Last year I wondered if Flavor of Love was serious or not, whether those girls really meant to be so ill-mannered and churlish. (See that? See how I roll? Yes, I may have WATCHED Flavor of Love, religiously, but you see how I set myself apart by using words such as ill-mannered and churlish?) I cackled when Flav said “Don’t me mad at me, New York, I’m’a roll with Deelishiss.” Anyway, this time I’m saving your gray matter form the horror and delight that is VH1’s The Pickup Artist. Perhaps you’ve seen the commercials- a tall, skinny doofus in a fluttery black giganto rave top hat and more makeup than I’ve ever worn is giving dating advice to severely shy, and, in probably more than one case, gay, young men. It’s too much to explain all at once, but for about $5K you can enroll in his seminar and learn the rules yourself! Oh, in addition to his Nars addiction and questionable choice of head decorations, his name is Mystery. Yes. And yes, he means it.
It’s an elimination game show, of course, and these poor young (and some gay!) lads are trying to make the most of their time under Mystery’s tutelage (that’s another word you never heard on Flavor of Love). The winner of the kissing game (no, they weren’t kissing each other, they were kissing a blind-folded blonde chick who I hope to GOD had her rabies vaccination updated [wait a sec, those boys haven’t been kissing anyone, that’s why they’re on this show! See? She’s safe!]) was awarded the much-coveted prize of the Ear Bud, though which Mystery would feed him instructions during the next Real Live Encounters with Real Live Not Blind-Folded Chicks. The winner chirped in delight “I get to have Mystery in my brain when I’m talking to a girl!” Um, sweet pea, isn’t that why you’re on this show? Not knowing how to talk to girls? So I must ask, how has this helped? Also, is there a container of Clorox Disinfecting Wipes on set? Because if that’s a community Ear Bud, there’s no telling what ear cooties are on that thing.
One more thing, and then I’ll move on. Would you take dating advice from a single man? A single man in make-up and a fluttery hat? A man whose friends are named Jay-Dog and Matador? Yes, dear friend, just like Flavor Flav, he means it.
Ok, next! This weekend I will be knitting something fabulous and fun for my favorite drag queen. She’s just lovely, and her smart-assedness is something I admire. I’m not sure if the web address is “it ain’t William” or “I taint William.” Either way, I will be knitting something for Willam and I hope she thinks of me fondly whenever she wears it. Ok, what should I knit? And the idea of a tucking belt has already been put to rest, thank GOD. I think Lynnea and I now have our careers as female impersonator impersonators all planned out, we learned so much the other day. I know things that just never occurred to me before! In any case, Willam is sure to be the prettiest fake-baked Sherpa on her block! Oh, she already is. Nothing I knit can hold a candle to her! (Because, like New York’s weave, her hair might be synthetic and that’s just danger, yo.)