Meow-see TV

Ahhhh, the Pussycat Dolls and their monumental quest to pluck the perfect "girl" from the masses to become the next garter-wearing, booty-shimmying, vibratto-indulging, extension-flipping member of the group.  This, my friends, is the kind of crap TV I live for.

I was exhausted last night after trying to have a normal day and trying to cut back on the miracle-ibuprofen, so I sprawled out on my bed with a frozen pizza and indulged in sixty minutes of stuff-strutting with the PCD-wannabes.

Here's a briefcap:

The 18 "girls" women who made it to the semi-finals were divvied into groups to learn a PCD number. They rehearsed and rehearsed and were awed at the women who sang flat or couldn't grasp the dance moves immediately. 

Of course, a bitchy little choreographer in a scarf I swear I wore constantly during the Lucky Star years and a big old intimidating black dude vocal coach who gave disappointing looks and boot camp inspirational speeches.

Of course, some women were sizing up their competition and of course, there was the obligatory motivational field trip to see the real PCDs in concert and squeals to meet the group backstage. Of course, there were several "I can't believe this is happening to me..." wistful moments.

The awful/awesome parts of this show were:

* Many of the women contracted a stomach virus and spent the days leading up to the final audition passing out and puking. Granted, I really didn't need to see the actual retching (thank you, Fox...I mean, CW), but the drama was nice and high.

* The big speech about how sickness is no excuse for a poor audition while a team of medics, doctors and IVs were at the ready off-stage.

* Nine women were picked in the end  and given cheesey hot pink boas that they will have to surrender as they are eliminated (not as funny as tagged All-Stars, but they'll do).

The women look (not so) surprisingly similar, but I'm gunning for Mariela and underdog/cutie patootie/overarched eyebrowed Chelsea (who sucked it up in the audition but managed to pull her IV out and her ass off of the bed blanket on the backstage floor in time to dance-dance-dance, and I have to give props for that performance). Anastacia, with her incredibly long legs and goooooorgeous bod and goddess hair (even PCD lead singer Nicole commented on her goddessness with an embarassed snicker) seems to be a clear favorite.

And if she isn't, I am sure Tyra will take a liking to her one studio over.

Speaking of America's Next Top Model...flip to it tonight during the 84 Idol commercials. Yeehar. Thank God Kathleen was booted last week. Here's hoping the Greyhound ride home bumped a little sense through her big old mo-helmet of hair. I'm loving bartender Brittany and for some odd reason, wingnutalicious Jael.

OK, people, must. stop. now. My Ms. magazine is screaming politely calling to me after all this flat ab obsessing and Barbie complexing.