I Love Money

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Spit Take

What's up, skanks? The sun rose early on this beautiful Sunday morning in the middle of Labor Day weekend. It's a gorgeous day in New York with a bright blue sky and a hint of a breeze off the East River. The streets are almost empty since most city dwellers are spending the last summer weekend at the beach or in the mountains. It's the quintessential end-of-summer day. And where am I spending it? On the couch. Watching freaking I Love Money. I am in a bad mood. And I am planning on taking it out on these chuckleheads.

If you can't remember last week, 12 Pack was eliminated by Toastee. This even though as Paymaster she had the opportunity and means to eliminate her purported enemy Numero Uno, Whiteboy. Why? Well, Megan would like you to think it was because of her mad manipulation skills. I think it was because Toastee is allergic to Sun In and 12 Pack? 12 Pack was lousy with the stuff. Plus, he was a crap dresser. So what is the lay of the land now? Currently we have the remaining Stallionaires and their alliance, which currently includes Whiteboy, Real, Hoopz, and sometimes Megan and maybe Toastee versus Heather and The Entertainer. The former Gold Team has been decimated. Rounding out the alliance round up is what I call the Double Secret Double Ds: Brandi, Toastee, Pumkin, and Megan and their top secret blonde alliance. Since the former Gold Team is pretty pathetic at this point Heather starts doing what she is good at: pimping and whoring. In a sad transparent attempt to find a new alliance she pretends to like Brandi and Megan and even Megan's little dog. Everyone sees through the charade. The Entertainer is strangely testy about Heather's so-called betrayal, but what's a girl supposed to do? I'm sure The Entertainer will become a douche himself by the end of the episode. More of a douche, I mean.

Phone rings. It's Challenge time! Craig claims that this week's Challenge will test strength, accuracy and agility. Megan and Brandi have no idea what "agility" means. I guess they didn't have SAT prep courses in the trailer park. The Entertainer and Whiteboy both contend that they are going to win the Challenge, whatever it is. And what is this week's Challenge? Anyone who has seen a promo for the episode knows -- It's the Spit Olympics! Yay? In the confessional, Pumkin tells us that she is very proud that there is an entire Challenge based on her antics. I'm sure her parents love the bumper sticker that came with this great honor. This week's Challenge will test each contestant's ability to spit by length and height. The whole thing is truly revolting. Really. Craig tells the skanktestants that the winner will be Paymaster and the loser will be up for elimination. First, they will be judged on their ability to spit distance. They have bottles of colored something or other (it looks like blue and green Kaopectate) to swish and spit. First to the plate is Real. A man in protective headgear, eyegear, and gloves rushes out to measure the spittle shot. Better safe than sorry with this lot. Who knows what diseases are teeming within! Real spit seventeen feet. Pumkin hits twelve. Toastee is wearing a tiara. She claims her parents told her a lady doesn't spit so she doesn't expect to be able to spit that far. She hits six feet. I wonder if her parents said anything about not being a skank on national television? Heather and her abs and bronchitis manage a notable 15 feet. Whiteboy gets 18 feet, which is sort of impressive. Disgusting, but impressive. Hoopz, Brandi, and Megan are all pretty much lame spitters. I'm going to skip the fellatio jokes. All of them. Megan is the worst spitter despite being tall. The Entertainer hits 18 feet five inches. His parents must be proud. As Brandi, Toastee, and Megan are the worst spitters, they have to sit out the rest of the competition. I can't imagine they are bummed out about that. As the worst of the worst, Megan is guaranteed a place in the Box and must be prepared for Elimination.

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I Love Money




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