America's Next Top Model
How The Girls Got Here

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Djb: B- | Grade It Now!
The Sound Of One Djb Snapping

Sick props to Wing Chun and Potes.

And now...drum roll please...

"The Song of Tyra: An Epic Poem of ANTM Season One, Written Entirely In Verse."


They're saline-breasted and they're blonde from a bottle
But just one in ten will be the first season's Top Model
You've tuned in on Tuesday as usual, but it's a trap
For instead of an episode, it's an hour of recap
Since there's nothing else on and you don't own a car
Let's stay here and remember this season thus far
Put your feet on the couch, grab some beer or some Cokes
And we'll relive it all again, with my second-funniest jokes
For me, I'm still here, and if you asked why I stayed
Well, if I didn't write something, I wouldn't get paid
But I'll caution the reader as we go
To try to keep expectations low
Please just save your crabby emails
Yes, you too Janice; even she-males
So we'll watch this dumb hour, for what it does is remind
That at least when we sat through it this time, it rhymed

Part The First: And So The Epic Begins

In a West L.A. office, a parade of sheer skanks
Gets the once-over from the stink-eye of Tyra Banks
The first audition we see is for one we called "Shannon"
Whose commercial appeal suggests the vanilla-est Dannon
There's also the nice girl, referred to as "Kesse"
Pronounced as a word rhyming with both "Jesse" and "wheezy"
And then there's the tomboy who don't like makeup or fussin'
And whose mouth sounds stuffed with both cheese steaks and cussin'
Miss Ebony tells us her look is "exotic"
Which conveniently rhymes with the fact she's psychotic
And, finally, Nicole promises, "Success is knocking on my door"
Under lights that are red, on the house of a whore

Part The Second: Lo, The Journey Is Undertaken

It's New York in the winter, and so harsh the weather
And also, please note, none of them is named Heather
We hear Robin talk in her strange form of scat
And take our first trip to the Hotel that is Flat
Tokyo! Paris! Milan! And Miami!
Though to feel truly at home, most would need a room called "Alabammy"
The Milan girls get comfy and crack open a bah-ble
As I ponder how few words rhyme with "Julian Schnabel"
The rifts begin instantly, when Elyse refutes God
Because she worships secular deities like General Zod
They get waxed and get weighed, Robin she don't like that
If she's made in God's image, I guess God's pretty fat

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America's Next Top Model




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