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Australian ‘Celebrity Apprentice’ to return next year?

Posted 11/15/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

The Nine Network has reportedly renewed Celebrity Apprentice for another year.

The Australian television network, which premiered the star-studded version of the reality TV show last month, is reportedly very happy after the programme topped viewer ratings again on Wednesday night with Lisa Curry’s elimination.

Although Nine bosses have not confirmed the rumors, television insiders have predicted that a formal announcement of the return of the show in 2012 will take place at Nine’s programme schedule launch on November 23.

Media analyst Steve Allen told the Herald Sun that executives would be crazy not to continue the show, adding: “Celebrity Apprentice is a real asset to Nine.”

This series of Celebrity Apprentice, which is hosted by Yellow Brick Road boss Mark Bouris, still features stars such as Pauline Hanson, Jesinta Campbell, Julia Morris, Jason Coleman and Shane Crawford.

Earlier this week, celebrity agent Max Markson apologised to model and former teammate Didier Cohen after branding him “a self-confessed cocaine addict” shortly before they were both fired in the boardroom.

Mark Wright wears Rambo bandana, but looks terrified jumping out of a plane on I’m A Celebrity

Posted 11/13/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

Lauren Goodger will be laughing into her white wine spritzer when she sees these pictures.

Ex-fiancé Mark Wright has lost his swagger, with terror plastered across his fake-tanned face.

The Only Way Is Essex star is currently in Australia taking part in I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here!, with the first challenge of the series seeing contestants jump out of a plane.

Who said anything about being scared? Mark looks more confident as she buddies up with Crissy.

With scenes due to be televised tomorrow when the show launches on ITV, Wright is seen wearing a Rambo-inspired bandana as he chatters with Crissy Rock, 53, in the plane.

Missing Essex? Mark looks terrified before his first challenge on the ITV reality show in Australia

Showmanship: Mark stuck his tongue out while in the air, never failing to play up to the camera.

Former flame Goodger confessed that she would ‘enjoy watching him squirm,’ telling the Daily Star: ‘There have been rumours I’m going in halfway through as a surprise guest and I would love that. ‘I would love to go in and see the look on Mark’s face. It’d be hilarious.’

Traumatised: Antony Cotton looks to be having second thoughts before his jump.

Moral support: Fatima Whitbread gives Antony an affectionate kiss before his skydive.

Another contestant that appeared to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown before his jump, was Coronation Street star Antony Cotton.

Understandably, the actor held his head in his hands while taking off in the plane and looked anxious before jumping.

I want to go home! Antony closes his eyes to block out the reality of what lies ahead, but manages the thumbs up

Flying! After his initial fear, Antony confronted his demons and jumped.

But even after landing safely on ground, the 36-year-old was still a quivering wreck and needed to be comforted by new friend Fatima Whitbread.

With her sporting background, Whitbread should be able to handle the pressure and adrenaline of the thrill-seeking activities.

Firm friends: Antony and Fatima appear to be forming a bond already as she comforts him after his jump.

Brave: Fatima clearly enjoyed the adrenaline rush as she punched the air after her jump.

When will the rows start? Everyone seems to be getting along a little too well as Fatima offers support to Mark Wright and Antony Cotton, but when the food rations start it is likely to change.

The former javelin thrower and Olympic medalist seems to have struck up an early bond with Cotton, offering kisses before he jumped and generously doling out affection.

Other contestants taking part in the this year’s series and hoping to follow in the triumphant footsteps of last year’s winner Stacey Solomon are Jessica Jane Clement of The Real Hustle, McFly star Dougie Poynter, former jockey Willie Carson and Hart To Hart actress Stefanie Powers.

Brave face: Former Emmerdale actress Lorraine Chase looked relatively calm for her close-up before the jump

Following in Antony’s footsteps: Crissy looked ready to cry as it was her turn to fly through the sky.

Is Hrithik Roshan a threat to Shahrukh and Salman Khan?

Posted 11/13/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

With Hrithik reaching the one million followers mark on Twitter, we wonder if he can overtake the two Khans

When Hrithik Roshan’s muscle-bound wax avatar made a starry entry in Madam Tussauds, it was considered a warning of sorts to the two big Khans of B-town. Hrithik showed that he’s serious competition to Shahrukh Khan and Salman Khan and not just on the acting turf – in terms of mass-popularity too he’s equally potent. And now the 37-year-old Krrish actor just might overtake the two Khans on cyberspace. Yes, Hrithik Roshan has become the third Indian celebrity to cross a whopping one million followers on Twitter. While Shahrukh was the first male Bollywood actor to cross that mark with his undeniable charm, Salman Khan achieved the feat after his famous string of hits like Dabangg, Ready and Bodyguard. Looks like with Hrithik joining the exclusive club, it’s time for the two Khans to start feeling the heat. Will Hrithik race ahead of Salman and Shahrukh? What do you think?

The Biography, By Richard Bradford

Posted 11/13/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

Martin Amis excites many emotions ; anger, laughter, irritation, envy and idolatry being only a few – but the most unexpected one that emerges from this biography is compassion.

Novelists tend to be forged by the experience of anguish, but the “endless cocktail party” in which the three Amis children were brought up would, in a lesser writer, fill a misery memoir. His father, the near-alcoholic Kingsley Amis had, as Richard Bradford puts it, a “limitless taste for adultery” and if his naive young wife Hilly provided their children with love, then the chaos evinced by these pages explains much about his son’s fiction. Certainly by the end of this first biography, the old joke about “Mein Kampf by Martin Amis” being the least likely combination of author and title looks a bitter one.

Where Martin’s elder brother, Philip, struggling out of an adolescence marked by drugs, truancy and failure, was sneered at by Kingsley for becoming a painter, and his younger sister, Sally, died an alcoholic, Martin survived and triumphed. Bradford, the author of a well received biography of Kingsley, covers this ground confidently. Martin’s peripatetic, patchy education, drugs, promiscuity and his father’s remarriage to Elizabeth Jane Howard were overcome by natural intelligence and formidable hard work. Within four years of failing his English O-level, he had won a Congratulatory First from Oxford and was writing for the TLS. He published his first novel, The Rachel Papers, at 23, and became a celebrity.

He had also become a notable success with rich, beautiful, well-connected women, conducting affairs with, among others, Tina Brown, Gully Wells, Tamasin Day-Lewis, Emma Soames, Julie Kavanagh, Lorna Sage, Victoria Rothschild, Mary Furness and Angela Gorgas. How did a man who, as a short, fat, neglected teenager, was noted by Richard Eyre as “so unhappy”, manage to transform himself into the so-called Mick Jagger of literature to whom women flocked? Amis’s life is full of contradictions. Less selfish than Kingsley, cleverer and more sensitive, he is less successful. One of his most interesting early novels, Success, is narrated by two brothers, one short, ugly and totally lacking in confidence, the other handsome, confident and arrogant. It’s a duality which is repeated in many other books, most notably The Information, Dead Babies and The Pregnant Widow, and it’s one which lies at the heart of his flawed brilliance as a writer of fiction – and his media image.

The affairs became press fodder, but just as crucial are the alliances formed during Amis’s time at the TLS and New Statesman, entertainingly described. The Amis-Barnes-McEwan triumvirate was forged in this era, though as important is Amis’s friendship with the polemical journalist Christopher Hitchens (much quoted here). Maybe it was this boozy male braggadocio that made Amis think it clever to review soft porn, and research Money by getting a hand job (alongside “Hitch”) in a New York brothel. Apparently this helped woo his first wife, Antonia Philips, but readers who wish, in Nabokov’s phrase, to “dot every ‘I’ with the author’s head” have had Amis’s served to them on a plate. The illegitimate daughter, the fall-out with Julian Barnes, the adultery, the ludicrous provocations over subjects ranging from Islam to children’s books have all damaged his reputation – almost as much as the increasingly disappointing novels. Now 62, he is guaranteed column inches, but his first novel remains the only one for which he has ever won a prize. Teenagers still adore it.

Bradford is at his strongest when giving detailed readings of the novels, and allowed to criticise them. “In the novels one encounters a magnificent performance … but once the performance is over we are left with little but a feeling of admiration for someone who can use language so brilliantly.” Amis’s journalism and his autobiography Experience, on the other hand, are outstanding because they are not chiefly concerned with this performing aspect. They reveal a humane, thoughtful, observant writer: just as funny but discordant with Amis’s fiction.

While McEwan and Barnes have deservedly won the Booker prize, Amis has not. There is a reason why so many admirers of his early novels, especially Money, have given up on him, and it has everything to do with the “virtuoso intolerance” fostered by his father, his education, and, one fears, the protective adulation of his friends and fans. Bradford’s assertion in the final chapter that Amis is “the most important British novelist of his generation”, puts his biographer firmly into the last camp. Yet Amis could yet become that dazzling blend of Dickens and Nabokov he once promised to be. The struggle is not yet over – though this patchy and compromised biography may well have added to it.

The Party Is Offically Over In St Tropez, At Legendary Pampelonne Beach

Posted 11/13/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

Often regarded as the birthplace of topless bathing and beach clubbing, La Voile Rouge is being entirely dismantled this week in St Tropez.

Its illustrious devotees over the years include Robert De Niro, Cindy Crawford, Roger Moore, Paris Hilton, Kate Hudson and Sylvester Stallone. It has been the place for beach party-goers since it opened 45 years ago.

After decades of putting up with the din of corking champagne bottles, banging music and helicopters depositing clientele, the locals snapped and the beach club has closed after repeatedly violating noise limits.

Jean Roch, the owner of the St Tropez nightclub VIP-Room, was horrified: “It’s a holy site, not just for St Tropez but for the whole world.”

Since it opened in 1966, it was the first beach club to allow topless guests, setting the tone for decadence and hedonism. By night it would turn into a fully-functioning nightclub.

In high season 500 billionaires, celebrities and wannabes packed in around the beach mattresses, the makeshift catwalk and the bar daily.

The club was seen as an ideal haunt for the super rich to flaunt their wealth. It was the scene of a legendary cake and champagne fight between Sylvester Stallone and his friends in the 1980s. Paris Hilton reportedly spent €300,000 in one afternoon of debauchery, as she also opted to pass the afternoon with a champagne fight. The bar does not even accept credit cards, so Ms Hilton would have had to have it to hand in her wallet.

The family who owned the club lost their appeal against the council, and this week French authorities began removing the furniture before the whole site is demolished.

a Formula One family where money goes fast

Posted 11/13/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

After a thrifty childhood, Bernie’s daughters seem to be making up for lost time.

Bernie Ecclestone with ex-wife Slavica (centre), and daughters Petra and Tamara are big spenders beyond belief!

Bernie Ecclestone boasts of knowing everyone who matters. Which isn’t the same as understanding them. Take his glamorous daughters, Tamara and Petra – raised, they will have us know, in the disciplines of hard work and thrift. Tamara, 28, lives in a £4 million Chelsea townhouse, but tells her new TV reality show that she needs somewhere much bigger to store her ever-expanding collection of shoes and designer bags. Petra, 23, already has somewhere bigger – a £50 million, 123-room Los Angeles mansion once owned by entertainment mogul Aaron Spelling, known in his prime as the Abominable Showman. It has a master bedroom the size of a squash court and a climate-controlled car-port for Petra’s new Rolls-Royce.

Not everything is so comfortable in the family fold, however. While the two Ecclestone money-honeys were running riot through everyone else’s recession, Bernie, 81, was last week in court answering some awkward questions about his own spending habits.

The big one related to a payment of £27.5 million to a German financier, currently facing fraud charges in Munich. Bernie, the billionaire boss of Formula One motor racing, says he handed over the money to stop investment banker Gerhard Gribkowsky making false allegations about his tax affairs to the British authorities. Speaking before the case, Ecclestone explained that an HM Revenue & Customs investigation could have cost him lots more, and described the payment as “a bargain”.

This, sadly, was not a term Bernie could apply to the cost of Petra’s recent wedding. In his testimony, he confessed that the final bill for the bash was more than £12 million, including the hire of a medieval Italian castle, appearance fees for the Black Eyed Peas, the American hip-hop crew, and the opera star Andrea Bocelli, vintage champagne and Chateau Petrus at £4,000 a bottle, a banquet prepared by French superchef Alain Ducasse, and a gigantic firework display. Despite all this largesse, and the presence of guests including Eric Clapton and the Duchess of York, the occasion was marred when the best man, having drunkenly failed to locate his own room, staggered into the bridal suite and collapsed in bed for an hour with the newly-weds.

“When my youngest daughter was getting married,” Bernie tersely told the court, “I thought, as father of the bride, that I should pay for the wedding. When it was suggested how much they would be spending on drinks, I thought it was absurd. So I managed to upset my daughter and my wife. Only later did I find out that it cost in excess of £12 million.”

The point of this admission was apparently to show that – for all his reputation for financial control freakery – Mr Ecclestone, a one-time Bexleyheath gasman, can’t know where every penny of his fortune ends up. His interests are held in a web of family trusts and offshore companies that The Economist has described as “a complex tax avoidance scheme”.

But if he wants to know the location of two substantial wodges of it, Bernie need only study the pages of London’s glossy magazines or tune into Channel 5’s new series Billion $$ Girl, starring blonde Tamara as a cross between Paris Hilton and Marie Antoinette.

“People see me as a pointless, really spoilt, empty human being,” she trills as a beautician works on her feet, a coiffeuse fluffs her hair and an earnest PA runs through a long list of emails that appear largely to consist of party invitations.

We quickly arrive at a lively thrash thrown to celebrate the birthday of Tamara’s stockbroker boyfriend, Omar. Two women, naked but for bodypaint, are serving as human greeting cards at the entrance, and a third is lying on a table covered in sushi rolls. “I am aware of the recession,” Tamara gamely tells the latest issue of Grazia magazine.

The younger Ecclette’s new home is thought to be the largest private residence in the United States. Set in six acres of prime Holmby Hills and designed to resemble a 17th-century chateau in the Loire, it makes Hugh Hefner’s neighbouring Playboy mansion look like a janitor’s hut. “Big…?” said Spelling shortly before his death five years ago. “I’m still trying to find the bathroom.”

Aspiring designer Petra apparently sees the house – which has been looking for a buyer for some years – as a good investment and an even better place to raise the large family she wants with her husband, smoothie London business figure James Stunt, 26. She may even be right. For while it is tempting – perhaps obligatory – to caricature the Ecclestone girls as bubble-brained space queens with pole-position credit cards, it isn’t just money that they’ve inherited from daddy. The pair say they mean business, and may yet surprise us.

For a start, Bernie Ecclestone, the tiddler-sized son of a Lowestoft trawlerman, isn’t of the type to spoil anybody. In a 50-year career he has turned Formula One from an enjoyably amateurish pastime pursued by raffish-looking chaps in silk cravats and oily goggles into one of the world’s most glamorous and profitable sports franchises.

“Ruthless” and “feared” are two of the words most often used about Bernie. As a teenager, he had a fondness for things that went fast and noisily, and found fulfilment of a sort as a car and motorcycle racer. He showed some promise, but a crash at Brands Hatch in 1951 ended his competitive career and he moved into race organisation, doing well enough to buy the Brabham team in 1971. Within a decade he had effectively taken over Formula One – marketing it as much as a brand as a sport – and by the late Nineties had amassed a fortune estimated at £2.5 billion.

Divorce from Slavica, a 6ft 2in Croatian former model, put a substantial dent in it, although the pair are said to remain on good terms, taking a shared pride in the successes of their daughters. After all, the girls haven’t had it easy. “When we were children, Dad couldn’t bear it if we left the lights on,” says Tamara. “If we wanted to buy sweets we would have to clean up the dog poo first or take the dogs for a walk. There was a real sense of working for things.” That’s how you get rich.

I’m A Celeb stars’ night in a cave

Posted 11/12/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

I’M A Celeb stars spent their first night on the show in a CAVE.

And they freaked when 10,000 cockroaches fell on them.

Mark Wright, Jessica Jane Clement and Willie Carson looked in good spirits when they joined the other six celebs to begin the series on the Australian coast. But after a glass of bubbly they were whisked by helicopter to the cave, where they slept on ground sheets. Then the bugs were dropped — all through the night.

The scary capers will feature on tomorrow’s launch show at 9pm on ITV. The stars enter the jungle today, with some going in by canoe and others sky-diving.

Freddie Starr barred from show over insurance blunder

Posted 11/12/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

COMIC Freddie Starr was barred from going into the I’m A Celeb jungle last night after an insurance blunder.

Freddie, 68, was not with the rest of the contestants yesterday when they were flown by helicopter to an overnight camp.

Today the other celebs will be taken to the main camp in the Australian bush where the show will start without him.

ITV producers made the decision after paperwork detailing his recovery from heart bypass surgery was lodged with insurers too late and Freddie was told to stay at the show’s luxury hotel yesterday.

At first, it was feared that his no-show was caused by ill health.

But as he lounged by the pool puffing on a cigarette, Freddie told reporters: “I’m all right. There’s no health scare. It’s all down to paperwork.”

Asked if he had seen the doctor, he joked: “Yes, it was about my baby. I’m pregnant. I’m about six months gone.”

Producers are still trying to get insurance for him so he can go into the jungle later.

A show source said: “Even if he gets to join the show he will be missing from the start of the series and won’t have bonded with the other campers so it will be tough.

“It was always going to be a challenge for someone Freddie’s age and weight, but now it’s even a struggle to get him in the show.”

Freddie has admitted he will struggle in the jungle – if he finally gets there.

It will be his first strenuous exercise since a quadruple heart bypass op last year and he has piled on the pounds.

He said: “I want to lose around two-and -a-half to three stone when I get to the jungle. I weigh about 56 stone at the moment, so it will be good for me.”

DJ and TV presenter Pat Sharp is on standby at the hotel as a replacement. An ITV spokesman said: “Due to unforeseen circumstances Freddie Starr is yet to enter the jungle.”

“I Don’t Miss The Kardashians”

Posted 11/12/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

TV interviewing legend Larry King gets a Friars tribute Monday night at the Sheraton.

In anticipation of that glittery gala, I turned the tables and gave Larry a grilling.

Me: Hey, Larry. You’re doing TV specials these days. What else?

Larry: I’ve spoken in Kazakhstan, Slovakia, Moscow, Lisbon, Seoul, Mexico City, and I’m going right after Thanksgiving to Kiev. They know me there! I expect to be doing more TV and radio. I can’t stay retired. I do get to see my kids’ Little League games. The toughest part of not doing a show is when there’s a big story–like the Joe Paterno story. Or when Saddam Hussein was shot or Osama bin Laden was killed. I don’t miss the Kardashians. That’s not a loss.

Me: One of the legendary moments on your show was you asking Paris Hilton what her favorite part of the bible is.

Larry: What did she tell me? That she liked the whole thing! (laughs)

Me: Especially Sodom and Gomorrah.

Larry: Liked Sodom, hated Gomorrah. (laughs)

Me: When you had Brittany Murphy’s mother and husband on to spin her death, I didn’t really believe what they were saying. Did you?

Larry: I didn’t know what to think. I guess you’re right. That was another story that I personally don’t like. They’re part of the nomenclature, they’re part of what social media is today, but as a host, I much prefer the stories that have real meaning in people’s lives. The Joe Paterno story is a classic example-that’s a story way beyond football. It’s a great story of trust.

Me: You know him and think he’s pretty much a great guy. Was he culpable?

Larry: Culpable in that he should have called the police. Why he didn’t call the police–we all have to examine ourselves. Let’s say you’re the executive editor of the Village Voice and a reporter has worked for you for 40 years, he’s your best reporter, he’s won five Pulitzers, and you find out that his chief researcher who’s been with him for 30 years, has molested children. This was reported by someone who saw the act of molestation. Do you call the police or your publisher?

Me: The police. [Pause] And the publisher. You’d have to tell both.

Larry: Yes, keeping knowledge of a crime is a crime. I’ve been interviewing people for 54 years. The one answer we’ve never come up with is…child molester. Why do they do that? Why do people molest children either of their own sex or opposite sex?

Me: Partly it has to do with attacking vulnerable, powerless people. [Pause] On a much lighter note, I can’t wait for your event Monday. By the way, I loved when you used to have Tammy Faye Baker on your show.

Larry: I loved her. She was a wonderful innocent and not so innocent innocent. The night before she died was one of the hardest shows. It was hard to look at her. You knew she was gonna die the following morning. She was never dull. There was something about her that was so likable.

Me: You too! Congrats on your tribute.

Why Won’t Zach and Ashley Score Coitus Points?

Posted 11/12/11 in News | 0 Comments | Write Comment

You know Conan O’Brien, right? Your “favorite” late-night host whose new show you have never seen? Yeah, that guy. Remember how Conan ends every monologue by saying “We have a great show tonight”? And you always wonder if he really means it? And why he keeps saying it? And how close is he to moving to Idaho to become a farmer because no one watches him on TBS? It’s hard to take him at his word, because not every show has been great. That is how I feel when I write the intros to GRTFL scorecards. So I am going to be honest and tell you that last week’s wasn’t a “great show.” But this week? This week is different.

[Does puppet-string dance, flips hair] “We have a great GRTFL for this week [applause]. From Basketball Wives LA, complete loon and wife of Doug Christie, “Crazy” Jackie Christie is on the show [applause]. She will detail the fall of her Basketball Wives empire and use the word “misconscrewed” at least seven times [applause]. [Licks fingers, adjusts eyebrows] From Real World, the attractive dolts Zach and Ashley are here. They will attempt to explain why they avoid having sex like it will give them rabies [applause]. [Unbuttons, then re-buttons suit jacket] Survivor host Jeff Probst is on the show [applause]. Jeff will detail how this week’s Survivor vaulted him into the play-by-play hall of fame [applause]. We also have a special treat: GRTFL scorekeeper Caitlin Mangum will tell the tale of nightclubbing in Miami with the man, the myth, the worldwide leader in smashing his own head into concrete walls, the Situation! [big applause]. [Does Michael Jackson 360 dance move] On to the top scorers!”

“Crazy” Jackie (Basketball Wives LA, Connor): 25 points. It’s hard out here for a dictator. Like Egypt’s Mubarak, Libya’s Qaddafi, and reality TV’s Paris Hilton, “Crazy” Jackie was so drunk on power that she didn’t foresee her ousting via revolution. Throughout the season of Basketball Wives LA, Jackie has played the role of the elder stateswoman of the clan. Trouble in your marriage? Confide in Jackie. Starting a jewelry line for children? Consult with Jackie. Need a partner for morning cocktails? Call Jackie, she’s already had three. This week, Jackie learned just how volatile the position of power in any social, political, or professional circle can be. The other “wives” gathered to discuss their relationship with “Queen Bee” Jackie and learned that she had been isolating them, lying to them, and turning them against each other. When they confronted Queen “Crazy” Jackie as a group (5 + 5 + 5 verbal fighting points = 15 points), she reacted the only way she knows how — with unfiltered, unadulterated, unbridled crazy talk. This week’s GFTFL Top Five is the top five things that “Crazy” Jackie said that would never come out of the mouth of a non-psychotic person, listed in order from “Meh, that’s not that bad” to “Who is this woman and what does she look like because I need to be on watch at all times”:

5. “My daughter hates me. One of them.”

4. “If I am going away, and even if I go for only three days, my hubby is coming.”

3. “I am the first lady of the bleeping league. Period. That’s it. I have been here, done that, 16 or 17 years. You little punks is new to this. I am true to this. You all want to be Jackie Christie but you can’t do what I do, you can’t walk in my shoes.”

2. “You are off the island. I am the island. You know what I mean? I am the main course. You guys are all trying to be in my world.”

1. “I want to take a stone and stone they ass for 15 minutes.”

0. “You are really trying to take this to another level, you lying cows.”

OK, you caught me, I added a sixth. I just had to get “you lying cows” in there somewhere. After watching her try to fight her way out of the emotional corner and seeing how distraught she was about being usurped as the Basketball Wives dictator (5 + 5 crying points = 10 points), I honestly started to feel bad for her. Then I realized that she’d just called herself the main course, and the rest of the women cows, and threatened to take a stone and “stone they ass for 15 minutes.” I stopped feeling bad and started rooting for the other women to drive her into a murderous rampage in which she assaults any attractive female under the age of 30 with the heel of her Louboutin. The NBA owners and players aren’t negotiating about the split of basketball-related revenue in those New York conference rooms. They have that figured out. They’re in there now brainstorming ways to avoid another “Jackie Christie Situation.”

Zach and Ashley (Real World, House and Jacoby): 25 points each. Zach and Ashley refuse to have sex with each other and it’s not innocent or cute. It is annoying and weird. But don’t take my word for it.

Frank on Zach and Ashley: “The thing about Zach and Ashley is, it is like watching a corny Taylor Swift video unfold. I do not understand why he hasn’t just taken Ashley to Pound Town.” [I have no idea what Pound Town is, but it is now officially part of my everyday vernacular.]

Sam on Zach and Ashley: “Ashley and Zach are not having sex. What I want to know is, why aren’t they?”

And who is most annoyed by this? Ashley.

Ashley on Zach and Ashley: “I was thinking that with alcohol involved, maybe something would happen, but neither one of us investigated.”

Ashley on Zach and Ashley: “I am not getting laid tonight … but I am horny!”

And why wouldn’t Zach sleep with this woman, whose body is so hot that scientists have taken her DNA so when they figure out human cloning they can give every female her derriere?

Zach on Zach and Ashley: “Some guys have self-control and are heroes, like me.”

Zach on Zach and Ashley: “Do I want to knock boots? Sure I do, but would a respectful cowboy do that?”

Yes, Zach. A respectful cowboy would do that. At this point your respectful refusal to coitus this woman has been eclipsed by the damage that not-coitusing her has caused. Your not-coitusing Ashley led to Ashley’s crying (5 points) and an argument with Sam/Eminem (5 points).

Listen up, ladies, and learn a trick from your buddy Jacoby: Part of Ashley’s seduction technique involved buying Zach $500 cowboy boots for his birthday. Bad play. The right move would have been to aggressively flirt with his buddies, who were visiting for his birthday. When he feels for one second that you might actually have grown tired of his refusals and moved on, do you know where you are going? Pound Town. I am really digging this whole Pound Town thing. Let’s see if I can work it in again later.

Priscilla (Real World, Simmons): 25 points. Priscilla is a young, tanned, soon-to-be-heavily-tattooed 19-year-old from San Diego. She is very attractive. When you heard her ex-boyfriend was coming to visit, you just assumed he would look like the badass bassist from some Pitchfork buzz band you pretend to be familiar with, and that over the course of their relationship, she played the role of innocent high school sweetheart, oft-cheated-on but happily in denial. When he pulled up on a motorcycle your assumptions were all but confirmed. Then he removed his helmet. Priscilla’s boyfriend, Dylan, just beat Darth Vader in the “most surprised at what was under the helmet” championship. He looked like someone playing a nerd on a UPN sitcom. Pimples, red hair, freckles, no sign of facial hair — the guy was a pair of broken glasses away from a Halloween costume. Somehow this fella Dylan took Priscilla to Pound Town (25 points). Hey, Dylan, propose to this woman before she realizes that 99.5 percent of males are better looking, better hangs, and better lays.

Frank (Real World, Connor): 20 points. Frank, who is “curbing his drinking” at the insistence of his therapist, cried when his boyfriend, Michael, left the house (20 points). I can’t wait until the inevitable episode in which Frank ushers this relationship to a dramatic close with a drunken rampage. Getting into a relationship with Frank is like building your dream house at the base of a live volcano — great until you have to run for your life.

Whitney (Survivor, Connor): 10 points. Is it me or do women from the south crank up the ol’ southern accent when their backs are to the wall? At tribal this week, Whitney realized she would soon be voted off, so she not only turned up the accent but brought on the tears, as well (5 + 5 = 10 points). If any female stranger with a southern accent and tears streaming down her face asked me for a kidney on the street, in less than 40 minutes I’d be on an operating table.

Sam (Real World, Lane): 5 points. During Sam’s argument with Zach (5 points), Zach started pointing at Sam and yelling in his best “tough guy” voice, “Whatchu gonna do? Whatchu gonna do?” Everyone who’s ever seen 10 minutes of WWF wrestling fully expected him to tear his shirt off and finish with, “When Hulkamania runs wild on you?” Mind you, Zach is a 6-foot-4 football star and Sam is a petite lady who resembles Eminem. Quite a “respectful cowboy,” that Zach.

Draya, Malaysia, and Laura (Basketball Wives LA, various GRTFL teams): 5 points. Nothing brings a group of Basketball Wives together quite like their mutual hatred of another Basketball Wife. After these ladies toppled the “Crazy” Jackie empire (5 points apiece), Malaysia addressed the group with an old reality TV staple: “Through it all, I mean, we may argue and bicker and fight, and we have been through hell and back, but we still have each other’s backs and it made me trust you guys even more.” Mind you, earlier this season Malaysia attempted to kill Laura with a high heel. In my book, that is not “having each other’s backs.” But I probably just have it “misconscrewed.”

Sophie (Survivor, Jacoby): 0 points. Sophie negated the 10 vomit points she earned by putting flair on her vote card (-10 points). However, her performance in the challenge added Jeff Probst’s call to the list of epic play-by-play calls in the history of sport. In the pantheon of historic play calls — right alongside “Down goes Frasier,” “Steal by Bird,” and “Do you believe in miracles?” — will be Jeff Probst’s call of Sophie in the challenge. Notice how he dramatically builds and releases tension to the audience: “Sophie almost vomiting … Sophie almost spitting it up … Oooooooooh, Sophie can’t keep it down!” Take that, Vin Scully.

And now, in lieu of this week’s message board, I would like to introduce Grantland Reality TV Fantasy League super-scorer Caitlin Mangum, with a tale to tell about a recent encounter with the one, the only, Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino.

Caitlin Mangum: Having watched every episode of Jersey Shore, keeping track of every boob adjustment and grenade smush for the GRTFL, I thought I knew more about the cast than even they did. But after a chance run-in with the Situation last weekend, I realized that he was far from what I expected.

I was at LIV nightclub in South Beach last Saturday night. At some point, my friend Lauren and I wandered past the bouncers and into the VIP area, where she chatted up a man claiming to be the club owner. After a few minutes, he asked us if we wanted to meet “Mike.”

“Mike who?” Lauren asked.

“Mike from Jersey Shore,” he replied.

“Is that that Pauly D guy?” (I know. I need new friends.)

With that, the “club owner” grabbed Lauren’s hand and led us to the Situation’s table.

Some immediate takeaways upon meeting the Situation: First, the man is pretty unassuming. At 5-foot-11 I’m no waif, but I had several inches on the Sitch. Second, considering the Jersey Shore boys spend so much time talking about GTL, I was surprised Mike wasn’t bigger. I am not one to swoon over an oversize triceps muscle, but I thought I would at least be mildly impressed.

Anyway, bottle service was flowing, and while I was eager to sip some Situation-endorsed protein vodka, there was none in sight. So we had to settle for champagne and Belvedere. Mike was surrounded by an entourage of graphic-tee-wearing guys, who seemed happy to step in to pinch-hit after the Situation had taken the at-bat with every female who wandered over.

All of that said, not only was the Situation very nice, but he did not speak in the guido puns and pickup lines I expected. Rather, he chatted for a few minutes about how he was on vacation in Miami for a few weeks and how much he enjoyed meeting fans. Fist-pumping was kept to a minimum, and he mostly just danced in place.

Eventually it turned into four in the morning, and the scantily clad table dancers were replaced by a dancing Smurf (seriously, full Smurf costume), so Lauren and I decided to make our way home. As we left, I texted some of my friends to tell them about my run-in with Jersey Shore’s favorite battering ram. Each wrote back immediately and asked me if the Sitch had tried to pick me up. The answer, somewhat embarrassingly, was no. Should I take offense to the fact that Mike did not try to lure me back for a late-night hot tub? Oh well. I went home and cooked my own five-course meal with the comfort of knowing I didn’t have to schedule an emergency OB/GYN appointment in the morning.