Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Querulous Queries

Is it just us and our feelthee, feelthee minds, or are Emily's true colors emerging in this photo? And by color we mean the red of her face, almost as red as a lychee, flushed, sweating, agog with delight. Is she copping a feel? That hand seems suspiciously in a limpet-like clamp on Spice Rack's fun bags (the woman who said to Josie, "Can I have a kiss?").

Our senses astir, we long to quote from Second Lady Lynne Cheney's soulful, swooning, Sapphic sagebrush bodice-ripper, Sisters: “The women who embraced in the wagon were Adam and Eve crossing a dark cathedral stage—no, Eve and Eve, loving one another as they would not be able to once they ate of the fruit and knew themselves as they truly were.” On a dark reality show stage, and having eaten of the lychee fruit, Buxom Betty and Butch Cassidy knew themselves as they truly were.

Someone please, please enlighten us. Are those things on Marcel's feet flipflops or do they "rise" to the level of mandals? Are they merely chanclas? And is he wearing bellbottom jeans? Our synapses aren't firing fully, but if you didn't know that was Marcel, wouldn't you have said it was Cher? We seem to remember a similar pose from Cher, that louche, odalisque-like crossing of the legs, that Avedonish flair of insouciant surrender.














Our pal Poptarticus is right; we did miss guest judge Ming Tsai leering at Padma's posterior. However, didya get a load of this, the way the translator/bodyguard/Oddjob is looking at Padma's prosciutto? We can't get over the pigtails and the terrible posture, but Oddjob is clearly thinking about sea urchin. Perhaps he's seen the picture of Padma in the silver lamé bikini atop the live lobsters? Seafood doesn't get fresher than that, and neither, apparently, do bodyguards who aspire to be cunning linguists (that's two James Bond puns in one post; this household cleaner stuff is good).

Finally, we knew that Kenmore was a series sponsor, but when did Pillsbury get in on the action? We expect to see Tom Colicchio get all Bill Murray and Harold Ramis on his floury Central Valley ass tonight.

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