And we’re off to the races! Greetings to players, fans, and friends of the “Bad Girls Club” Fantasy League! My sacred duty this season will be highlighting the trials and tribulations of seven emotionally-unhinged, rage-prone, alcoholic women in a mansion – and the seven marginally more functional twentysomethings that have chosen to wager on these women’s lives. Don’t think of this as an elitist exercise in condescension. Far from it. Structured gambling clubs are the highest form of flattery. Many of us in the League have either bedded women just like this, can empathize with blacked-out binges of screaming and violence towards roommates, or both. This ain’t your momma’s “Real World” – this is a show with no other objective except drinking and effing bitches up.
So here is my first post-game assessment, my Wednesday Morning QB if you will, of the show’s best moments and which player swept the floor with their girl’s Daddy-issue-induced antics. Personally, I’ve felt blessed to have Flo as my draft pick (fudge check!), but I aim to give unbiased reports of the week’s top performances. Molly, stop cheating.
I must say, before I begin, that it’s quite difficult to sit back and enjoy the insanity of this show when there is a well-crafted points system that needs to be carefully heeded. It’s like having to count lens flares in the Star Trek movie. (Count it!) Anyway, this week I had to pause the show every other minute to run down the checklist – fist pumping when I found a match, cursing the heavens when my girl racked up negative points for stopping violence.
This week’s episode, aptly titled “I Run LA” after Natalie’s ‘oft quoted line of the night, traces the bipolarity of Natalie’s emotional abuse of doe-eyed Annie, to her drunk sobbing over a long-distance Sesame Street boyfriend that we just learned she had. The whole mess was completely Natalie-centric. I even noticed that most of the episode her wireless lav mic was turned up higher than those she was arguing with so that she was in the spotlight. Ergo, I think it’s safe to say, based on our point system, Adam made out like a bandit. With his 1st round draft, Adam wisely chose Natalie – who could take the house in blurred vag, ass, and titty shots alone. Come to think of it, between the physical threats, screaming, throwing shit, and crying – methinks Adam rigged this whole point system.
Or maybe I’m just bitter because Flo was a big disappointment this week. As my BGC spotter Mr. Wouters phrased it: “She’s just a tatted-up Rosie O’Donnell that’s underperforming.” Sadly, yes. But am I worried? No. Next episode’s previews promise high marks for Momma (Poppa?) Flo as she has washed her hands of every bitch in that house.
Back to the plot: the girls kick off a new day right by planning a raucous evening at a banana-hammocked male strip club. Ostensibly this outing begins at 3:30pm, as they head out the door with hair Bumpits teased, boobs out, and the sun still high in the sky. At the club and post lap dance that got oil all over Annie’s tutu, Natalie beckons over a pasty-adorned female stripper to sacrifice at the alter of Dyke for Mizz Flo. I’m not sure if anything happens beyond a few wet pecks on the abs and ass, because the freakin’ editors of this show always cut away when I think Flo is about to get her effing grove on and rack me up some points. But perhaps it’s best because Amber takes major issue with having to watch girl-on-girl. Hey, she’ll kiss a girl, but she doesn’t want one eating her cooter. And she stands by that.
Anyway, the chickenheads retire back to the house where Annie pulls a bitch move on Flo by not fetching her ciggies while out to get food. Annie’s reason? Her hands were stuck at 10 and 2 at the wheel of her Virgin Mobile.
But Flo ultimately maintains composure, much to my disappointment. Again.
The next day, Natalie proceeds to incoherently badger Annie about her anorexia. Annie’s defense? Crying virgin tears over her suitcase full of diet food. Dammit this girls sucks. No offense to Dan’s main gal, but Annie needs to grow some cojones. Everyone in the house constantly refers to her as the “weakest link”, and she can’t even tell when people are mocking her to her face as she scours spoiled meat from the garbage or removes organic eggs from the carton by a bat-shit algorithm. Will she snap and cut a bitch? Time will tell.
Portia’s one featured moment in this whole episode was, sadly, dressing to Natalie’s specifications of “LA trendy” before they hit the clubs, which turned into a night of Natalie grinding on any “gentleman” Annie had bored to death. Kate, Amber, and Annie are dunzo with that scene, so the crowd heads back to the house. Starved for attention, Natalie teases Flo with a dirty photoshoot of her humping a floating bed in the pool. At this point, Flo was getting more agitated than a vag sliding down the mansion’s fur-lined banister. But alas, Natalie was just teasing – she’s strictly dickily over there.
A new day brings a new vendetta. Natalie shifts her vitriol toward a Xanax-ridden Kate, who has temporarily shirked her duties of cleaning the bathrooms to go for a run.
Kate returns from said run with hopes to pop some more pills and sunbathe, only to be accosted by a rabid Natalie who demands she clean the shitters at that exact moment. Many bemoan another Natalie fit, others agree Kate needs to get on board. Windex is thrown. So what is everyone’s damage? Are they all syncing on the rag that quickly? No, there’s a bigger issue afoot.
There are growing tensions from living in a meaty chalupa fiesta of a house. Engrish: These bitches are horny as shit. Flo offers to give out handies to assuage the pain. And goddammit if there aren’t any takers. As another random kind gesture, Natalie calls in a stunt cock named Marcus to suck face with Kendra in the hot tub. But the love ends there. Partying at a lame-o club in SaMo (trust a bitch, I’ve been there), Natalie suffers a breakdown over her sudden boyf Olamide, an actor on Sesame Street, because he hasn’t been answering her calls and won’t drop scrilla on a plane ticket. Tonight’s episode is sponsored by the letter D for Dumped. Kendra mistakenly challenges Natalie’s sincerity (gasp!) in the limo ride home and Natalie proceeds to punch Kendra in the face. This sets off Mother Hen Flo to play “Cap’n Save-a-Ho” and threaten Natalie for…well…threatening another person. Tonight’s dramz concludes with Kendra and a smug Amber celebrating on the shower bench over how Natalie will be kicked off for her violence. Natalie, the clear winner of this week’s fantasy league, leaves to stay at a roach motel for the night.
HOLD THE PHONE: “There is a no violence rule.” WTF?? How is this possible? Has this rule been completely overlooked until now? There has already been insane violence thus far and yet this is the first indiscretion? Maybe I’m missing something here. But I’ll tell you what I’m not going to miss – next week’s episode.
Until then…Fudge check!
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