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Thread: Manhunt Recap 11-9: “Keep the Shirts On, Less Dry Humping”…Words to Live By

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    Manhunt Recap 11-9: “Keep the Shirts On, Less Dry Humping”…Words to Live By

    Manhunt Recap 11-9: “Keep the Shirts On, Less Dry Humping”…Words to Live By

    “Day Fourteen. I’m solid gold, baby. No one seems to realize how much this show depends on me. They only know that I can’t be cut. Who else can offer the behind the scenes dirt? Who else can give the professional analysis of an embedded model? Nobody, that’s who—because I am the first model to ever be “embedded” in the history of modeling. So every week the judges send my competition packing, eagerly hanging on my words of wisdom. Just a few more days, and then I will stand alone beside the only professional-quality photo in their gallery of judgment. At that moment, they will realize too late that they have sent everyone else home, and the only option left is to crown me America’s Most Gorgeous Male Model. Which is just as it should be, just as I’ve planned from day one. I’m in it to win it.”
    —excerpt from the diary of Kevin P.


    “That’s sexy.” – Tate, shockingly not looking in the mirror

    I think the Standard Hotel is paying by the second for each shot of the sign outside their building. Which is why I have to look at it again, as if even a last-stages Alzheimer patient could forget where the model boys are staying.

    Inside the Standard, the boys are relaxed. Hunter is really relaxed. So relaxed that even the knowledge that cameras are catching his every move is not enough to keep his hand out of his pants. The fact that the room is full of other people doesn’t seem to bother him either. Must be a guy thing.

    Tate is trippin’. Somebody unpacked all his stuff during the night. He asks the other guys if their stuff’s been messed with. The guys gently break it to Tate that they’ve all been unpacked for two days, and Tate’s just been too drunk to notice. This news seems to comfort Tate. I don’t think it’s the first time he’s lost track of a few days.

    Tate brings in the Tray Mail, but is too hung over to read it. Or possibly he never learned to read (*tears* <-- Oscar clip). Either way, Rob does the honors, adding a melodramatic “Dum, dum, dum!” when he finishes. The poem rhymed. It also mentioned red carpets, company, and ACCESS, in all caps. The clever pretties quickly realize that they’re going on Access Hollywood, and that at some point more hoochie ho-bags are going to be involved. Or “girls,” as they euphemistically call them.

    “You guys are the six hottest guys on the planet now, right?” – Shaun Robinson, unconvinced

    Kevin narrates. These guys are going to get a taste of the good life—these guys, not Kevin, as he obviously already lives the good life, international celebrity that he is—and then we’ll see who can handle it and who will lose control. I think we’re all fairly comfortable with the assumption that Tate will fall into the latter category.

    As everyone in the world knows, you can’t have the good life without Access Hollywood. Trying to divide the two is like trying to separate the word “trashy” from Paris Hilton. Shaun Robinson, Access Hollywood Anchor, greets us and the guys at the studio. I think she’s a little disappointed, to be honest. Now if Paulo had been there…but I digress. She takes the boys for a tour of the studio and then does a mini-interview with each of them. I don’t know if this spot actually aired on Access Hollywood (sorry. I’m not a machine, people), but if it did, I hope they kept it short, because it was not impressive.

    “Okay honey, take it off.” – Shaun again, getting into the spirit of Manhunt

    Shaun’s interviews are almost more senseless and annoying than the comedian panel last week that was paid to be senseless and annoying. She asks Maurice to sell her an air filter, and for some reason he gives her a verbal five second physical.

    She asks Tate to do ten pushups, sensing that conversation is not his forte. By my count, Tate only did three. But one of them was one-handed—maybe that’s recognized in fitness worlds as the equivalent of eight regular pushups. Or maybe it’s just that Tate no count good.

    Rob does a spin-pose.

    Hunter brags about his gymnastics background, and then insists on removing his shirt before doing a handstand. Which is vital, because you can really get hurt trying to do handstands with a shirt on—that’s just plain reckless. Shaun hums a stripper tune while Hunter disrobes.

    Jon is asked why he should win. He answers, “Because I make Orlando Bloom look like the wicked witch of the west.” This tanks with Shaun. Under that Ally McBeal suit is a t-shirt that reads “Marry Me, Orlando!”

    Surly now, Shaun growls “Whatcha got?” at Kevin. Kevin answers, “I’m gonna do a little bouncing for you.” And then proceeds to take off his shirt and twitch his pectoral muscles for her. Shaun stumbles away from him, choking on her horrified laughter.

    “Synchronized Ab Reveal” – Shaun, by producer request

    Yes, naturally Shaun has the guys get half-naked. If you’re playing the Manhunt drinking game, that’s three shots you should have tossed back now. Maurice is out of his top in nanoseconds (you don’t have to ask this guy twice!). Shaun requests group flexing, and you know she gets it! It’s times like this that I really miss Paulo…

    Shaun tells the camera that beauty and a dime will get you a bagel in Hollywood; these guys need that something extra in order to get ahead. (Is she really allowed to say the word “extra”?) On a side note, I think my bagel place is ripping me off.

    “Like we were Baywatch life guards!” – Hunter

    Oh, those poor, hardworking little modelettes! They deserve a break, don’t they? Let’s take them to the beach—just let them paddle in the waves and throw a football around. No strings attached. Just good, clean fun.

    Have these boys ever watched a reality TV show??

    The catch, because the world would self-destruct if there wasn’t one, is “Celebrity Photographer” Jeff Rayner. Translation: paparazzi. This is the guy who gets paid to shimmy up a eucalyptus tree outside Oprah’s compound in order to get a fuzzy shot of her butt crack as she bends over to picks a daisy. He’s going to be doing his thing on the Manhunt guys, hoping to catch them in some embarrassing positions—which he can then sell to Star Magazine if any of them ever makes it big.

    The football game is far too innocent for Paparazzi Guy to do his job (though it’s freakin’ hilarious to watch Rob try to catch the football. If he’d ever succeeded, you know that when he sent it back, he would throw like a girl), so bring on the tramps. I mean, the young ladies.

    “Sorry, losers.” – Carmen Electra

    Carmen pulls up in a corruption-yellow Lamborghini. She announces a volleyball challenge; the winner receives the chance to drive the car. Oh hot dog! A test drive. Now there’s a prize!

    And it just keeps getting better. We all know you can’t have beach volleyball without a full compliment of players, so Carmen introduces the six paid-by-the-hour ladies who will be helping flesh out the teams. Maurice whistles. The girls look terminally bored. It appears that Bravo didn’t pay for enthusiasm.

    If you were hoping for a Top Gun-style showdown of sweaty muscles and cocky spinning-the-ball-on-one-finger moves, I’m sorry. There is a lot of unproductive flailing in the sand. Especially on Rob’s team. The girls do a little, well, standing, carefully defending hair and nails. Bravo didn’t pay for effort, either. Jon, Hunter and Maurice win an easy 21-14 victory.

    The test drive section is really so exciting for all of us viewers. Yes, the Lamborghini zooms seductively back and forth across our screen…back and forth across the parking lot. Which they aren’t allowed to leave. Thrilling. Really. Rob is the only one who seems disappointed among the losers. He doesn’t think the other guys, who could only describe the car as “yellow,” fully appreciated the beautiful machine.

    Carmen leaves, promising/threatening to see the boys that night at the White Lotus. She also promises/threatens that she will be bringing more girls. Click, click, click goes Paparazzi Guy’s ginormous camera as he leans oh-so-inconspicuously over the top of his car and points his twelve foot telephoto lens in the boys’ direction. Compensate much?

    “One of those chain-smoking, typical…whatevers.” - Jon

    The boys surf, bond, and play innocently on the beach. Hunter does a run of backflips. He doesn’t stick the landing. Nothing incriminating.

    The boys go home to dress pretty, and then a stretch limo arrives to pick them up. Hunter is particularly impressed. He crosses another item off his “things to do before I die list” (Ride in a long, black car. Done and done). Six female models-for-hire are already in place as escorts (and as possible means of incrimination. Good luck with that, Rob’s date.)

    Fake press people snap pictures of the guys as they stroll into the Loggia for dinner with the “ladies” on their arms. Let the corruption of fame begin!

    At dinner, Hunter (pretentious in sunglasses at night) is the only one who seems impressed with his date. Has anyone else noticed that Hunter is easy to impress? Look, Hunter! A blue car! All the other guys are somewhat disgusted with the shallow, stereotypical behavior of these models. I mean, really, what do these girls think? That looks will buy you acceptance? That beauty means you don’t need a brain or a personality? That’s just plain…familiar sounding…

    “Finally these guys were annoyed in the same way that other people are annoyed by them.” - Rob

    The sushi goes over well (Hunter claims “it was a five-star meal…if that’s even a rating for it.”). The girl models, not so well. We watch Jon’s date, the queen of the, er, witches, mock Hunter for eating with a fork. Jon tells the camera that he wished he could just smack her, illustrating his point by slapping the back of his hand. As the queen jabbers on, Jon mouths “shut the [bleep] up” behind her back.

    The limo takes the boys to the White Lotus. Time to shake that groove thing. They waltz pass the waiting line as more cameras flash. Rob says that if he’d been in that line, he would “have been like, who are those jokers?”

    Inside the White Lotus, Carmen Electra’s nipples are omnipresent. No matter which way you to try to turn your head or squint or peek through your fingers…there they are.

    “When you go to a club, you try to lose five pounds a night.” – Hunter’s self-proclaimed motto

    Paparazzi Guy hits pay dirt. Things in the White Lotus get, in Rob’s words, “a little wild.” No one is surprised by Tate’s behavior. By this point, Tate could mug a nun for crack money and we would not be surprised. Hunter, on the other hand, shocks a few of his companions. Again in Rob’s words, “Hunter has an inner stripper that came out last night.” To be honest, I don’t think the inner stripper was ever buried that deep. Remember the steamy S and M photo? Remember the jazzercise?

    And remember when I called Rob “Church Lady”? Huh? *nudge nudge* Was I right or was I right? An attractive boy comes on to Rob, but gets the brush off. Rob is all about the competition right now.

    Hunter continues to…burn the calories. “It got a little dodgy,” Paparazzi Guy tells us. “But for pictures? Very good.” A girl stuffs money down the front of Hunter’s pants.

    “What modeling’s all about.” – Manhunt stylist
    Clothes? It’s a bit late for that, Bravo.

    In the morning, Tray Mail is rhymeless and to the point—someone must have warned The Tray Mail Poet that the guys would be in no shape for tricky couplets today. The guys learn that they will be wearing clothes for today’s shoot—a dangerous departure from the Manhunt formula. A rack of suits arrives. We can count on Rob to recognize the designer, H. Lorenzo. He pities the other boy’s lack of fashion savvy.

    The guys try on the suits. The stylist says that Tate, Rob and Maurice are easy. Well, Tate, sure, but Rob’s really been quite dedicated…oh, he meant that they were easy to dress, due to their height. Okay. Hunter and Jon are more inconvenient because they are too short for “sample size,” the size that will be hanging on the racks backstage at every fashion show.

    Kevin notes that this is the first photo shoot that’s “not, uh, naked.” Don’t rub it in, mole-boy. Rob is thrilled to finally be in his element. He knows he’s not a swimsuit model.

    “I want them to look sexy, like tigers! Grrr-ow!” – Brian Bowen Smith

    Brian Bowen Smith is the “Suit Shoot” photographer. His credits include Elle, Vanity Fair, and Vogue. Brian is also easily the most popular Manhunt photographer to date. The guys love him.

    Maurice goes first. Brian thinks he has a serious, handsome look, but that it’s the only look he has. “This guy’s like a statue.”

    Tate, his hair sprayed into smooth submission, is given an umbrella to play with. Brian thinks Tate has the most natural potential, and is the most versatile. That’s right—Tate is the modeling world’s version of an idiot savant.

    Jon’s hair is also sleek. He is the only one we see revealing skin during the shoot—even Brian cannot resist. He has Jon pull up his shirt to expose that perfect, smooth caramel six pack. “Thank you, you were [bleep]ing great!” is the only comment we get from Brian.

    Rob, who Kevin calls “a metrosexual to the tenth degree,” in a voice over, poses with a lamp post. Brian tells him, “Hey—you looked masculine!”

    Hunter is sad that he will not be baring his “personal temple,” as he refers to his body, in this shot. But, fashion expert that he is, Hunter realizes that clothes are one of those unfortunate necessities of the modeling life. Brian has Hunter throw a newspaper at the camera. A lot.

    We see Kevin doing an action/running-at-the-camera shot. Brian implies that this was the quickest set. “Thanks for being easy,” he tells Kevin. “I mean that in a loose sense.”

    “Morbid…it looks like death.” – Rob

    At home, six carryon suitcases surround the Tray Mail. Now that the hangovers have worn off, the poet is free to express himself again in rhyme. Everyone is to pack. Some are moving on and some are going home, but no one’s coming back to the Standard.

    Let the nervous whining commence. Jon thinks Rob has an advantage in this shoot. Jon is not comfy with the high fashion thing.

    Rob is not whining. He thinks this was a good shoot, a good setting, and a good product. Everyone is on an even playing ground this time, and it’s all about “the man.”

    We find ourselves in the Gallery of Humiliation. Two lines of photos are waiting. On one side, the black and white results from the Suit Shoot. On the other, black draped mystery easels. All are uneasy. Some are as frightened as little girls.

    But the glossy prints of themselves call to them… And this really is the best shoot, every picture is good. Clothes…who would have thunk it?

    “Keep the shirts on, less dry humping.” – Paparazzi Guy advice

    Carmen walks in and starts into a lecture on the need to look good at all times. The guys listen with blank looks…which turn to looks of fear and chagrin as Carmen introduces the “Celebrity Photographer” who’s been stalking them for the last forty-eight hours.

    The black shrouded easels are revealed. Each has four candid shots of the boys at play, and not everyone was playing nice. On the dark end of the scale, Tate and Jon both have rather compromising bump and grind shots. (I think Jon was set up.) Despite all the stripper footage we were graced with, Hunter’s pics are pretty harmless. Kevin and Maurice sail through. The worst Rob has to deal with is a hilarious pot belly shot. Who knew?

    Paparazzi Guy sagely advises, “If you want to be seen canoodling with the ladies that’s fine, but if any of these guys become A-list…” The rest of his wisdom is drowned out by my laughter. A-list! That’s a good one! *slaps knee*

    “I am not getting bored with Jon Johnson.” – spegs

    Again, heavy sigh, we meet the judges. This week it’s Brucie, Marissa, and some random guy named Omar who manages some agency I didn’t catch the name of. What happened to Brian or Paparazzi Guy? Inconsistency, thy name is Bravo.

    The boys head off to the private room while the judges meet with each individually. Carmen brings out Hunter first. She tells Bruce to be gentle with him—“Keep your belt on.” Bruce thinks this is a strong, epic look from Hunter. Still worried about last week’s brush with the word “feminine,” Hunter asks if he looks more masculine this week. Bruce assures him that this shot is studly. Marissa wants more attitude. Random Omar wants a signature look. Le Tigre, anyone? *flips a look*

    Marissa thinks Jon needs more attitude, too. (I think I can guess which page is up on Marissa’s word of the day calendar.) Omar remarks on the height problem. Bruce calls Jon one-dimensional. “I’m getting a little bored with Jon Johnson,” Bruce tells a crushed Jon. Too bad Jon doesn’t know what Bruce is really saying: “I really wish I could be so pretty like Jon Johnson.”

    Omar can find nothing negative to say about Rob. “I don’t think you know what you’re doing, but you’re doing it right.” Bruce insists that there is always a negative—“What about the ears?” “I have small ears!” Rob snaps back. Yes, Rob, but you have no hair. Bruce, grimacing like every positive word drives a sharp tack into his inner thigh, admits that there are a lot of good things about Rob. “But the next male supermodel? I don’t know.”

    Bruce thinks Tate is not typical, and in a good way. But Omar doesn’t see a supermodel. Tate’s look is out-dated in his opinion. Bruce warns Tate that “bad boys don’t last long.”

    Omar loves Maurice’s “fantastic, today look,” but Marissa sees nothing in Maury’s face. There’s no…what was that word? No attitude, that’s it. Bruce thinks Maurice always looks great.

    “Here is today’s list of the guys who I find threatening.” – The Mole

    Kevin and Omar greet like old friends, sharing a man hug. Then Kevin breaks in to his expert analysis.

    Maurice has no versatility. His best buddy Tate pulls the look off, of course. Rob’s shot is his favorite—whether he wins or not he’s going to be a successful model (the judges universally agree with this). Jon’s shot is good, but it doesn’t do much for our mole (Bruce takes advantage of this to remark, “I’m getting sick of Jon Johnson,” again). Hunter is not a supermodel.

    But the judges really couldn’t care less about Kevin’s “expertise.” They want the dirt!

    When dirt is mentioned, Tate is obviously the first to spring to mind. Kev admits that Tate really isn’t stable enough for the high pressures of modeling. He would need an assistant to get him to his shoots. There’s no work ethic.

    Rob, on the other hand, is a step ahead. He can handle it.

    Jon has no drive. He’s happy enough surfing. Why not send the guy back to his beloved beach? This has nothing to do with the fact that Jon is ten times a pretty as Kevin, nothing at all.

    Kevin smack talks Arkansas, saying that Hunter is so used to seeing nothing that he is overwhelmed by everything around him now. Okay, so that appears to be true. But you just lost that job with the Arkansas Board of Tourism, pal. Kevin doesn’t think Hunter can handle the pressure. Or the distractions—Look! More blue cars!

    “You’re all winners here. Except for the one loser.” – Judge Bruce Hulse.

    Carmen tells the reassembled boys that there will only be one elimination. They are relieved. The five survivors are off to a five star hotel in Puerto Rico. The loser is goin’ home.

    Bruce gives us his juicy, pineapple-sweet, tidbit of wisdom (see section title) and then runs away to hide.

    Carmen gets right down to it:

    Tate. That was your last shot.

    Okay, I know some more stuff happened here. I think the judges cited immaturity as the reason behind the boot. I think the other guys hugged. I think Hunter said something really stupid about going to Puerto Rico—something like, “Bingo man! We’re all the way across the country.” I think Tate even gave a fairly mature, “I didn’t think I would get this far, I can’t wait to see my son,” kind of send off. But I can’t be sure. I was too involved with the dance of joy to take clear notes.

    Next Week…on Manhunt

    The boys go to Puerto Rico. Someone complains, “We’re getting buck naked.” It was not spegs complaining. Swimsuits are modeled by the pool. We are promised “a runway showdown so hot, someone gets burned!” And Hunter’s inner stripper escapes again. Somebody put a leash on that thing!

    Tater party at my place! spegs@fansofrealitytv.com
    "Look, you love me, and I love you. Maybe in a different time, a different place, this would work out. But we both know that only one of us is leaving this room alive, and I'm the one holding the flame thrower." - Film Fakers

  2. #2
    Cy Young 2010 Mariner's Avatar
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    I decided not to quote the entire thing. Awesome as usual spegs! I'm with you on keeping Hunter's inner stripper leashed. What should I bring to the Tater party?

  3. #3
    Picture Perfect SnowflakeGirl's Avatar
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    Your title! The excerpt from Kevin P.'s diary! Tater party invitation (BTW, I am so there, Woman)! Ah, and everything in between, spegs, is delicious and delightful, razor-sharp but never spiteful comic GOLD. *Olympics theme plays*

    Quote Originally Posted by spegs
    I think the Standard Hotel is paying by the second for each shot of the sign outside their building. Which is why I have to look at it again, as if even a last-stages Alzheimer patient could forget where the model boys are staying.

    Inside the Standard, the boys are relaxed. Hunter is really relaxed. So relaxed that even the knowledge that cameras are catching his every move is not enough to keep his hand out of his pants. The fact that the room is full of other people doesn’t seem to bother him either. Must be a guy thing.

    Tate brings in the Tray Mail, but is too hung over to read it. Or possibly he never learned to read (*tears* <-- Oscar clip).

    Shaun’s interviews are almost more senseless and annoying than the comedian panel last week that was paid to be senseless and annoying.

    She asks Tate to do ten pushups, sensing that conversation is not his forte. By my count, Tate only did three. But one of them was one-handed—maybe that’s recognized in fitness worlds as the equivalent of eight regular pushups. Or maybe it’s just that Tate no count good.

    Rob does a spin-pose.

    Hunter brags about his gymnastics background, and then insists on removing his shirt before doing a handstand. Which is vital, because you can really get hurt trying to do handstands with a shirt on—that’s just plain reckless. Shaun hums a stripper tune while Hunter disrobes.

    Jon is asked why he should win. He answers, “Because I make Orlando Bloom look like the wicked witch of the west.” This tanks with Shaun. Under that Ally McBeal suit is a t-shirt that reads “Marry Me, Orlando!”

    Shaun tells the camera that beauty and a dime will get you a bagel in Hollywood; these guys need that something extra in order to get ahead. (Is she really allowed to say the word “extra”?) On a side note, I think my bagel place is ripping me off.

    Oh, those poor, hardworking little modelettes! They deserve a break, don’t they? Let’s take them to the beach—just let them paddle in the waves and throw a football around. No strings attached. Just good, clean fun.[...]Have these boys ever watched a reality TV show??

    This is the guy who gets paid to shimmy up a eucalyptus tree outside Oprah’s compound in order to get a fuzzy shot of her butt crack as she bends over to picks a daisy.

    Carmen introduces the six paid-by-the-hour ladies who will be helping flesh out the teams.[...]The girls look terminally bored. It appears that Bravo didn’t pay for enthusiasm.

    Click, click, click goes Paparazzi Guy’s ginormous camera as he leans oh-so-inconspicuously over the top of his car and points his twelve foot telephoto lens in the boys’ direction. Compensate much?

    I mean, really, what do these girls think? That looks will buy you acceptance? That beauty means you don’t need a brain or a personality? That’s just plain…familiar sounding…

    Inside the White Lotus, Carmen Electra’s nipples are omnipresent. No matter which way you to try to turn your head or squint or peek through your fingers…there they are.

    And remember when I called Rob “Church Lady”? Huh? *nudge nudge* Was I right or was I right? An attractive boy comes on to Rob, but gets the brush off.

    “If you want to be seen canoodling with the ladies that’s fine, but if any of these guys become A-list…” The rest of his wisdom is drowned out by my laughter. A-list! That’s a good one! *slaps knee*

    Okay, I know some more stuff happened here. [...] But I can’t be sure. I was too involved with the dance of joy to take clear notes.

    Someone complains, “We’re getting buck naked.” It was not spegs complaining.
    Thanks again for the good times! I think I laughed so hard I got a good ab workout--wouldn't Hunter be proud!
    Sending good vibes and warm fuzzies your way..., SnowflakeGirl
    All New AMERICA'S TOP MODEL Recaps! Premiere Pt. 1 & Pt. 2, Ep. 3, Ep. 4, Dinah's Dynamite Ep. 5, Ep. 6, Ep. 7, Ep. 8, Ep. 9, Ep. 10, Ep. 11, Finale
    Relive every beautiful moment of America's Next Top Model...Click here for links to prior season recaps & interviews.

  4. #4
    hellooooooo sher's Avatar
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    great great recap, spegs! hysterical!

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    Rude and Abrasive Texicana's Avatar
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    This show has just tainted my love for tigers;forever I fear

    But the recap kicked buttocks!
    " I look like Nigella Lawson with a $#*!ing hangover."

  6. #6
    From the corner of my eye Jewelsy's Avatar
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    Spegs, I'll have to wait to have someone read this to me (my sister read over 20 recaps to me on the phone yesterday) but I'm sure it's AWESOME.

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    Spegs, I don't know how you do it. The show is just so much more enjoyable with your play-by-play.
    I too lament the loss of Paulo. I too rejoice in the elimination of Tate. I too want to kick the crap out of Kevin P.

  8. #8
    Retired! hepcat's Avatar
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    I loved it from start to finish! You are such a talent, spegs. Great job!!
    You've gotta hustle if you want to earn a dollar. - Boston Rob

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    Jon and high fashion

    Jon may not feel comfortable in high fashion shots, but that black and white photo of him in the suit was ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC. really high fashion chic.

  10. #10
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    Once again, amazing

    You're probably tired of reading this, but AMAZING recap! I look forward more to reading your recap than actually watching the show. Of course, unless the guys are naked, then I'm too busy to read your recap... I'm sure you understand.

    Great job!

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