Tuesday, September 29, 2009

"And He's Not That Dramatic"

Amidst the madness that was my life last week (including a finer moment where I pretended to be back in college and staged a revolt when my younger sister tried to make me leave a freshman football party--yeah, it was a sad day), I almost forgot to blog about my new favorite Fall comedy (and no, Glee does not count... It's in a category all of its own)! My new guilty pleasure? Modern Family. How do I know it's good? Well, like how I know anything is good: I peed my pants a little.

My favorite character by a far is the "cool dad," because, let's get real, aside from the one or two Rufus Humphrys of the world, there really is no such thing. This guy is completely confident that his parenting skills are supremely above those of any conservative father, yet his High School Musical song and dance routines prove otherwise. But in all seriousness, +100 reality points to the writers for this line: "LOL, laugh out loud; WTF, why the face." Yeah, that's about right.

Actually the hysterical reality of the entire show is its primary appeal. I mean, my dad never shot my first boyfriend, but he did send 3 cop cars to his house to lecture him on sexual harrassment. And while my parents never introduced me to the world in native dress with Elton John blasting in the background (please see below), they did put my baptism to music and play it at my 21st birthday party. So there you have it, folks; honest, humorous, and a whole lotta relatible.

Word of the Day: Doppelganger

A doppelgänger is the ghostly double of a living person, a sinister form of bilocation. In the vernacular, the word "doppelgänger" has come to refer (as in German) to any double or look-alike of a person. The word is also used to describe the sensation of having glimpsed oneself in peripheral vision, in a position where there is no chance that it could have been a reflection. They are generally regarded as harbingers of bad luck. In some traditions, a doppelgänger seen by a person's friends or relatives portends illness or danger, while seeing one's own doppelgänger is an omen of death, or results in immediate death upon the two coming face to face. In Norse mythology, a vardøger is a ghostly double who precedes a living person and is seen performing their actions in advance. - Wiki

Thank you, How I Met Your Mother, for bringing such a fun-to-say word to my vocabulary. In last night's episode, they touched upon the doppelgangers of each member of their group--GENIUS! Totes my new favorite word. Before "doppelganger" I tried to fit the word "spleen" into the everyday vernacular; yeah, that's not easy to do. Often times I would find myself having conversations like this:

Person: Hey LT, how's it hangin?
Me: Like a spleen


Person: How are ya?
Me: Pretty spleeny

In fact, I've already this morning referenced the word "doppelganger." Granted, it was for a set a twins walking on the street. Yeah... I'll get better eventually.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Walk of Shame or Stroll of Glory?

Spotted: Dan Humphry leaving Blairgina's room with an open shirt and tousled hair. Boys have no excuse for the walk of shame. Take a second to button up there, tiger.

Let's get real... if Gossip Girl is going to start doing walk of shames, they better do it right. Like the morning after Halloween when you hold your jasmine wig in your hands, eyeliner streaming down your face, and pair your genie pants with your bad-decision-from-the-night-before's Lax Power t-shirt (In good faith, I'll keep that culprit's name disclosed).

That wasn't the only walk of shame this episode, except Blairbear did it with a trench coat and million dollar lingerie. So hot. If I had Blair's bod, screw the trench coat; I'd walk around in my Agent Provocateur silk boy shorts and cami any day. Ugh, and of course Blair and Chuck would roll around on a dorm room floor incessantly checking their blackberries. In fact, they don't even need to talk in bed---they can dirty talk via bbm and it would be equally as sexy.

Speaking of the morning after... Scott, morning study groups? Really? I mean, we know you're only pretending to go to college, but let's try a little harder. The only thing I did in the morning was sleep, puke, walk of shame, or make a desperate Starbucks run in my PJs.

Oh, and one more thing: Carter, malts with one ice cube? Yeah... I'm sure that one cube makes a difference.

Awkward Laughter

Ahhhhhh--sweet release the return hath be upon us. Grey's premiered its 6th (holy crap) season on Thursday with a 2-hour tribute to George's recently-deceased character which was jam packed full of laughs! No... I'm not lying.

What's funnier than Izzy having a laugh attack over George's death, cancer, her friend getting choked out by her lover, or even the poor guilt-ridden sobbing redhead, is this whole "married on a post-it nonsense." Now this is too easy.

So is it safe for me to assume that by the powers vested by post-it, Meredith and Derek are betrothed under God? Well, that very well might be the most unsettling thing I've heard on Grey's thus far (and that includes penis fish).

If this is true, I can say with confidence that I've been married a good 48 times via the vat of love notes I've accumulated from my hopelessly romantic boyfriend, and THAT, friends, includes a leather-bound journal (I have to believe that leather is more legitimate than sticky paper). In fact, my friend probably got married this morning when her boyfriend met her at the train bearing a lengthy hallmark card and love bagel. Nothing says "I take thee" like carbs.

Let's not forget, either, that this isn't the first we've heard about the magical powers of the post-it. As Carrie Bradshaw learned, the post-it has the same ability to break up relationships as it does to consummate them. In that same respect, I have a piece of scrap paper with a song written for me on it by a scorned ex-lover where he more or less kills me leaving me "in a pool of blood." Does that mean that I could be killed via post-it? Hmm something to think about...

What did you see?

Forgive me, it's Monday. Had I written my post about this season's new blockbuster show, Flash Forward, I would be a little less speculative and cranky and a little more cheerleader. But as it is Monday, and I've had a whole weekend to mull over it with a cocktail or 20, I have a few objections:

1. Exactly what kind of super-charged crazy lives do all the show's characters lead that they can completely 180 their lives in 6 months time? And I'm not one to be questioning rapid change in short time either (I am credited with going from 108 lbs to 128 pounds in my first semester of college alone). Seriously though, in 6 months we know that one will have a hot sexy affair with a man she does not yet even know? Hell, it would take a wholeee lot longer than that to get me to meet, love, and sex up someone finer than Joseph Fiennes (he gave me the lady chubb of my life in Shakespeare in Love). ESPECIALLY when you're a doctor. They work, like what? 100 hour days? More suprisingly is that they can search all of the middle east to find a daughter that was once thought dead? That's a little quick.

What's not so surprising is that in 6 months time someone can get all crazy and jump back on the wagon. Speaking of which, may I just say that I love manic bulletin board crazy--it always beats the ripping hair out, head against the wall crazy.

I'm most interested in what slutty babysitter saw. Lord knows the writers probably get her knocked up, have her give birth, and raise a toddler in 6 months. Word to the writers: it takes 9 months to make a baby. I learned that from "The Miracle of Birth."

2. If the entire storyline is based on a flash that brings us to April 2010--that there is a storyline that ends in its first season. I guess ABC is getting pretty comfortable playing Dr. Kevorkian with their lineups. Now they pre-emptively end the show in its very own storyline.

I really shouldn't ask that question, however. We are talking about the creators of LOST here. Somehow I know they'll find a way and keep me hooked like a salmon (prettiest color for bedrooms; so relaxing). However, I can't get on-board yet with this whole "Flash is the new LOST" nonsense; maybe once they introduce Charlie we'll have something to debate about.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

My Boo, the Dancing Foo

I hadn't been a big DWTS regular until last season when the shows's genius execs decided to cast Melissa Rycroft after Jason Mesnick and his beard, Molly, decided to get it on. What kept me an avid fan? That glorious piece of man better known as Mark Ballas.

Hot damn the things I would do to him. When the boys opened the show on Monday night, my lady tickle nearly got the best of me. No wonder he's taken home the mirror ball for the past two seasons in a row--(not that I didn't used to vote for him until my fingers bled or anything. I would sure like his mirror balls). So yes, despite my negative lack of interest in any of the "stars" featured this year, he'll keep me hooked.

So some time last season I was at a bar, drunk as per the usual, and I see my candy Ballas bar from across the way... (So I was convinced). I then use this rare opportunity to showcase my dance skills, which sober are moderate yet drunk are INCREDIBLE; but isn't that always the case. In fact, I go so far as to whip out my super secret "balloon move" where I begin crouched on the dance floor and blow myself up. Well we all know where this story is going... He was instantaneously drawn to me and know we're happily married in a Penthouse apartment in the magical land of Narnia... Duh.

No Headbands in College...

...Says Dan Humphrey. Poor Blair Bear; but in all seriousness, WHAT is she doing at NYU? I know that her dreams of Yale were shot to shit, but homegirl should have picked up a Princeton Review.

Where do I think Blair should have went? Loyola College... Headbands welcome. Ok, I'm a little biased, but come'on! Now that is a school that would appreciate Toro and Tiffany's any day. Sure, Baltimore is no NYC, but every queen must start small.

"Dorms like palaces," "Looks like a catalogue," now these are the things Queen B is really concerned with. Aside from the fact that every girl walking the quad is a Blair clone, she'd be more than satisfied with the selection of trust fund babies for male suitors. Sushi on the meal plan? 5 star gym on campus? Ralph Lauren Loyola attire in the bookstore? Mani pedi shuttle busses? Come'on... Blair better put down the fake glasses and feminist literature and take a taste of the sweet collegiate life.

Now realistically, would a rooftop kegger and common room cocktail suare ever really happen in college? Well, maybe at Loyola... CERTAINLY not at NYU. But other than that, my deepest thanks and respect to the GG writers for keeping it relatively real this past episode. Of COURSE Blair would be a loser at NYU.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Doogie Does It

Second to pirates, my fetish is award shows. They may not be as obviously sexy as Jack Sparrow, but give me an award show, and I'll give you my all night long. Really... they're like really, really long...

Sunday night's Emmy Awards, however, were the perfectly time-proportioned mix of tasteful jokes, tinseltown glam, and NPH. Hats off to Doogie for his serious MC skills. Even my favorite people couldn't help but sing his praises: Justin, Jon Stewart, TINA, Christina Applegate... well actually... had Christina Applegate won as she SHOULD have, I'm sure she would have. RIP Samantha Who. Hold on... I'm actually crying real tears.

Now for the real winners... according to me. Yeah, it's legit:

Best Dress: Olivia Wilde
-1st Runner up: Anna Torv
-2nd Runner up: Blake Lively

Most Awesome Acceptance Speech: Kristin Chenowith
-1st Runner up: Jon Stewart
-2nd Runner up: The writing team from the Academy Awards opening number?

Most robbed of an Emmy: Christina Applegate
-1st Runner up: Christina Applegate
-2nd Runner up: Christina Applegate

So, there you have it. My superfan duty of supporting Samantha Who despite its untimely cancellation. Sooner or later I'll do the same for Dirty Sexy Money. Damn you, ABC.

(Editors Note: At the time this blog went to press I had not seen an entire episode of Modern Family, one of Samantha Who's replacement sitcoms. I retract the statement that I damn ABC. It was pretty hysterical)

Tales of the Body Snatchers

I decided to be a good daughter last Thursday night and put Project Runway on the back burner so that Pops could watch the premiere of Fringe. (I know... I'm a little late on this one. Some people spend their weekends being productive, saving the world; I spend mine in a vodka/food enduced coma). Now don't get me wrong, I have a pretty serious infatuation with JJ Abrams and his twisted psyche, but last week's body snatchers storyline was more outrageous than my reaction to Lady Gaga's VMA performance: hiding under the sofa for 12 hours with a night light and a bible.

It saddens me that Fringe's new timeslot will seriously cut off my weekly dose of Joshua Jackson and Anna Torv-- ESPECIALLY now that they should be gettin freaky soon (I HATE missing good TV sexytime). This show is going to be HUGE this season--know how I can tell? Anna Torv's incredible Emmy dress. An amazing dress is pretty much the key to everything.

Sigh; but there is a chocolate-covered coating to my strife: from tomorrow on out my Thursday nights will be devoted exclusively to dreamy, steamy, and weeny (Meredith, duh). That is of course if I can survive without George.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Divalicious definition make the host go loco

"Omigod... I saw Liza and nearly died"

Here I am... Sitting on the train, dreamily trying to live vicariously through my friend who had star quality seats at last night's Divas Live. From him I have a few items to report:
1. When you say "I love you" to Adele, she says it back. I could write something mean here, but seeing as it's happy friday, I'll simply smile and say "how sweet."
2. My girl Miley was unfortunately the only performer last night to pull an Ashlee Simpson. Another note, they seem to have lowered the diva-ing age a little to much this year. In my book, no one can be a Diva until they have boobs to flaunt and a man to torture. I still love Miles, though. She can do no wrong in my eyes.

And last but not least...

3. Paula was wasted. Shocker.

I think it was at the second note of "Opposites Attract" when I knew for sure that we were in for a rough night. Calling Kathy Griffin a firecrotch was pretty much a tell tale sign as well. Can't say I didn't love every second of THAT. Damn you Kathy Griffin.

The moral of the story here is that somewhere in hollywoodtown, Kara "heresths the thing" Diaguardi is cackaling to herself while rolling around in her American Idol paycheck which she no doubt cashed in for one dolla bills lil wheezy style. Hell that's what I would do if I secured that gig.

I bet right now Kara is practing the three phrases she's going to repeat like a broken record while simultaneously giving Simon a hand job.

Little does she know that there's no way she'll take Paula's seat next to Mr. Cowell. Simon would rather burn his bzillion dollar paychecks in Kathy Griffin's firecrotch than deal with that situation. Thank GOD for Ellen!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

More horse porn?

As I was exercising my Wednesday night ritual of not exercising and instead watching TV, I engaged in a bit of channel cheating (naughty) on FOX while watching SYTYCD and sneaking clips of this week's ANTM. So sue me... it's still the audition rounds.

My eyes did not deceive me--I got my 2nd dose of horse porn in one week of television. That's like 300% more horse porn than any person should EVER see on TV. This post is weird. I should stop saying horse porn.

But yes, there they were. All the "pocket sized" beauties (Oh... and by pocket-size I mean that the shortest by far is my size at 5'3. What a kick in the ego.) were topless, wearing ass-long hair extensions and rubbing their chi chis all over those poor beautiful animals. The only thing weirder than this concept is Tyra herself. It's impressive actually, I never thought that Tyra could get crazier but holy hell was I wrong.

This week Tyra dressed her crazy ass in a super-hero suit calling herself "Super Smize." She then proceeded to dress her minions up like the IO cable pixels and forced them to cover their faces and compete against each other by smiling with their eyes. Oh Ty TY, you never disappoint. Now let's take the time to reflect on one of your finest moments:


Wait... Kurt is Gay?

Sometimes I find that I love so many things--it's impossible to just shove all of that love into the mere 24 hours of a day. This is why I so appreciate the invention of items that combine the things I love... like grilled cheese, tinted moisturizer, the romper, blood orange margaritas, the snuggie, the puggle. Actually, I also REALLY like combining. I'll stop.

So you can understand my enthusiasm when I found the most perfect little television show that combines comedy, music, teen romance, and delicious high school satire; a show that in so many ways satiates my every sitcom need. If you haven't realized I'm talking about Glee yet, turn on a freakin television.

I'm pretty obsessed--so much so that's it's hard to pinpoint the things that I love... but I will...
Coach Sylvester and Kurt.

Speaking of Kurt, I'm a little confused about the last episode. We're talking about a kid that tried out for Glee club with "Mr. Cellophane" and wears double breasted cropped blazers to school... he really isn't out of the closet yet? Yeah... that's believable.

My favorite is how Mercedes goes as far as to pull a Britney and smash poor Kurty's windshield in when her love was unrequited. Hmm... girlfriend needs to quit Diva's Live and watch a few episodes of Will and Grace.

Heart Kurt! Heart this show! Yayyyyy Gleeeee!


Horse Porn

GG is back baby! In preparation for the sacred event I poured myself a dirty martini and watched my slideshow of Ed Westwick pictures to "Breathe On Me" on repeat. Ok, I didn't really... But I probably should. Jessica Szohr is one lucky bitch. First, she gets to touch no-no parts with Chuck Bass AND she has a fashion spread in Page Six magazine's re-debut issue! Ugh... Exactly why she must be my first item of discussion...

A)Ok, so Vanessa is about to start at NYU after being "cool and artsy" by homeschooling herself in all the years leading up to now. Regardless, there is no need for home girl to start wearing dreds. What was the up with the mop head? NOT a fan.

B) MO-ing with Dan's creepy half brother? I guess I could maybe get on board... IF he wasn't 8 feet shorter than her! Comeon casting dept... You should know that sometimes even Vanessa needs to wear heels.

C) The only good part of having a dude for a best friend is that there is NO need for super stalking. And heads up, Vanessa, Dan believes that more than you. Hell, that's what actual girlfriends are for. Step off already... it's embarassing.

Ok now that I've gotten that off my chest, let's talk about what made my heart smile ALL episode long... Blair and Chuck 2gether 4ever. HEART! Now this is the television relationship I've been waiting for my whole adult life: one that combines real love, wild sex, and Ed Westwick in a tuxedo. I totally had the pee-pee sensation all episode long.

I can't really say the same for Serena and her new found fetish with beastiality. "Look at me paparazzi" really? THIS is a storyline? I'm not going to be able to stand this much longer... I'm also not going to stand for the queezy feeling I get looking at Serena's facial expression while riding on the horse. Neighhhh.

Again... let's dwell on the positive. Ahhhhh love. Please see below.


Menage Tues

There are often times when my overzealous celbritity fetish has gotten the best of me. Most recently, during FNO (my new favorite day of the year; thanks, Vogue) I decided that I was going to spend 200 dollars on a pair of mediocre jeans (that I did NOT try on btw) so that I could be one of the lucky 150 ladies to meet/grope/MO with Justin Timberlake (I wasn't kidding about the overzealous thing... I truly believed all of those things were going to happen). As luck would have it, I was granted 2 VIP passes to my very own dreamy scenario as well as a big fat FINAL SALE stamp on my receipt. Oh well--who gives a shit!? I'm going to forinacate with JT right? Sure, or be 10 feet away from him for a whole minute and 36 seconds (I counted). Where was this going? Oh right...

So when I got a tip from a colleage that the entire cast of Melrose Place was bringing cupcakes to my old office, I knew I wouldn't let myself miss out on that. After getting the last minute OK from my boss to take a break, I bolted down to the elevator and out the door quicker than you could say Ashlee Simpson. As a side note, I should probably mention... This gal runs NO where. All exercise-induced asthma aside, it's not so cute. Since birth I've been fortunate enough for two feet that make 180 degree angles when standing. I'll let you ponder that for a minute...

Immediately after body slamming the front doors of my office building, I got a text: "hurry! They're here!" No doubt I olympic sprinted down 12 NYC blocks in blistering 100 degree heat. Finally I made it to the conference room, hair falling out, makeup oozing off--i looked goooood. Breathlessly throwing myself through the door, practicing how I would tell Ashlee I backhanded a group of 6th graders to make it to the front of the stage during her 2004 mall tour, I found myself in a room with 3 friends, 1 rep, an old supervisor, and 10-12 of the sexiest men I've ever seen in my mere 23 years. No Ashlee but totes worth the sweat.

Whatever... I was there right? Might as well make the best of it and open myself of to some mindless innocent flirtation (they may be nameless but they were foinee). I took mental pictures so that I could brag about which non-principal cast member told me "he was enjoying my company." Showtime.

So it premiered... On "menage Tues" of last week (god, I love that). Of course I DVRed, as i would not miss an opportunity to incite jealousy on my friends (eek that sounded bad... sorry guys). I curled up on my couch with a cup of tea and a vibrator--kidding... Sort of. Yet alas. To my dismay, after an hour of bad acting, cheesy blurred flashbacks, and one really adorable scene involving that cutie from the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants movies, I saw not one of my men from earlier that afternoon.

So, needless to say... I'm a little jaded in regards to this second hand, sexed up version of a 90s classic. Especially because the cast was like 38 years old in the original (please see below) and like 19 in remake? Not so synergistic, but I'll keep watching... ya know... just in case.melrose-place.jpg

Wednesday, September 16, 2009



That's it... no really... that's all...


It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year... Sort of

There are few things that get me excited enough to delay my desperate search for a NYC apartment and champion the life-sucking task of commuting daily on the LIRR: Macaroni Sundays, killer sales at Bloomingdales, and most importantly, fall TV premiere week. I'm a firm believer that network heads gathered together in an effort to save the world when they decided to air all new shows in the fall. I would imagine that the conversation went something like this:

"Hey... how do can we make the world a better place?"
"Hmm... I don't know... people really like summertime--maybe we can find a way to keep them from ex-ing themselves once it's over."
"Great thinking--we'll air all our new TV in the fall!"

I mean... it's a stretch... but hey! You never know. Coupled with fashion week, premiere week really makes a bold effort to redeem fall of it's brown color scheme and push for turtlenecks... woof.

Speaking of fashion, let's discuss one of my most anxiously awaited premieres: Project "Let's See if Tim Gunn Can Pull of Flip Flops." God, who am I kidding, Tim Gunn can pull of anything.

But it's true; with the much buzzed about move from Bravo to Lifetime, Project Runway made the switch from East Coast to West Coast. And yes, Tim Gunn has traded in his Pradas for what I can only refer to as "man sandals" (or at least for one epidode). What do I think about the change of scenery? Well, let's just say that everything gets soft once it leaves New York, including this year's talent... and here we go:

Althea: Mah girl. Super hot, totally adoreable, with a great feminine sensibility. So far this season I would wear anything she's put on the runway. It saddens me that she hasn't yet gotten the recognition that she deserves, but if she keeps it up I'm positive it will come.

Ari: So... what can I say about Ari without sounding close-minded? Hmm she's the spitting image of Samantha Ronson? In fact, my favorite part about this season thus far must be the painful contemplative stares Lindsay Low-han (I meant to do that) gave Ari on the runway. Bitch was totally taking out her scorned lovers angst against poor Ari. But then again, Ari DID put silver puffy romper with a hood on the runway during the evening gown challenge. OUT.

Carol Hannah: HEART! This girl is like a younger cuter Sweet Pea with actual talent. Great style, fresh taste, and a "cool girl voice"...what more can you ask for? The blondes are giving the brunettes a run for their money this season... though I don't know how much I like that.

Christopher: Kind of a question mark for me. Yeah, he won the first challenge. Yeah, his dress was adorable. Yeah, he's good. But I can't seem to get behind someone that dresses like Kevin Federline circa 2004.

Epperson: Totally a sleeper. Never ever underestimate a guy in dreds... especially when he can shut up Qristyl... ughh we'll get to her.

Irina: I'll confess... there's not an episode that goes by where I don't mix up Irina and Shirin. Oops?

Johnny: Creepy girl confession of the day: I have an irrational desire to stuff him and cuddle him like a teddy bear. Love him! Sure... he cried on day 1... so what! He's loveable, hugable, and used to do drugs. Gotta love a fashionister with an edge.

Jordanna: This season's token older woman. Apparently she used to employ Carol Hannah... aw that's nice. For me a cross between Uli and Laura--can't complain... Love them both!

Logan: I sort of have a thing for guys with long hair, so I'm a little biased for this one. Can't complain about anything he's put on the runway thus far---especially that avant garde beach inspired dress.

Louise Black: I included her last name because I find it incredibly cliche that she is Louise Black and because so must have fake black hair (which really freaks me out btw). Even though I have a fundamental problem with this, I really can't get down on her quite yet. She's pretty fantastic.

Malvin: Ohhhh Malvin. I was a fan. I like how you were a low talker. I liked your weird hair and insane metaphors. Too bad you were SCREWED by my arch nemesis MITCHELL! So sorry to say it : OUT (that hurt). Ugh, Mitchell... speaking of the devil...

MITCHELLLLLLL: The worst casting decision that Proj EVER made. Ok... so he's a nice guy?? Like since when does the runway care about "nice guys?" The answer: NEVER. He's talentless. He can't sew. He stayed on the show while poor MalvyMalv was booted. Most horrifically, he single-handedly made a mockery of one of my favorite television indulgences. BOO YOU MITCHELL. But wait... OUT! Muuuhaha.

Nicolas: New Yorker who plays with black and white and likes his women dressed a little scandalously... Ah what's not to love!?

Ra'Mon: You know that any man with a flava-sava is here to party. I'm so loving Ra'Mon... mostly because of our shared detest of Mitchell... also for his spot on choices on the runway.

Sharin: Again, Sharin? Irina? I'm not completely obtuse... I know she won the creepy pregnant lady challenge. Probably because she's a baby herself... 24 is she? Hot damnnnn

And now... perhaps the worst on the list... yes... perhaps even worse than Mitchell... oh god why why WHYYYYY...

Qristyl: Ohhhh Crystal... no, I won't recognize the ridiculous spelling of your name. But don't worry... if I wanted a prom dress from Rave in the Roosevelt Field Mall, you'd be the first I call. No, honestly people, how the hell did this clown slip through into the cast? Negative taste, negative like-ability--Heidi WHAT were you thinking?

That's it--count 'em up. My prediction is that it's going to come down to Ra'mon, Althea, Johnny and Louise. The real winner, however? Lifetime. Two thumbs up for their interactive site and streaming video online.