Every time I hear Dr. Phil exhort the wonder of Match.com , I mutter a silent prayer of thanks that I have been off the market for nearly a decade now. So do the folks I used to date, I'm guessing.

All the Top Designers have been summoned back to the White Room for their weekly thrashing. Let's start out with Matt, who is pleased with his contribution to the project: "It wasn't the most glamorous job, but I think organizing, going through 50 boxes of crap that was mixed together is a huge job. It doesn't seem the most creative process, but I thought it was a huge success." Wrong again, dumb-dumb, guest judge Mark Rios says; Matt may have organized all that detritus in a single day, but Rios complains that it wasn't "composed." I hate to generalize, but it's statements like that which probably make a large chunk of the population inclined to whap people in the design business upside the head. If I've got a garage full of junk -- covered in squirrel urine, I might add -- then I could give a good goshdarn about whether it's composed or not; I just want the stuff put away neatly in a way that I can access it later. Is that composed enough for you, Professor Bullcrap? Because if it's not, maybe you can get down off the stool and show us how an artiste gets it done. Otherwise, cram it sideways with walnuts. Rant over; judgment continues.

Goil describes his position as "sort of a mini-Andrea." To demonstrate, he crouches down, though he needn't bother -- it would take a couple of Goil stacked on top of each other to equal one Andrea. Besides, Jonathan is more interested in pointing out how much time Goil spent building the dog bed when he could have been doing other things; Goil looks legitimately crestfallen. Before the judges can get their weekly kicks in at Ryan's expense, he wants to say something first: Everyone looks around like, "Oh God, which one of us is he going to insult now." Calm down, everybody; Ryan just wants to apologize for all his ranting about interior decorators the last few weeks. Jonathan nods his approval. But just as soon as the bridges have been repaired between contestant and judge, Ryan detonates them once more by saying that his creative involvement was minimal and that this was project he'd be unlikely to take on. There's some other babble about "socio-political interest" and how getting rid of stuff will help the Bells feel "cleansed." Jonathan's eye-rolling indicates disapproval. The judges want to talk to Erik about Michael's color choices -- that's not a good sign for you, Michael. Erik's not biting: "Actually, I thought [the colors were] a good idea. Because then we paired it with the canvas, which made it a little more casual, and it actually worked for me." The heck with colors, Jonathan wants to talk about Erik's improvised window treatments, which he says feel "totally fresh and delightful and very different from the other fabrics." Meaning your fabrics, Michael, you deep-purple-loving goon. Speaking of which, Michael defends his color choice by pointing the firm finger of blame at Andrea; besides, if the kids thought the purple was a little grim, they could also flip over the cloth and bask in the loving warmth of... charcoal gray? Really, Michael? "Did you guys at any point say, 'You know what? These aren't the best fabric choices. Should we maybe change the colors?'" Kelly asks. "Andrea, Andrea, Andrea!" Michael says. Or words to that effect. He was just following orders. That brings us to Carisa, who repeats her line about concentrating on the shack to stay out of everyone's way. Jonathan asks if Andrea would have preferred to have Carisa working with the rest of the group; Andrea would have. On the one hand, busted; on the other, that's information that might have been more valuable about six or seven hours ago.