ANTM6 Ep. 6 Recap: Whose Whine Is It Anyway?
Since this week’s episode of AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL is all about improv, I’m going to wing this recap. Just type whatever comes to my head: no censoring of thoughts, no internal editing, little to no proofreading—just throw aside all the rules and fly by the seat of my Rock & Republic Roth Urbans with Fleur De Lis Pockets. What’s that you say? That’s what I do every week anyway? Oh yeah, you’re right. Well, this week we can pretend it’s because I’m spontaneous and wild, and not because I usually write my recaps using the Mad Libs approach: “Jade [adverb] preyed on yet another [noun]. All the [plural noun] in the house [verb] her. [Exclamation], what a(n) [adjective] bitch!”
Show Me the Mollie
As with most episodes, this week’s show begins not with a bang, but with a whimper and a whine. Brooke, still smarting from being the bottom of the barrel in the last judging ceremony, sits curled into a ball, rubbing her head into a wild haired mess and babbling to herself anxiously like a Crazy Cat Lady (you know you have one in the neighborhood). She is mulling over the fact that Gina was in the bottom two one week only to narrowly escape elimination before being summarily dismissed the next week. She’s convinced she’s next. Also, aliens drilled holes in her teeth and the CIA has been after her for years. “Bye bye Brookie,” she mumbles to herself, clearly in need of medication.
Brooke’s not the only one shaken by the panel’s criticism, however. After weeks of hearing that her personality has been a no show, Mollie Sue almost feels compelled to go up to the panel and say, “Let me show you some Mollie.” She says it simply and directly, like a car salesman; I think she should say it like Cuba Gooding Jr., all boisterous enthusiasm and bluster. C’mon, scream it! SHOW ME THE MOLLIE!!! Mollie Sue says her personality is a big part of her, yet no one is seeing it—at least not the people who count (that is to say, the judges). I, personally, happen to like Mollie Sue very much, but since when did my opinion count to Tyra?
Nnenna’s boyfriend troubles continue; we hear her on the phone with the insecure and needy (always attractive qualities in a man) John, who’s still whining about how her being away is painful for him ,and giving her a hard time about kissing a guy in the last photo shoot. “I know something up,” he cries, voice trembling with emotion. Nnenna cuts off the conversation by saying, “It’s gone dirty. Enough is enough.”
Nnenna wants to break things off with John, especially since she feels it is taking her focus away from the competition (good idea). Everyone’s favorite selfless-best-friend-who-always-has-other-people’s-best-interests-in-mind-NOT, Jade, advises Nnenna, “I don’t think you should break up with him,” (bad, bad idea—especially from Jade). Jade even admits, in private, that she thinks having a boyfriend will hold Nnenna back—yet, to Nnenna’s face, she plays supportive friend who wants Nnenna’s relationship to last.
Furonda senses that Jade is zeroing in on another target—after all, it worked with Gina. But is Nnenna as vulnerable a mark for Jade? Something tells me Nnenna won’t be as easy to eliminate. Still I can’t help but be worried as I watch her ask Jade for advice, and Jade telling her the exact opposite of what she says in her confessionals. Shady Jade-y! “Jade knows what’s she’s doing,” Danielle remarks, but “What goes around comes around.”
Tyra on the Ground, Groundlings on the Tyra
Talk about your dirty tricks. The next day, Tyra meets up with the girls under the guise of offering friendly patronage and advice to her top nine. Tyra pauses for a moment, looking weary and unwell, and apologizes for being “weak” and “lightheaded” as a result of “working so hard.” As she puts her head in her hands, the girls have grown very concerned, and ask if she’s okay or needs water. Tyra insists she’s fine, then gets up suddenly from the couch, only to pass out and dramatically fall to the ground face first (on the big, soft, plushy rug), causing widespread panic and/or hysterical laughter, depending on if you are one of the girls in the room with her or are, like me, at home rewinding that segment just to enjoy Tyra doing a face plant over and over again.
“Take her pulse!” someone yells, as the girls move in to check on Tyra. As they grab at her and start to yank her up, I wonder hasn’t any one of these girls taken a basic First Aid/Emergency course? Never attempt to move or straighten an injured person’s body (unless, say, a timed bomb is about to explode, or a gigantic Raiders of the Lost Ark-lookin’ boulder starts rolling in your general direction), or you might cause more damage, such as paralysis or even death!!! This Public Service Announcement brought to you by SFG
Just when everyone’s in a panic and sick with fear that Tyra might have kicked the bucket before their very eyes, she jumps up and screams perkily, “TODAY YOU GUYS ARE GONNA LEARN ABOUT ACTING!!!” She had some girls so convinced, however, that some, like Danielle, appear more pissed off than relieved that she’s fine; and she frightened the wits out of little Furonda, who starts crying out of shock. Wow, although I was blown away by her incredible performance in Halloween: Resurrection, who knew Tyra’s thespian skills were this amazing?
To make up for scaring the poop out of the poor girls, Tyra tosses them free shirts. Referring to the slogan printed on the back of the tank stops,“I want to you guys to shine,” Tyra insists. Forget that “I am going to shine” is the slogan of Tyra’s talk show (and the front of the short has each girl’s name printed in a circle mimicking the logo of Tyra’s other show as well)…subtle, Tyra, very subtle. I guess it was either that or “I Stood Over Tyra’s Unconscious Body and Nearly Watched Her Die and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt.”
So yeah, this episode is all about acting, emoting, committing—all skills that benefit a model. After changing into their Pepto Bismol pink Tyra tees, the girls head over to The Groundlings, an improv and sketch comedy institution (which has spawned the likes of Will Ferrell, Lisa Kudrow and Pee Wee Herman), where they meet improv coach Jeremy Rowley. Jeremy says that many people attend The Groundling’s classes—like a certain TYRA BANKS, who probably brought the girls here through some group discount or sumpin’ (hey, she is the self-proclaimed “Queen of Cheap” ain’t she?).
Jeremy says the girls will now engage in a few improv games and exercises to help their personalities come through. Mollie Sue is all over the opportunity for the panel to “see that I’m a goofball.” As Jeremy instructs the girls to throw themselves into their actions and not judge the result, I find myself incredibly relieved that Insecurity Girl Gina is not there, because the thought of watch her try to let go is awful with a capitol “Aiiiiieee!”
Jeremy gives them cues like “terrified” (much screaming); “Janice Dickinson” (bitchiness, hints of inebriation, Furonda throws herself on the floor); and “anger” (Jade’s demeanor is virtually unchanged for this one). Jeremy says that these exercises will help them in modeling because in the fashion industry people will ask them to do “some really interesting things” (heh heh heh—oh wait, not those kind of “interesting things”) and they’re going to want them to “commit” to it, meaning…act the very opposite of how Gina always acted, i.e. self conscious and stupid.
Next, the girls will create a story together. Called “One Night Stand,” each girl supplies a line to the story, such as Brooke’s opening “Dominique walked into the nice, warm bedroom.” Brooke is worried about doing improv because when she’s “put on the spot” she has a tendency to “get nervous.” In the second group, Jeremy chastises Jade for interrupting the story with out-of-turn laughter during another person’s moment (Furonda’s). “Sometimes it’s not about you,” Jeremy tells Jade. Yes! Someone had to tell her off. If I ever see Jeremy in L.A., I’m buying that man a drink.
Back at home, Nnenna is on the phone (again) getting (even more) grief from her (scary, possibly psychopathic) boyfriend. “You’re embarrassing me,” she tells him as he sobs on the phone (in front of millions of television viewers who will forever know him as Mr. Cryin’- Sobbin’- Codependent- Dead-Weight- Who- Can’t- Stand- Seeing- His- Girlfriend- Succeed- Because- He- Knows- She- Will- One- Day- Realize- How- Much- He- Doesn’t- Deserve- Her- and- Will- Leave- Him- for- The- Hot- Male- Model- from- the -African -Chemist- Photo- Shoot- Thus- Giving- Him- The- Longest- Nickname- Ever- in- the- History- of- Recap- Slag- Offs), and he won’t stop moaning, she finally yells, “Suck it up, John!”
Sara says the problems with John have brought out a negative side of Nnenna. And that negative side’s name? Jade. As Nnenna sits screaming at John, Jade is literally hovering over Nnenna’s left side, telling her what to say (via post-it note cue cards), like the proverbial devil on the shoulder. Jade is even wrapped in a devilish red towel; all that’s missing is the horns and the pitchfork. “Love is such a distraction,” Jade muses (behind Nnenna’s back, of course), “It’s a beautiful thing but it will kill you.” What Jade really hopes is that it will kill the competition. Dun dun duuun!
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Wild ‘n Out
TyraMail says, “Don’t be afraid to wild out!” Wooooo! Wiiiiiild! Craaaazy! Rabid! Foamin’ at the mouth! Wackadoodle doo!!! What? Oh, not that kind of wild. The girls head out to a studio where they meet Nick Cannon, executive producer/creator of MTV’s “Wild ‘n Out” (accompanied by cast members Leonard Robinson and Rob Hoffman) which is, apparently, an improv comedy show, and not, as I had at first believed, a documentary Discovery channel program on homosexuality amongst the animal life of the rainforest. So the challenge here is to be America’s Next Funniest Model, and whoever gets the most laughs will land a role on UPN’s “Veronica Mars.” Mollie Sue feels that she is in her element, and she finally has a chance at winning a challenge.
They begin by working with props—the girls are given an object which they must make use of in a humorous and creative way. Danielle, for example, pretends to be a model with body issues, and acts as if she’s throwing up using a spiral Slinky toy to represent vomit. Brava, Danielle! I love your choices. Furonda uses a pool flotation noodle as a thighmaster, earning some applause. Mollie pretends a bicycle tire is an earring. Danielle takes this moment to mention, “Mollie’s personality is so much different from what the judges are saying; like, she’s hella funny.”
Next is another familiar improv exercise, or favorite pastime of minor Hamlet characters if you are a Tom Stoppard fan, the Questions game. In this game, someone asks you a question and you can only respond with another question. Pretty simple concept, which one everyone else seems to grasp—everyone except Jade. Apparently not much of a stickler for grammar, she is unable to differentiate interrogative sentences from plain, declarative statements. In other words, she keeps screwing up. Nick helpfully tells her to start with “who, what, when, where or why”—and she still screws up, and has a tantrum over it to boot. So everyone is concerned that the 26 year old hasn’t yet made it in modeling—I’m even more concerned that she hasn’t learned basic sentence construction that any first grader could understand!
Finally, they end with the Wildstyle Hip Hop battle. Danielle and Nnenna begin with some rhymes that mildly bust on each other; basically, they’re playful, and not overtly malicious. The rest of the girls follow suit, mostly teasing one another in a way that’s not hurtful—that is, until Jade steps in to tell Furonda, “I know you’re skin is bumpy, but my skin is flawless and you look really lumpy.” She brings the fun and games to a screeching halt. According to Joanie, no one else went there, saying, “Yo Jade, you look like an 85 year old woman.” Jade’s rhyme for Sara is bleeped beyond recognition, but it apparently told her she did not belong in the competition. Everyone looks appalled. Joanie thinks that Jade “makes you feel low so she can bring herself up.”
Meanwhile, Brooke is still too scared to jump in and participate; Furonda, however, can hold her own with the big guys of Wild ‘N Out—enough to impress them into naming her the winner of today’s challenge. After giving everyone notes (Mollie Sue is told her “personality is huge, I just wanted to see more” and Nnenna is “naturally funny—Jade notes bitterly that Nnenna is doing well despite the distraction of her man troubles), Furonda is deemed the most creative and quickest, thus winning the role on “Veronica Mars.” But wait, there’s more: she is told to choose another person with whom she’ll share a surprise—Jade volunteers herself, and Furonda, clearly not wanting to be associated with the Bitchy Bipolar Butterfly, ignores her and picks Nnenna. The two will film a Public Service Announcement.
At the end of the day, everyone is abuzz with what a(n) [adjective] [expletive] Jade is, even Jade. At home, Jade wonders why so many people think she’s an “arrogant bitch,” when anyone who really knows her can attest to the fact she’s “not like that.” No, I’m sure people who really know her would call her things I’m not allowed to use on this website (See You Auntie!). When Furonda confronts her on going too far, Jade tells her, “You keep going off on this niceness thing, it’s not about that.” Furonda questions Jade’s assertion that she is a positive and “real” person, saying “That’s a façade you got going on.” “What the hell is a façade?” Jade blurts. Jade then goes on to say that she needs to write a book about her life, and Furonda should read it. You know what you should read, Jade? A goddamn dictionary, because you are almost as stupid as you are mean.
“Look at you ripping my heart out. Why. Don’t. You. Love. Me?” Blubbering John asks Nnenna on the phone. There seems to be some anti-Nnenna backlash in the house, as the girls crab over how much she’s on the phone. Brooke remarks, “Nnenna is perceived as being this nice, sweet girl, and she’s not,” to which Joanie adds, “Maybe she’s 120% book smart, and like 4% common sense smart.” That’s like, 124% smart smart? Looks like Joanie’s 0% math smart, because that doesn’t make a damn bit o’ sense.
I Love UPN, It is Better Than Cats, I Will Watch It Again and Again
The next day, it’s UPN cross promotion time. All the girls head out to a house in the Hollywood Hills where Furonda and Nnenna will film their PSA. They meet Marvelyn, a 21 year old woman who not only works for an HIV-AIDS organization but is also HIV positive herself. Marvelyn urges them that as models, people listen to them, and they can bring people’s attention to special causes in a way other spokespeople can’t. So yes, Virginia, models can do more important things than just stand there and look pretty.
Furonda and Nnenna then go to film their PSA which Marvelyn informs them will play nationally on UPN affiliates and on UPN.com. Furonda, whose personality I’m liking more these days (and am regretting having compared her to the Geico Gecko), is honored to be able to speak out about a truly important issue and finds the opportunity to educate young people about HIV and AIDS “overwhelming” and “awesome.”
Later on, Furonda goes solo down to sunny San Diego, where she will film her scene in ”Veronica Mars.” She’s excited to visit a television set for the first time. She’s playing “Beverly” an administrative assistant to Steve Guttenberg. “I’m going to meet a movie star,” she says, generously, to the star of Police Academy and…(what else has Steve Guttenberg done aside from Police Academy and its sequels?) The Gute gives her valuable advice like: remember your lines, don’t hit any furniture, and watch out for crumbs. That’s why he gets paid the big bucks!
They film their scene without a hitch. Furonda says that the Groundlings exercises helped her to “commit” to the character of Beverly, the secretary. She delivers a line about a letter opener with such authenticity that she might possibly win an Emmy or a Golden Globe for her performance. Furonda is too polite to name names, but she reckons there might be a certain someone who might be jealous that she’s not the one acting in this scene.
Cut to Jade! She reads out TyraMail: “A model’s life is very busy. Can you cram an entire party into 30 seconds?” There’s no misinterpreting this message: someone’s going to be shooting the fastest gang bang porno ever made tomorrow. Or…a CoverGirl commercial.
Not So Easy, or Breezy, After All
The girls end up at a beautiful, architecturally stunning home in the Hills where Jay Manuel greets them, with commercial director/photographer Michael Rosenthal and informs them that today they will be shooting a commercial for CoverGirl Clean Liquid Makeup, which will require the girls to improvise. They will only get two takes, and two scripted lines they must land in the commercial; the rest is just reacting to the elements around them. Brooke is “really, really, really, really nervous” at the prospect of having to do this commercial. Really. Jade is just as sure that she’s going to rock it, and says this will be “something easy, breezy CoverGirl needs to see.” Oh yes, I’m sure CoverGirl will be very interested in the results of your shoot.
Sara goes first. Jay explains that she must take a long walk through a party scene, up some steps, then alongside the pool, hit her mark, then deliver the required lines at the end. The first thing she does is grab a drink from the waiter, then says, “When you’re out on the town, don’t be a wallflower. Make sure you put your best face forward” (which I think is a good line). She walks through a crowd of dancers looking lively, then ends in front of the camera and with her free hand, picks up a bottle of Clean Liquid makeup from another waiter before landing her lines, “Sheer lightweight coverage. Dermatologist tested. Clean Liquid makeup, only from easy, breezy, beautiful CoverGirl.” Now, I think she does a great job, but apparently I know nothing. Jay points out that she held the product out of frame (okay, that is a big gaffe), then busts her for trying to sell CoverGirl with “an alcoholic beverage.” Sara regrets not having thought of the squeaky clean CoverGirl image, and berates herself, “I failed the test.”
Furonda is next, and she keeps the Groundlings tips in mind, committing to her new Party Girl role. “Parties are so unpredictable,” Furonda ad libs, “but your makeup doesn’t have to be.” Jay whispers, “That’s a good line!” She does a lot of interacting with the partygoers, then delivers her script with some extra enthusiastic poses at the end; Jay seems pleased with her overall performance, though. Joanie says she has no idea what she was doing and she could have been “giving out a recipe for blueberry muffins” for all she knew. She stops in the middle of the party and does something that “totally had nothing to do with makeup.” Okay, so she sucked, but she looked gorgeous doing it!
Leslie looks like a natural walking through the party, in fact the beginning part (especially when she smiles) looked like it could be a real commercial; however, at the end, when she delivers her lines, Jay says, “It sounded like you were selling pharmaceuticals. You know when they say, ‘You may have diarrhea, blah blah blah…” I don’t always agree with Mr. Jay, but here he was so on the money.
Mollie Sue’s turn; she says that “In these things that are more my element, I need to just blow them away, show them my personality.” Unfortunately, Mollie Sue finds that having a bunch of things thrown at her at one time—the improv, the scripted lines, the extra partygoers, the whole barrage—is much more difficult than she thought it would be. By the time she gets to the lines at the end, her shoulders are drawn way up with tension, and she delivers the words in a stilted way that makes Jay wince. He scolds her forgetting a line, and also for not being engaging. “I’m pretty disappointed,” Mollie Sue says, with tears, ”I’m not this person, I have to step out of whatever’s holding me back because I have to win this.”
Danielle goes up with a whole schpiel: “Every woman is looking for a spot of perfection. So why not start with that perfection on your face?” She says the whole thing was harder than she thought it would be; by the end of her walkthrough, she forgets the scripted lines. Take 2 is almost better, but instead of holding the bottle upright, she tips it over to the side. I now have a newfound respect for the “Price is Right” ladies—it does take some skill to show off products, you can’t just hold them any old way.
Nnenna says that as a model, it is her job to leave her worries at home and focus on the duty at hand. So that’s just what she does. Jay is delighted with her work, saying “You were relating the party and the brand; this was very impressive.” When Nnenna goes backstage, happy and smiling, everyone seems pissed at her good performance. “We are all like, please just go in another room right now,” Mollie Sue admits. Nnenna is dumbfounded by the girls’ response, and Sara simply says, “We did bad.” And, like Morrissey says, [i]We hate it when our friends become successful.” Nnenna then says she doesn’t question how the other girls feel about her because “I don’t care to know.”
Brooke’s turn at bat: Jay feels her pulse, and her heart is racing so fast, it’s making him nervous. She kicks off her commercial by lumbering along rather ungracefully and saying, “Oh gosh,” which Jay thinks is bad start. Then talk about vapid, Brooke ad libs in a high, ditsy voice, “I just love wearing CoverGirl! It’s just sooo nice to wear!” Like OMGWTFBBQCG! She then flubs her scripted lines. She’s so bad that Jay and the crew actually laugh at her during the shoot. She knows she did poorly, and thinks this commercial will send her home.
Jade is last. Jay describes it best, “She doesn’t quite grasp the fact that she needs to improvise in this scene. It was 30 seconds of me listening to her heels clop on the concrete.” Jay then does a perfect impression of Jade to show her how idiotic she looked. “What was that?” he said, after miming her crazy performance. Take 2 is just as ridiculous, prompting Jay to declare, “She’s a drag queen!” At the end, when she grabs the bottle, she totally blows her CoverGirl lines and, in frustration, swears. Michael immediately calls cut. “CoverGirls don’t say that!” Jay exclaims in horror. Jade swears if she had one more take, “I know I would have aced it,” and then does what she does best, blames others for her faults by saying, “I just needed more direction.”
TyraMail announcing another elimination causes the usual tension and speculation. Brooke is convinced she’s going home. Mollie Sue thinks Jade should be the most worried, because she swore. What, Jade worry? Of course not, she thinks she is the most deserving of being America’s Next Top Model.
Tyra welcomes all the girls (Mollie Sue, Sara, and Joanie are all wearing their pink Tyra tank tops at the end of the line-up, like they have their own Pink Ladies Gang going on) to another judging ceremony by reenacting her dramatic collapse. “Remember that?” Tyra says goofily, looking as if she’s vying for the title of America’s Next Top Jerry Lewis. Nigel says she scared the life out her, and Twiggy says her heart stopped. Tyra better stop crying wolf with the pratfalls, because the next time she might have a real medical emergency and everyone will be like, “Oh that crazy Tyra. Don’t dial 911, she’s just playing.” The panel today is joined by Michael Rosenthal, and Miss J.’s t-shirt is brought to you by the number nine.
Evals begin with Mollie Sue. The panel seems almost troubled watching her commercial. “That’s not a model’s performance; there’s no passion in your eyes,” Nigel comments. Michael mentions that she missed a line, and Tyra thinks she was alittle too aggressive, “almost like you were selling mace.” Danielle is capped on for her down home, Southern accent. Tyra says she needs to study the standard “newscaster” accent. Furonda’s commercial is “a little over the top at the end, but least you went for it,” Twiggy says. Tyra only dislikes the “three poses with the tag” and also warns her to relax her eyebrows, because when she’s nervous they go sky high. They then applaud her for winning the “Wild ‘N Out” challenge and appearing in “Veronica Mars.”
Brooke, wearing a somber black turtleneck, as if already mourning her chances at staying in the competition, is mortifed when they show her commercial. Everyone laughs at it, especially when, at the end, she just completely forgets her last lines. “That was dreadful,” Miss J. murmurs. Tyra calls her “Babbling Brooke.” Twiggy reassures her, saying she was also shy when she began; but Tyra’s a little tougher, insisting that “it’s not about shy, so many actresses are the shyest people in the world—it’s about stage fright.”
Nigel says, “Nnenna was taking no prisoners [in her commercial],” but not necessarily in positive way. He felt like she left the partygoers in her “wake” in a way that was not graceful; Tyra felt it Nnenna’s commercial at the “frenetic” pace of a real commercial. Miss J. laughs aloud at Joanie’s commercial; Nigel tells her that her surroundings required a certain “level of sophistication” that she did not achieve. Leslie’s starts great, looking “model-y” in the walkthrough, however, Tyra feels that her delivery of the lines made her seem “mean.” Nigel says the camera loves her, but Leslie lacks presence in person. Sara, predictably, gets ragged on for having the drink in her hand, also because she holds it as high as the product she is selling, and even more so because both objects are out of frame. “Big error,” Michael laments. Tyra says she looked like a CoverGirl but didn’t it end it as well as she started.
Jade looks pissed as they play her commercial, and then tells the judges, “You guys this is my worst one.” Michael explains the first take didn’t have enough interaction; and then Nigel points out that at a casting, one would only get one chance to begin with. Tyra asks for a show of hands from people who didn’t feel they selected their best take; Brooke and Sara raise their hands. Tyra and Nigel say that this happens to everyone, you’ll never know why clients will select a certain shot or a certain take. But it’s out of your hands. Tyra concludes by telling Jade she was “very draggish.”
The judges go off to do their thang, with them most notably finding Mollie Sue to be more “TV presenter” than model, Nnenna boring, and Miss J. calling Brooke a “trout,” prompting Nigel to produce this zinger, “If this was America’s Next Top Trout, she’d be a keeper.” After deliberating, Tyra calls the girls back in. The girls in the clear are: Furonda, Sara, Leslie, Danielle, Nnenna, Joanie, and Brooke (!).
So who will get the picture, and who will go home: Mollie Sue or Jade? Tyra breaks it down for them: Mollie Sue is in the bottom two not because she takes bad pictures but due to a “lack of persona” Tyra describes as “robotic”; Jade is there because she plays “the blame game” and adds that during deliberations, Michael said that both her commercial takes were bad. As I cross my fingers and toes for them to finally get rid of Jade, Tyra coldcocks me by pulling out a picture of Jade. Nooooo!!!
With that, Mollie Sue is gone. “I’m so confused right now, for Jade to stay over me is just crazy. I didn’t see it coming.” Me neither, though I did watch with someone (who hadn’t even seen any of this cycle) who said, “They’re going to bitch out this Jade, but they’re still going to keep her.” Is reality TV drama that much of a premium? And just what do you have against cool redheads, Tyra?!! (Exhibit A: Nicole from Cycle 3.) For Mollie Sue, being eliminated isn’t as shocking as the reason why: lack of personality is the last thing she’d expected she’d be dismissed for. Not that it’s any consolation, but I don’t get it either, Mollie Sue. So dry your eyes and don’t give up; just because Tyra & Co. don’t see your personality, doesn’t mean others don’t. You are going to shine.
[Verb] me, and I’ll [adverb][verb] you back! snowflakegirl@fansofrealitytv. com