MPDP appears in a pair of tastefully ripped and worn jeans and a white t-shirt which has caused as much reaction on the forums as Frank would were he to appear in a tutu. It's a white t-shirt with puffed cap sleeves and a black and white drawing of...well, it's anybody's guess. I thought it was supposed to be Keith Richards, but other people have guessed Alice Cooper, Lisa Lisa, David Bowie, Steven Tyler, and Jim Morrison, among others. The more I think about it, the more I think it's Keith Richards. It looks a bit like that photo of him by Ethan Russell in the early '70s, in which Richards is leaning near an anti-drug sign at an airport (something like that, anyway). But I'm not sure it's a good idea to think harder about MPDP's clothes than she does. MPDP has seen fit, for reasons best known to her and God, to clip the left side of her neckline with a pin that looks like a metallic barrette. My husband (the usually understated Professor Frink, who has declared that for the purposes of this episode he would like to be referred to as P. Frinky), asks, "What's with the shoulder pads?" I explain that she's not wearing any shoulder pads; it's just a badly designed shirt with really ugly sleeves. He gives me the same look he always gives me when we see some woman in a miniskirt, nylons, and high heels picking her way along an icy sidewalk or shivering her ass off at a bus stop in Siberian weather. Anyway, MPDP informs us that she's in Van Nuys, where they've found "four hip homeowners, hoping for some rockin' new living rooms!" P. Frinky declares the rock clichés "already excruciating." Dude, we're, like, a minute into the show. Brace yourself.
Keyboardist Teddy Andreadis and his wife, Lisa want their room "tuned up" with colour. Their neighbours, JT and Rick, want a woman's touch added to their living room. Cut to a tattoo parlour, where Gen and Laurie are getting crummy-looking fake Trading Spaces tats on their biceps. Laurie pretends to be suffering excruciating pain. She should listen to MPDP's puns. Amy Wynn watches. MPDP grinds her hips and growls that it's "all about time, budget, and rock and roll!" Oy. We may need sex and drugs to get through this. Consider yourself advised. I would just like to register my objection to having a show involving rock musicians and failing to assign Hildi, thereby depriving me of the many Appetite for Destruction and Welcome To My Nightmare jokes I could have otherwise made. Thanks for nothing, Trading Spaces. Sheesh.