Make Me A Supermodel
Meet The Models

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Meet The Models

Where am I? Really, I'm asking, because... don't I normally recap the brainy shows that no one really watches because there are so many words and people having like, emotions and stuff, and human interactions of deep meaning? Kind of, anyway? When Wing Chun assigned this to me, I know she was laughing. I have never really watched reality shows -- especially the ones that actually involve reality of some kind. Now, Rock Of Love, I've watched that shit -- but those people aren't real, right? I've been around the block a few times, and I am fairly certain there aren't that many women who could even force themselves to claim that they'd want to have sex with Bret Michaels...

All right, let's get on with it this painful ordeal and "meet" the "models."

Here's the premise, which will no doubt sound familiar to you: the blazing-hot Niki Taylor and the equally-smoking Tyson Beckford went all over the country (or, you know, sent people to a couple of cities) to find thirty-five hopefuls who could then be brought to New York to have their hopes raised, where they would immediately have them shattered and dashed when the group is whittled down to fourteen finalists.

Tyson: "How hard is it to take someone from the street to turn them into a supermodel? It's almost the chance of you winning the lottery."

And frankly, that must be true, because Tyra's been trying this for a while, right, and it has yet to work. But look, we're just starting out, here. Niki shares some further insight about the process:

Niki: "When you put an open call out, you pretty much get a whole bunch of different people."

Oh, really? Now, listen, let me say a word or two about Niki Taylor. She is beautiful. And she is a mother. And she is a bazillionaire who does not even need this job because she's been through a lot in her life and is already rich and famous enough, and...she had that really bad wreck...so let's please refrain from making her look dumb on TV. She's been through too much. Anyway, they start out in Dallas, where I'm told in a painfully written voiceover that the beautiful people are prepared to strut their stuff. One guy in particular, Niki hesitates to tell us, seemed to be confused on the concept of what was going on with that whole "supermodel" thing.

Tiny Blond Hipster Queen, Possibly High on X: "Well, um, the models that I've seen on y'all's tv shows? Um? I don't like them?"

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Make Me A Supermodel

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