← Long Winded with Gabby Windey
Long Winded with Gabby Windey
Alysa Liu and ANTM
00:56:01
this week we talk about the fearlessness of being yourself as we’ve seen in the USA ice skating Olympics team and the tragedy of Americas Next Top Model.
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And welcome back. Welcome back to another episode of Long Winded. I know you missed me. And I'm drinking green tea because I'm exhausted out of my favorite mug. Let that shit go. But ironically, I don't let anything go. I keep it tight. I hold it dear. I'm full of resentment and regret and caffeine that cometh from this cup into my gullet to get me through this. And I just had a blueberry shake, so I might have it in my teeth and in my mouth, but there's nothing I can do. I have to get. I have to get this done. Okay? And I just got a facial. And of course I'd rather be relaxing after my facial. But you know what they say, you shall work until you die. Make sure to work now and you will enjoy dead later. If you dedicate yourself to work so much, you will almost most definitely still die. So why don't you work? They say. So here I am working for you. And if you're not working, you're cooking dinner. And if you're not cooking dinner, you're cleaning the kitchen, aren't ya? And if you're not cleaning the kitchen, you're doing laundry. And probably your boyfriend's laundry, which is riddled with skin marks. You have to wear those rubber gloves. And if you're not wearing the rubber gloves to clean off your boyfriend's skin marks, you're taking out the trash. And if you're not taking out the trash, you're scooping the kitty litter. And if you're not scooping the kitty litter, you're making the bed as you should be doing every morning because it says that you'll be More successful. Who says? And who cares? But if you're not making the bed, you're scrubbing off all the white stuff that comes back and comes back and comes back all over your sink. It's not just toothpaste at this point. It's calcium deposits and God knows what, who, where, when, is in our water of Los Angeles. But it's not coming out. And if you're not scrubbing that white stuff, you're scrubbing the toilet. And tell me this, is there just shit at the bottom of the toilet Brush cleaner, because you use it to clean shit and then put it back in the literal box full of watery shit. Are you eevee cleaning your toilet at that point? What are we all doing? Cause we're all thinking the same thing, but nobody does anything about it. And if you're not thinking about the toilet bowl brush, then you're fighting with the drain flies that are throwing a coup against you. I can't relax. They're costing my existence. I step into the kitchen, turn on the water, and microscopic gnats flood the empty atmosphere. And I run for the electric fly swatter. But they're too fast and too nimble, too determined to ruin my life. I can't get them. I can't. And then they're too small to fit through the fly swatter. So I look. I look like a deranged electrocuter trying to save my own life. Because they're trying to ruin it. These flies, these gnats, these fruit flies, these drain flies, whatever the fuck they are. So I spend hours, hours a day, thrice a day, swinging at these honey. I shrunk the flies with just enough grace to put them to the electrocution chair. Much like Eileen Wuornos. She was a hero. But these gnats are the villain of all of our existence. They could never be Eileen Wuornos. They're not a feminist. They're misogyny wrapped in a little bug with little wings. You're losing your mind, seeing tiny bugs everywhere. But are they really there? Feeling phantom itches all over your body, on the web of your thumb. But you look down and there's nothing bit. The fruit flies have pilfered your sanity in vain. Wallet has no brain. And dear God, don't even tell me. I know what you're thinking. I've tried the apple cider vinegar, I've tried the little cup of wine with soap. But they're not drowning themselves. It's not strong enough. They'll still procreate, those little Twinkie maggots having sex with themselves and reproducing at a rate faster than the since the Wile E. Coyote. I don't know what else is fast, but like, maybe half of you won't get the metaphor. So then I tried the Green Goblin, the drained syrup. It retaliates against the attempted governmental overthrow by these little flies. However, I unwisely choose to save on packaging and get it delivered with other Amazon packages and wait days on end while the insurrection continues to exponentially multiply. This is the last time I ever click a save packaging deliver with the rest. And what was what was my dear partner, my dear wife Robbie doing when I was out of town and this regime change was taking over? Did she just let it happen? She sat back and waited for the Queen to take power. But it is finally settling down the infestation and I will miss the electric flyswatter, I have to say. But remember, if you do not experience death by work, it shall be by drain fly. I don't know if you guys have ever had them, but I do not recommend there's no way to get rid of them. But I am actually. But I can't even tell you what I've been through. It's too difficult and you wouldn't understand
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Planning a wedding shouldn't feel overwhelming. The Knot brings everything together in one place. Vendors who get your vibe, a custom planning checklist, guest list tools, and a free wedding website that syncs with it all. So instead of juggling a dozen apps and spreadsheets, you can actually enjoy getting married. Get started@theknot.com audio the knot let's plan your wedding together.
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Now onto my next favorite topic. Gen Z the Gen Z representation of the Olympic ice skaters. To be exact, Generation Zeta Zeta Zonga gets a bad rap, but they are teaching us something as we watch the Olympics. Olympics, Olympics. Not how to do a quadruple quad spin around on ice. Because I adore my ACLS and I'm merely not interested in balancing on two knives on slippery ice. That's for you. That is for the dangerous and not for I. That is for the fearless and I am so afraid that is for the nimble. But my legs. A Bambi, the Zoomer teaches us the beauty of being different on the global stage. Sorry if it's trite, but what else is it? It's a global stage. It's a stage. It's kind of elevated. I don't know. The ice rink is kind of the opposite of elevated. De. Elevated. But we get it. The whole world is watching. The global census is watching the stage. But a gold medalist, Alyssa Liu, who is But a mere 20 with the choice of a hair. A chic reminder of the hamburglar of the locks, the power a zebra carries within its stripes. A prisoner of one owns mind. And this is a compliment of the striped black and white hair. How I would never. How dare I? I wouldn't dare insult a gold medalist with blades on the powerful heel of her foot. I have learned from the cinema of I, Tonya. I know what happens when they get all pissed off. The point is that she's different and she's unique and she wants to show it off. And she's not shy about it. And she has the fortitude to defy social norms that are put on women in sports, especially feminine sports, especially sports where you're supposed to wear a sparkly little dress and shake your little ass. And not to mention, she is half Chinese. So we also see someone of a different culture on our global stage, representing the US of A. But I know you'll never find a Mexican on that ice, because we do not dare touch a cold ground. We like a warm one. But Alyssa Liu, she presents as alts and emo. Are the times a changing a you in the face of high standards of traditional femininity? She's gonna pick her own music. She's gonna wear what she wants to wear. She's gonna dance what music she wants to dance to now. She's gonna act how she wants. She's gonna do it all. She's gonna embody her own personhood. She's rebellious and irreverent. A sign of the woman I strive to be. And I am not much, but I am older than her. All of this while being a prodigy of an ice skater. From such a young age, we know she has taken breaks from the stress of training thrice a day in a mere 24 hours since she was five years old. Someone calls CPS. Whose little body can handle that? Her scan. But how's she going to fuel all this athleticism? She needs a carb, God damn it. And a semblance of a normal childhood life. And she Advocates for herself and she still wins the gold. But I'm telling you, I'm telling you not to get any ideas. You and me would not be able to have a normal life and win the gold in the Olympics. No, she's a different sort. She is a prodigy. We are mere laymen and you don't have any ice skate foot coordination. So we have to remember she has some supernatural skill. She's the youngest person to ever do a triple axel. So, like I said, we don't have her skill. But we would have to train until our thighs bled under our fascia. Here's the fascia again. The good godforsaken fascia which plagues me still. I just came from a leg therapy session where they bang on them and bang on them and bang on them and use different machines to hope to God save my legs, which I've been fighting for two months now. But mind you, Alyssa Liu did pay her bleeding dues. Never mind that she skates so incredibly fast, like she's skating away from a polar bear waiting to break the ice and eat her for breakfast. Oh, I bet she's tasty. The Coca Cola bear thinks she doesn't taste like cola, but he doesn't know that until he takes a bite. If she is too slow. But we know she's fast. She's so fast, she's skating away from Hudson Williams, who haunts her in her dreams. And she's getting away from the cultural norms and. Which gives her hairdresser a reason to quit. For in her eyes, the male gaze has been vanquished. And media outlets are so obsessed with Gen Z, the sexless generation. Well, why shan't the Zoomers want a zoom, zoom, zoom and a boom, boom? Maybe, just maybe. Who is that? Not Barbra Streisand, but the other one, Barbara Walters. Maybe because they have learned not to condition themselves to be an object of the male gaze. You ever thought of that in your old age? I don't think so. Or maybe because they're not answering whatever lewd sex censuses you're sending to their house in the mail. Yes or no? Do you fuck? Yes or no? Were you born in between? I forget the years. Nobody's answering your questions because it's none of your business. So how are you getting this data? Or maybe it's because they're gay. Because we're all a little gay. And as we know, the zoomers listen to themselves and let the pendulum swing away from the servitude plaguing femininity. A lesson we can all learn From a mere 20 year old how confident she is. She is who she is and she will not atone. Not around here she won't. I just. And there's this conversation around these young women's bodies and I despise it, which I now perpetuate by talking about it. But she's literally athletic. They're like, oh, all these figure skaters used to be sticky and she's defined the norms. Can you not. She's 20 and she's literally thin and she has stalwart limbs capable of things you and I can never dream of. Why are we commenting on her body when we're running out of breath? Handshaking, heart pounding, mind fatiguing at a speed of 5.3 on the treadmill while she's going at a rate of a cheetah 60 miles per hour on slippery ice. I don't know how much muscle you have to pack in that tiny little body to do the exponentially multiplied turns with one leg up in the air touching her button nose. Why does it matter? I get they're making a comparison. Maybe back then we had these high standards on women and femininity and they had to be thin. But she is not, not thin. Stop talking about it. Don't even bring it up. Let us just see with our eyes. And she is maybe the best we've ever seen in that gold dress, spinning and doing that slide on the floor from here to there in a full blown leap right in the middle. She toe touches and it appears like she is enjoying herself. I do question that. Who knows what that's like? A sentiment that shall never fall on my head from the coconut tree. And I do have to say. I, I do have to say this is an unpopular opinion or one that we haven't heard in the conversation. But listen, I, I have the literal mic here. You came to me and we talk. I. There's a lot of conversation about how crazy her story is. Her childhood being one of five children raised by a single father who. He has an incredible story. He is a Chinese political refugee and fled to the States and then got a law degree and he really wanted to have kids by the time he was 40. So he had. He had the five kids. How did he get the five kids, you may ask if your head is literally underground and you haven't heard this story. Let me tell you. He used anonymous egg donors and surrogacies to have all of these children. So it's like, dang, I don't know. That's a lot of kids, maybe save some for the rest of us, but then he wouldn't have an Olympian daughter. And speaking, you know, of egg donation from different women and surrogacy of different women, naturally my mind goes right to women's rights. You know, he didn't just have one surrogate, but multiple. And I understand all of this is a larger ethical discussion and maybe dilemma, if you will. And I haven't been a surrogate, nor have I used a surrogate. So I'm just speaking about my opinion, which I'm allowed to do. I'm not saying there's a right or wrong, but surrogacy could be seen as using a woman's body as just a vessel. Times, you know, three times. The last surrogate had a triplet, which I don't know if she knew she was going to have. I don't know how many eggs they pump into these surrogates to make sure that they stick. How many eggs are you using from the egg donation? How many, you know, treatments of hormones and pain do these other women have to go through to donate their eggs again? And these women are getting compensated and they have autonomy. But. But is money worth your own body being deduced to simply a vessel or just an egg with nothing else attached? And three times, you know, in order for. For a man to have five children. It's just a thought that. Again, I'm not saying there's right or wrong, but we are talking about this story a lot, so I would like to talk about it further, which I just did. So anywho. And then there's this gay ice skater, Amber Glenn. I don't know what she calls herself. Bi, pan, big lezzer, little lezzer, or queer, but it doesn't really matter. The appellation matters. She's unafraid to be different and be herself and put men on the back burner. And she says this loud and proud. And the power of gay women on a global stage. Who has seemingly most seen the straights of the womankind until now competing in this sport. You know, you have. It's like it's a pretty heterosexual sport because they do the couple things with the man and the woman. I want to see a woman and a woman do that couple thing. But if. And if she's proud to be gay while doing a toe flip of a sort, a wheelie, maybe what they call it, some sort of a camel toe move, I dare say with pride being gay, I am standing on my two feet planted on the earth. If she is on the Ice. And she screams. She laments a dragon breathing fire of the pains of a sloughing uterus turning into ambrosia food for the demon you shall bear. Or red blood on your unmentionables for the demon you shall not bear. Who never made it ideal. You think I want to wear a tight dress? She condemns. On my period. You think I want to wear a tight sparkly dress? You think I'm feeling myself in this little get up? No, I'm bloated into my ankles giving me a thankle a thigh ankle times two. I'm heavy with the fluid my body naturally creates around this time of month just because I have an XX chromosome. And you expect me to go on and heat my body high in the air on ice knives and spin around a couple times when my body turns its back against me? You want me to jump high like that with this water weight? Why don't we reschedule in a few? Give me a couple days off Olympics. Why don't we make another country go first? Because I'm on my period and it should be treated as such. What I need, she says, is a steak packed with iron and a heating pad and a Midol. Chase with a Xanax. Chase with a sativa chased with a CBD joint. I need to tend to meet a cursed uterine organization. And these are the young women of the representation of our country. These are the young women representing our country of the US of A. They're saying these things loud and proud. They're showing up different and gay and loud and proud. And I bet the far right and even the proximal right hates it. Filled with pretext they are for. They don't know why they hate it, except probably because they're all a little gay as well and they hate themselves. And when they're angry, we know we did something right. Isn't that the truth? And then there's the one. There's the ice skater from New Jersey in which I have no information at all except that she's from New Jersey so she dares to be different. I gotta take a sip. It's getting me all riled up. You know when you're so sick of water you can't take one more sip of water because you're over waterloaded and your sodium must be low because you've been drinking so much water, so you reach for something else. You need a bubble. You reach for a poppy. Because sparkling water sometimes may hit, but sometimes you need a little soda to change your vibes. Poppy. Absolutely Hits that spot with mouth watering and refreshing sodas and tons of flavors from strawberry, lemon to orange to classic cola. It just makes opening up your fridge exciting. Which kind am I gonna get today? Which kind is gonna burst that flavor into my mouth and make me want to. And poppy soda has ingredients you can love. Prebiotics and 5 grams of sugar. 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Robbie knows I love merch, so she just brings me like sweatshirts and T shirts all the time and I had no idea whose merch I was wearing. So I was like, I have no idea whose merch I was wearing on FaceTime. And she was like, drew. And I'm like, who's Drew? And she's like Drew Barrymore. So shout out. It's really comfortable. But onto a different cultural phenomenon of years past. Not Drew Barrymore and ET A direct contradiction to the 2.5 ice skaters aforementioned. The 0.5 being the one from New Jersey. A painful reminder of where we've come as women. How we used to be treated. Our weight being scrutinized, inciting many an eating disorder and a nervosa. Our faces being judged on what is pretty, what is not for them to say. For they are not the eye of the beholder. Instead the eye of the forbaden judgment. Women's endurance being tested with verbal abuse and devilish manipulation by a gorgeous, money hungry, fame hungry, avaricious, look it up. Supermodel herself, Tyra Banks of America's Next Topic Model. I watched it. I watched a three part docu and it wasn't easy. It's honestly so diabolic, diabolical. It's hard to concisely talk about how scrupulous this show was. It's dark. If you haven't. If you haven't watched it and you're like, should I watch it? I honestly don't recommend because it was kind of hard to get through. But I know, I feel like since TikTok and since we're all having a form of nostalgia, we brought back America's Next Top Model, which I did Watch as a mere baron. And I remember watching America's Next Top Model but then my eyes were wide shut. I had no idea this was abuse, for it was similar to the way my own mother spoke to me and treated me. I thought Tyra was the deist omniscient God of the supermodel world, spreading her gospel and how to make these beautiful women successful. And now I know better, don't I? But I did wonder. I did wonder back then and today. Where was the Top Model? Nobody ever became America's Next Top Model. That was the whole point. They weren't on the COVID of magazines, they weren't on billboards. They weren't nowhere to be seen. A facade, a fraud, a fascia blasting Farquad. Hiding in plain sight. Tyra Banks, such a success of a show featured on upn, they say, which no one in the world has ever heard of. You didn't save upn, Tyra Banks. It's neither dead or alive. It's invisible. It's floating upon the ether. And this show on UPN I guess consisted of proprietary themes all shown right on your UPN tv. These include racism. Not only cultural appropriation, but any kind you could think of. Many episodes, not just one. America's Next Top Model received one episode of America's Next Top Model received backlash for the models, faces and bodies when they were painted to exemplify a culture that is not their own. Like why are we doing this? What is the point? This is not something in the realm of model. And the devils took it a step further in one episode to photograph the models not only of appropriating a different culture with paint all over their body and their skin in their face, but they photographed toddlers with the models of the appropriated culture. Why must you bring a baby into it? So if someone was appropriating, I think to be like Egyptian was one of them. And then they brought in an Egyptian baby. Why are you bringing a baby into it? The baby did not have consent to be used as a ploy in your sick game. 3 year olds do not have autonomy over whether they want to be involved and used as a prop to exploit their culture. They're too young, they don't know what they're doing. But who's signing off on this? I hope they're getting paid a lot, I guess. And how much are they working? You can't make a three year old work for a long time. They get 20 minutes and then they need six hours off. It didn't look like they were treating them Fair. I know these. I know these photo shoots take a long time, but having a child of the photograph with the model of the appropriated culture makes it seem in their ignorant eyes, in their mind's eye, makes it seem more real, makes it seem okay, makes it seem more marketable. I don't know. I can only assume these things for there's no real reason for this idiocy and I don't actually know where their heads were at, but it wasn't in a good place. And then Tyra goes on. In one episode she claims one model's gorgeous dark skin was too dry for modeling and costed too much money to be photoshopped out. Oh, shut the fuck up. Yeah, right. Photoshopping is cheap and easy. We know how to do it all on Facetune. And I bet you couldn't even see through the picture. She just wanted to. She just wanted to criticize someone for their skin. And then as. As a model dedicated to her dedicate. And then as a model in which dedicated her free time to lotioning and oiling her legs to abide by the rules. A colleague of such model complained. Obviously the one who's complaining has light skin that after the oiling and moisturizing and lotioning, she left the doorknobs too slippery from this dedication routine, which was a made up dumb direct order from those above. Have you lost your insular head, girl? And she said it smugly and let out a chuckle after laughing in the face of someone else's culture. Ugh. Ugh. It felt like gross to watch. And then there was shaming. Basically everyone was called the F slur. No, not that one. It would be better if they were all being called faggots for it is endearing term as I am one myself. They were called F A T to their face, behind their back and to their side. As if you can go on a modeling show and be fat. Nobody is fat. As one model walked away easily, a size so small it is immeasurable. The judges deemed her ass fat and that she needed to lose weight. A mere 18 year old does not need to lose weight or be exposed to the trauma that would lead to years of reminiscing if they truly do have a wide load. You don't. You do not. And unless a model was skeletal, no muscle or fat to be seen, but only the 12 ribs visible where they deemed of having a beautiful body. How does one even get that? Then you're frail, I'm afraid for the calcium that escapes thy bones. They'll Break with the mere whisper of a wind A storm will shatter Disintegrate those vitamin D lacking bones. In a hurricane, forget it, your particles are. In a hurricane, forget it. Your particles are in the mirror eye In a hurricane, forget it for your particles are left in the eye Left in the dust of the hurricane. Too many lines of cocaine to count. Putting their generalized anxiety and septum at severe risk. The fashion designers quit. Quit things such as she is fabulously thin. A designer's dream, huh? Why are designers making clothes so small? As if that chubby little man could ever fit into the clothes that he was making with his fat, chubby little fingers on the sewing machine. I have an idea. Why don't you just add a little extra fabric, a little extra artistry? The fashion industry makes clothes for a world that does not exist. I don't want to be that skinny. I want to be. I want to be full. Full busted and full figured. I want to be womanly. And then I shall not fit into any clothing. What? But then. Then there's violence against women. Surprise. No surprise for a show that was marketed to make young, beautiful women have confidence and learn how to pose and how to believe in themselves. So they could be America's next top Model. Not in this America. For the title was an act of fiction. But they had proclivities. America's next top model for demonstrating violence against women. Didn't they? The creative team has no creativity but is stuck in a neuron less black hole of ideas on how to wi. How to make women feel worse about themselves. Aha. I have an idea. The producers say to themselves with their head so far up their own ass, it comes out of their mouth like that monster on the back of Demi Moore in the substance. Why don't we, they say to themselves, head coming out of their throat, facing their other head. Why don't we make bruised and battered women chic? We'll photograph them with a gunshot wound and having fell to the floor. This is fashion. This is avant garde. This is couture, honey. And we'll make the single contestant who confided in production that her mother suffered a gunshot wound and now is wheelchair bound after her injuries. This contestant should be the one with the bullet wound. This isn't sick and twisted and exploitation at all. This will make her feel good. Definitely. This won't bring back the maybe most single tragic thing she's ever experienced and having to witness her dear mother go through something like this. Oh, this is a great idea. No, it's demonic storytelling. And you should be sent straight to purgatory where you will spend an ample of time before getting fourth degree burns in hell. Not to mention the violence against women perpetrated in seven inch heels the models are forced to work in. Whoa. The delicate. The delicate ankle ligaments are in peril. One slip of a toe pop goes the ACL weasel. And yes, I talk a lot about my ACLs. Cause have you ever heard of the surgery? It's terrible. You need a commode and a shower chair and these models had to shove their barking dogs in stilettos that are two sizes too small and walk like you mean it, they say. But their knees cannot unknock for the sake of equilibrium and their great toe starts to separate from the skin and a permanent Paul Bunyan starts to form. There goes another surgical bill on top of the lobotomy that they'll need from their psychologist to forget all of this experience that they had endured. And this violence against women episode was the only episode the EP admitted went too far. What? Why? Thank you. Thank you for your ever generosity and humility and awareness and accountability. Now what about everything else? You sick bucks? You twisted infernal monsters of the underworld. The judges in the ep, all they do is punt, punt, punt, punt, punt the accountability to somebody else. We see what you're doing. You are the show. You have full control of the show. Especially Tyra because she was literally the creator of the show. She was the face of the show. And now you're suddenly acting meek, helpless. Like your decision making power has been pilfered from your very alive and warm hands. But that warm hand doesn't show an ounce of compassion. Tyra. Say you're sorry. Say it so we can all hear it. Say. Say repeat after me. I'm okay. I'm sorry. You can't. It's not in your vocabulary. Not in your side. Banged. Banged. Wig. Not in your coat. You decided to leave on during all your rehearsed interviews. Where the fuck were you in pre K when we learned how to apologize? Even. Even fakely, not even with your whole being. Just say it. Just say I'm sorry. Where were you, Tyra? Oh, you were in the back. You were in the back whispering to your friends that they're fat. Hey fatty, you say sure you're five but your mom should really be leaving off the bread of your PB&J. And maybe the PB&J altogether. Maybe you should have a sandwich filled with hot air. Hey lard ass, she says to her kindergarten classmate, tell me where the twinkies are. I know. You know because you are their most avid consumer. She looks up and down at the twinkie lover. Hey, piglet, she says to another, we're gonna play hide and seek. But you have to say seek since you can't hide. This is where she perfects her practice. This is hard. This is hard to watch. And the next thing I'm going to talk about is really hard to watch. Trigger warning of sexual abuse on an America's Next Top Model show. So, you know, I. It's like, it is literally hard to describe. There are only so many words in the dick. Not in yours, because you have no words down there. But to describe how awful this cast member Shandy was treated. But I'm gonna try. Shandy was sullied. A mere lash she was, by a rufian tyra, abominable, malignant malevant, accursed, infernal, abject and abhorrent. And that's all I got for now. But let me tell you why. I've. Let me tell you why, if you don't already know, if you didn't watch it. America's Next Top Model fully aired a sexual assault, truly a rape on tv. The worst. The worst TV I have ever seen. This is real. This is someone's life. It makes me viscerally sick to my stomach, like. And every other woman that I have talked to says the same. And I tried to watch it through the spaces in my fingers that were held over my eyes, but they aired it with such confidence, such smugness, unapologeticness for UPN tv. Something we have never heard of and will never hear of again. So let it dawn on you. No one cares about upn. This is not okay for any reason at all, but especially not for ratings on a network we've never heard of. Where's UPN now? Six feet under. No one cared or simply knew about UPN. We were all watching RE1 on VH1. So all you're doing is again exploiting someone's severe trauma all in the name of making tv. And by exploiting trauma, I mean not a past trauma, a literal current trauma. So basically they aired a scene of Shandy, this poor girl, literally getting raped. And it sounds like surreal coming out of my mouth. I wish it was not true. But the contestants were in Milan for like the last episode and decided to invite some Italian boys over, which is like not that unusual when you're on a girls trip with your friends, you know. But they production set up the opportunity for the contestants to ride on the Back of these guys motorcycles to like see the city. So production allowed for this nefarious after party. They knew exactly what was going on anytime now. Production could have stepped in with rules. Boys have to be gone by 10pm Only two drinks per hour per person. If you feel unsafe, be sure to say something. That is the bare minimum. Because the boys brought a bunch of bottles of wine. The girls had wine. They like set up for a party, whatever. We've all, we've all been there. But this is reality tv and you know how it goes. I am a reality TV contestant, X Men expert. And I had to consent on camera to doing the nasty, literally the gross with those men on tv. I had to tell the camera that I was okay with it. America's the Next Top Model didn't take any precautions to even protect themselves. The cameraman could have stepped in or refused to film. Like they should be ashamed of themselves to just keep rolling even when they were like told to. I mean, so what? Have some integrity until your next job. This is why you stopped. Nobody's going to fight that. And what about TV Village? There is always, always someone watching the monitors every time of day or night. A showrunner or an EP is back there. So they're watching the frame. Someone easily could have interjected. All of the shots are brought together on different TVs. So they're watching the frame of literal rape. And instead of stopping it, they pointed to it and said, this is great, keep rolling. Of literal filmed sexual abuse. And they made excuses. They didn't even, they didn't even say sorry for this one. They said, oh, they're in the bathroom. Shandy and the perpetrator. And we just changed our rule at this moment in time that we can't film you if you're in the bathroom with only one person. But we can film you if to. What are you talking about? Another facade created by the devil. But they lack the scruples to have a young woman's life destroyed. Not destroyed. To save a young woman's life on reality TV with something so disgusting. In the name of making tv. All in the name of making tv. Nobody likes this. Nobody wants this. Like, believe you me, we do not want to see this. This is not for ratings. You're not getting five stars. Let the models hang from the ceiling in bad wigs and two foot long eyelashes. Let the models play a game of American Ninja Warrior while walking in stilettos trying to avoid a swinging pinch. Whoa, it got me. Let the models pose with an alligator. Actually, don't do that either. Are you not afraid of any liability, of any murder, of any criminal activity on set? Obviously not. Just let the models do anything else besides get raped, Which you aired in the name of being a docu series of showing exactly what was happening. You're disgusting and you're depraved. So Shandy had too much to drink and ended up incoherent. And one of these Italian boys raped her while she was blacked out. And we know this because they literally have footage of them in the bed. She's on the bottom. She's not moving. She's not opening her eyes. Like, we could tell this is a terrible situation. Rape is rape. You cannot consent when you're drun. The amount of alcohol she drank is null and void. We know this now as thinking people back then. Men got away with it using an excuse. Also, men never get in trouble for anything, especially for rape these days. But this is. It's unfair. And this is like. It just makes so much sense to women, but it doesn't to men. A man is forcing himself on you without your consent. Consent because you are too drunk to consent. That is rape. It is actually very simple. It's like having sex with a dead person. You're sick. So not only is he a rapist, but he's also a necrophiliac. And production further made the situation worse with Shandy gaslighting her, telling her that she cheated on her boyfriend with this criminal of an Italian man. She did not cheat. She was raped. I don't even know at this point if she knows she was raped. Like, watching it in. In that time or even today, which is completely devastating because, like, as women, we take all the blame. And Tyra kept telling her she cheated and she cheated and how it felt to be a cheater and kept asking how Shandy's boyfriend took it, because they made her call Shandy's boyfriend on camera, tell him what she had done, know what he had done. She is not the perpetrator. She is the victim. But you believe what your elders are telling you. They're getting in her head. They're telling her how she feels and what she had done instead of her knowing for herself. Like, these disgusting people get in your minds and tell us that men are not responsible for anything. It is somehow our responsibility to push them off and keep them at bay. It's like. It's disgusting and it's. It's true. It's heartbreaking to watch this unfold on TV and watch this poor girl go through it. Who's from a small town, who worked at Walgreens, who's just like. Literally, it's. It's awful. It's terrible. And we've all been that drunk at 18 trying to figure out your limits at a bonfire and your best friend's basement at 6. 16 after someone named Kramer bought you a bottle of Smearn off because he looks like he's 40, but he was also 16 at the house party down the street throwing up Apple pucker out of your nose. We've all done this, but it's off camera. Our mistakes should not be filmed for all of the country in the world to see and act. You would have no show without these contestants. So act like you care a little bit. And Tyra pretends not to remember or doesn't care enough to remember. They ask, oh, you remember Shandy? She's like, shandy, Shandy, Shandy, you have blood on your hands. Tyra, you're complicit in this tragedy. A traitor, a Jonas. A wolf in sheep's mid drift showing tank top clothing. I mean, oh, my God, I bet there is a statue of limitations on rape. And I don't know because that guy's Italian. But literally, if Shandy sued, like, Tyra would be complicit. All of America's Next Top Model would be. So maybe, hopefully, she should try. I don't know if it's worth it. She probably doesn't want to bring any attention to it anymore because we don't want to talk about it, but. And after Shandy learns what happened, like, the next day, she's. She literally wails. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. And the cameras keep rolling. One more time. Hello? Time to call 91 1. The number is in the number suicide hotline. She needs help. Cut the cameras. Let her talk to her family. Like, they wouldn't let her call anyone besides tell her boyfriend that she cheated on him, which she didn't. And Tyra and the producers are feigning ignorance one more time and acting like production has rules. And these rules come before morality. What rules? You make the rules. There are no rules. This is anarchy. A wild, wild west of victimized women set to be embarrassed on tv. Shandy is not given a break with something so incredibly violating. And then. And then Judge J. I cannot with Jay. All he says is, poor girl with his smug pillow face from too much juvederm and thread and bleach on his tips that have blanched his beating heart. And the EP dares to say for good or bad, one of the best moments on tv, I am disgusted. Disgusted. That's why I'm like actually I don't even know if enough people have watched it at this point. But it's like I don't, like I wouldn't have watched it, but I did. And it makes your skin crawl. Like how? Actually I didn't know how far it went. Like, you know, I thought they were mean to the girls about like their figure and things like that, but I didn't know how dark it actually got. And then it honestly, it goes on and on and on. They now instead of just having a makeover, they're forcing surgeries on the models. Hiring a deadbeat dentist who agreed to be part of this, this abject experience and pulled teeth into hours of the night for what? For what? A tainted paycheck? What about your Hippocratic oath? Raise your right hand, you quack. I bet your left fingers were crossed behind your back because it states thou shalt do no harm. You're doing harm. You know, you cannot provide a full maker, full makeover of the mouth in one night. It doesn't make any sense. These things take months, at least years. And this girl who got all the teeth pulled still has a fucked up bite. There's not one ounce of integrity around the show that could be found with literally the biggest bottle cap of a microscope. It's evaporated the integrity into doomed air. I don't know if I was gonna go with thin or thick, but it's just quick.
- [53:01]
B
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- [53:18]
C
And then the models are just continue to be humiliated. It's a humiliation ritual. Posing with raw meat covering their private well. Is that quack of a dentist able to prescribe hundreds of doses of Monistat? Because they're sure to get a yeaster from that raw steak. That baby cow didn't eat fresh grass and received daily massage to be worn around an areola. A wasted delicacy. PETA. Get them sick em and get off my Instagram page, won't ya? What next? Put the models with the steak on the barbie and take them out of their misery. Then eat them for a mid afternoon snack. Because you're nothing but a cannibal eating up these poor girls lives. When have we ever seen Kate Moss on a Runway with raw meat around her pussy? Never. This isn't modeling. This isn't fashion. This isn't chic. This isn't iconic. It's humiliating and unappetizing and not much would make me take a vow of vegetarianism, but this might. However, it won't because nothing will keep me off of it. And especially nothing will keep me off of the pulch. Re. If an animal can survive without its head, it's mine to eat. That's just how it is. For its beak is brainless. So I shall eat the body. And. And they continue to humiliate the model. Surprise, surprise. Even more humiliating, they put the models through a prompter reading test filled with words that are incredibly hard to pronounce on purpose. Which is ironic because Tyra was one of the hosts of my season of of Dancing with the Stars and she got fired because she was so bad and she could not read that prompter to save. If her life depended on it, she would have croaked. Ah, Another one bites the dust. Ah, she bit it big time. Ah, she croaked. She was terrible at it. And she has the audacity to make these young 18 year old girls pronounce these words. Like I'm sorry, nobody knows how to pronounce. Like Hermes at 18 Hermes or Bulgari or Givenchy. Like nobody knows how to pronounce those things. But she made them. These, these contestants read aloud in front of the others so they could further be humiliated in front of an audience. Twist the knife. And the prompter is already hard to read. Like you need practice reading a prompter. Especially if like you're in your head, you're doing it in front of people, the words are moving and you cannot pronounce them. And poor Tiffany, someone who dared, someone who wouldn't stand for humiliation, for the cruelty. And she is smart. She read the first couple sentences perfectly. But she knew what she was getting into. And you know what? She didn't want to cower. And you can tell by the way she expresses herself and is able to communicate exactly what she feels like. She is smart. She just was not into humiliation. How dare she. She just wasn't desperate enough for the fraudulent title. And apparently Tyra had never been met with something like that because she turned in Tyra dead to some unearthly monster, ruthless, fire breathing, literal abuser yelling at Tiffany. You could see Tyra's eyes turn red and Devil horns start to pop up. It was like anything I've ever seen, except from an abusive mother. It made a literal visceral feeling. You were terrified for Tiffany. Like, just when you think it can't get any worse from Shandy, now Tyra is like berating Tiffany into the ground. She cannot stop sharp her her voice. She's screaming at her in front of everyone. It brings tears to your eyes. And I think from Tyra's words alone, like, it could have induced such heartbreak and sadness and rejection. I'm surprised Tiffany just didn't collapse on the floor. Like, I watching this, I thought Tyra was gonna hit her. That's how angry and out of control she was. I thought she was gonna lose control of her body. But honestly, words can pack more pain than a punch. But I'm not even kidding. It was the scariest thing I have ever seen. And like, again, instead of the rape, this Tyra freak out. Like, everyone took a step back. Like she got a talking to, but not any of the other things. But like, Tyra is psychotic demon. A nasty, nasty woman. The way she was saying speaking to this contestant, it's disgusting. So overall, I hate all of the judges. What's new? Jay is so smug and so full of himself and fake quits every other day to pretend that he has some morality. But then he signs back on with for another 10 seasons while enduring Tyra's abuse himself because he's a little bitch and has nowhere else to go. So he consents to this monstrous show because he's so desperate. And we know about Tyra. And now she's living in Australia, so marsupials beware. She's going to infiltrate the outback and try and humiliate you. And remember, there is no top Model on America's Next Top Model until next week.
- [59:28]
A
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