYOR: I know Celia really wants this "androgynous hag" shtick to work, but it's coming across as "poor man's middle-age lesbian history teacher"…or "DJ Turn-of-the-Century Dykemarch", if you will.
TY: So the black photographer shot the ebony cover of Tyra? Weird.
MAYOR: Allison looks "special".


TY: Emote a colour. Is Aminat doing a Degree commercial?


MAYOR: She WISHES she could book a job as lucrative as a Degree commercial. Fo goodness sakes, Fo looks like a tampon.


TY: Sandra looks like your weekend for reals. She looks like what would happen if she slept with an art director / porn star.
MAYOR: Of course Celia is grey!


TY: That must have been a tough call; it was either that or that weird yellow / green that fridges and stoves were coloured in. You know, back in the day.
MAYOR: I'm surprise they didn't make her 'tweed' or 'bright copper kettle'
TY: Black would have offended her. Maybe Wheel of Fortune sparkle green would have worked.
MAYOR: Is there a colour for ‘back pills’?
TY: There should be; or ‘liver spot brown’.
MAYOR: I know who Celia reminds me of! Uncle Lewis from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation!
TY: Yes!
MAYOR: "The outfit I'm going to buried in"?? Shit, she's writing her own jokes now. Celia's going to put me out of a job
TY: I think someone has hid her Boost - she looks like she's losing weight.
MAYOR: AHAHAHAHA - no no, Seniors like Ensure. Easy to digest.
TY: Right - my bad.
MAYOR: Tahlia? Volleyball? What is she, the ball? (Get it - leathery and stitchy? I'll let myself out)
TY: Maybe she wants Tom Hanks with a Beard to stick his aids dick in her WILSON!


MAYOR: AHAHAHAHAH rude!!!!
TY: 'I wanted to shoot you more'. I bet you hear that all the time.
MAYOR: Looks like Sandra will finally get the Straight to DVD treatment.


TY: Nice one. I agree - looks like Black Model's Can't Jump.
MAYOR: London is shitty - why is she still there? Also, Allison does look like a Bunny Rabbit
TY: She does. London is there because she's the one I'd most like to do it with.


MAYOR: What?! London has a dumpy horse butt. Also she has "Special Needs Panda" face.
TY: My money's on London going home to find me. If Celia gets the boot quick enough, she might make it back for J.A.G. Sandra's been Demolitioned, Man.

MAYOR: who has been messing with TyTy's money? Her wig-tape supplier?
TY: She must have some side business selling meth
MAYOR: Clay Fucking Aiken? Are you shitting me?? Tahlia just creamed her Mom Jeans.
TY: Tahlia was probably trying to hide her boner in her burn scars.
MAYOR: Celia was probably like "American Idol? Is that anything like my favourite Christian Hymnal Radiola Programme?"

End Scene! See you next week!!