Bridezilla Dezjuan is “such a diva.” She’s 23, and she gets what she wants. What she wants includes Tyler, 22, who she met in high-school detention. What she wants also includes Tyler wearing a rubber work-out suit to cut weight before the wedding. What she probably doesn’t want is for someone to point out that some elements of her cranial structure is reminiscent of Stoltz’s post-makeup in Mask.

They’re from Akron, Ohio.

Because of course they are.

The cake guy wonders, aloud, why anyone would want to marry a Bridezilla. The cake guy proves to be a sage. The cake guy, with one line, probably summarized why, exactly, this is the last season of Bridezillas.

Anyway, her birthday corresponds with the Bridezillas’ crew filming. Dezjuan asserts that people who don’t acknowledge her birthday are instantly frozen out of her life. On her birthday, while driving her Saturn, she asserts that her wedding’s going to be the stupidest thing ever and she doesn’t want to go.

Dezjuan is one degree, or year, away from ratchet. Real talk. This is never more evident than when she’s yapping about how she looks “dumb” in the salon chair of her grandmama. Grandmama says if it was anybody but else coming up in that salon acting a fool, they’d “have taken her to the street.”

“You got a lotta nerve,” sayeth grandmama to Dez et al. “First, you come up in here trippin’. I do your hair. You complain about that. You been fussing at these kids on and on. Flippin’ off at your mouth. …

This are the hand gestures used to depict “flippin’ off at your mouth”

“…and you got the nerves to tell me I gotta guarantee you … Your attitude stinks, Dez. If you can’t give me an apology, I’m not going to give you nothing. I’m not even going to do your hair, matter of fact. You got the audacity to tell me I got to your flowers and make sure you have a bouquet. I don’t have to do anything.”

But this POS just keeps disrespecting her grandmom regardless. One day, the reality of Dezjuan’s place in the world is gonna smack her square in the head. I hope WeTV’s cameras are there to show it.

Anyway, she then smashes her birthday cake because it wasn’t up to snuff. And bitches that someone got her a bracelet for her birthday because what’s she going to do with another bracelet and there’s just no damn thing she can do with it, so her birthday’s ruined. But she doesn’t care who gets hurt. Because whatever. She’s Dez.

Thing is, she’s too young to see just how mediocre-at-best her life will turn out.

They close the segment with Dezjuan and whatever his name is going out for a nice quiet dinner three nights before the wedding. But nice quiet dinner it was not. It was an ambush with Dezjuan’s mom, who asserts that she is “allowing” them to get married, and that he needs to know that he is a worker bee for his bride-to-be, a worker bee who will transfer all of his money into the wife’s account.

Dezjuan’s mother is a horrible person, who will be the reason that Dezjuan will appear on an upcoming season of Marriage Boot Camp: Bridezillas. Actually, strike that. He won’t even try to fix this shit he stupidly allowed himself to get trapped in.

So anyway, back to Bridezilla Ariel and Brook in South Dakota, and how he doesn’t fire back when she tells the WeTV-watching would how firm her grip is on his leash. Fun fact: He was working at Subway at their time of engagement, and spend $15 on the initial ring. Bet Dezjuan’s cake guy would get a big kick out of that.

Ariel’s your standard, run-of-the-mill upper-teen brat. The type who makes static about the cost of her manicure — since she didn’t bring enough money, as a first-time customer, which warrants a big discount in Arielnomics 101 — and how the bridal party should have made appointments.

There is a balance of $18.81 when she tries to pay what she feels the price should have been. The parlor manager pulls a Pretty-Woman-dress-shop-owner tude with her as well. But in Pretty Woman, Vivian Ward did not deserve said treatment. The gay guy at the salon concurred with this, I suspect, so he asked all them all to leave.

Before bitching about the look of her American Legion basement gala, she asserts that the most stressful thing about the wedding planning will likely be the stress involved. So. Damn. Meta.

When they show her wedding-day morning, my first reaction was: Sweet F’in Christ, I hope she has a good –nay, great — makeup artist. Because there’s some damn work to get done. But then I thought oh Jesus, that reads so catty and unnecessary. Pondered deleting this sentence. But then they showed her flipping out outside on the phone at her mom, who was home getting ready, at said, no, this is an important fact to keep in this week’s Bridezillas post. Let this be a lesson to every one who thinks this is an acceptable way to act, and treat others.

Anyway, they end up getting married in something that resembles an Overlook ski lodge, in front of a dozen and a half people. It closes with her worried about how her boobs look in the dress during the post-wedding interview. I’ll let all y’all decide:

Well, here we go again with another episode of “people who got married on Bridezillas are now seeking marriage counseling on reality television.” Sense I’ve gotten since the last post was that several of the couples in the mix are there for legitimate reasons and some are there for famewhorishness.

Way I see it: Three there for good, one there for famewhorishness and undecided on the other. Will name names when I figure that fifth one out.

I’m just going to go with a random-observations approach to this episode.

Because, after watching Rob Maaddi shaving his chest, some things are just so offputting that words fail. At least we know that 96 percent of his Twitter followers won’t care.

Starts off with a whole “This is what divorce proceedings will go down if it comes to that” …

• They’re all over Kirsten for getting hammered the first night to show what a divorce attorney would do with the information.

• Remy’s saying she’d fight dirty. She does so in her regularly overblown “foreign tinged” accent. Because that’s what she likely practices when her man’s out making the money, as he puts it. Then, they’re all like: Whoa, that was too much; we don’t have problems problems.

• Porsha’s man is all hinkey about turning his phone records over. This, I suspect, is going to be an undertone to their whole time at the Boot Campus.

• Marlon and Danni taking well to the discussion in a “we are not going to let it come to this.”

• The blonde Debbie Gibson throw-in gets all up in arms about how Chris would get primary custody of their kid on account of how he is the primary parent in day-to-day. And she throws some snarky shit about getting your father-of-the-year medal at the door.

• Oh, the blonde’s name is Melissa.

• Rob and Remy are acting all high and mighty when the couples are sitting around talking about themselves. Makes me wish they knew Rob had the type of ego that leads to 129K fake Twitter followers. That would have given them a bit of response strength when they’re talking about how great they are.

It’s faux-death time! Fake viewing, one of them has to get into a coffin and listen to the heart-felt letters that they wrote a little while ago.

• Remy thanks Rob for accepting her “shopping addiction.” She’s responding as if she doesn’t realize that this isn’t a farce viewing.

• Kirsten to Seth: “I’m glad you’re not really dead.” Aw.

• Porsha and Byron’s one of the three that seems to be there for legitimate purposes.

• Danni don’t want to get up in that casket. But she does. Sucked for Marlon, who says he recently lost his dad and grandmoms. They have a real moment. With tears and all.

• Rob and Remy done got on Porsha and Byron’s nerves big time.

• Debbie Gibson-ishy lady ain’t going to get into the casket. Storms out. Why do I keep forgetting her name? Wait a sec while I scroll up. Melissa. That’s it. Well, this reaction is way Kirsteny. As they try to convince her to get in, Rob is saying that you just have to convince yourself it’s a tanning booth. Yeah. Seriously. Anyway, DG is talking about how the people who got in the coffin got mental issues. And she flat out refuses. Because Melissa won’t do anything that Melissa doesn’t want to do. “Congratulations to all of you” who were able to do it “but hell no,” she said. Weak sauce.

• As someone who was literally on his deathbed, watching these folks bitch out of just laying in a coffin for a few minutes paints the sort of negative picture that won’t soon fade. Points deducted, yo.

• The boot camp sergeants or whatever you’d like to call them say Melissa and Chris almost got booted for the whole coffin thing. In their defense, they ain’t the famewhores of the bunch.

• By the quarter pole in the #BZBootcamp lap, the in-my-estimation standings are three couples here for counseling, two here for fame.

• Well not fame fame, but a hunger for attention that overwhelms every one of their brain cells. Sad, really. I hope the bad apples don’t ruin it for those there with clear eyes and full hearts.

Oh for fuck’s sake. They open the show’s preview with one of the guards putting a gun on the table after saying, “Think your life’s worth saving?”

Wait. It’s a paintball gun. There will be a life lesson because of that gun. That paintball gun.

FWIW, this show’s making me just want to wake up when the first episode of Big Brother 15 starts. June 26.

Like, I just zoned out of the show to look up what date BB15 premiered.

Ok, so they’re all heading out into gunplayland. Apocalypse. “AN APOCALYPSE FANTASY SCENARIO”!

Just zoned out to search for “AN APOCALYPSE FANTASY SCENARIO” on YouTube and this was there.

Tune back in and Chris calling out Rob Sportsguy’s ignorance, and how that would play out in an apocalypse setting. And then Rob Sportsguy threatens to kick “fucking asses” if they shoot paintballs at Rob. But he’s all like, fucking whatever, who cares, pfft, MAADDIBRO RULES.

The game’s shoot if you got an issue then say what that issue is. Buncha people say a bunch of stuff and a buncha people get shot at and talked to.

Nobody shot Danni, yo; Porsha’s boy Byron got lit up. Maaddibro jumps up and says Princess ain’t taking a paintball. Now Remy or Remi is playacting tears before she gets lit up. Because she’s mean. And he’s mean, too. And you gotta step up, girl. I wish these two weren’t from around Philly. Because that means people who act like this are from around Philly.

Kirsten has proven herself to be even more looned up than I reckoned she would by week three. She’s crazy. And no one’s as crazy as you around here, says Melissa. And you’re fake, says Princess Remi or Remy of Wish It Wasn’t Around Philly.

One to grow on moment: You were talking to yourself when you were talking to that person. Or something. I don’t know. I’m still waiting for this picture to show up:

Chris and Debbie Gibson are squabblin about potatoes or eggs or something. And go get em yourself, Debbie, well, Melissa, who says she’s going home now. Ain’t. No. Joke. Stay if you want, bro. Fuck you, yo. DGAF. Anyway, editing like they’re brawling. But they’re not showing anything to make it look like they ain’t. She’s saying he’s playing tough guy. Acting like it.

Anyway, when they’re with the guards or counselors or captors or whatever they’re called, it’s kinda hard to tell who’s the couples there for legit purposes and the famewhore set. That whole thing’s shifted to two/three now. Oh, so I’m just gonna fast forward through the group name-your-family-shame session. BLAME. PARENTS. ALWAYS. Though the Debbie Gibson parespill was hardcore. Good stuff. Bad mom. You were. I ain’t. Word.

Oh, the guards are acting like human Ouija Board to be the person they want to lay into.

Like, channeling people.

Like, fucking gypsies on the A.C. Boardwalk between Bally’s and the Taj Mahal [1].

Oh, Porsha — spinoff seeker — gets surprised by her dad showing up. I think it’s her dad. I’m not going to rewind to catch it up.

I really wish one of them — probably Kirsten most than any others — would have rolled into Danny Torrance’s whole I have a friend Tony who lives in my mouth schpiel.

Porsha’s crying, though. Loud. Dad — presumptive — apologizes. Maybe they can leave the show now.

[1] When I worked down in A.C., on the crime beat for the Press of Atlantic City, there was this guy who called. Said he wanted to defect and rat other gypsies out. Nothing ever came of it. Gypsies never done wrong by me. But it’s one of those remember-forever bits of career trivia.

We start this week’s with Bridezilla Amanda, to whom we’re introduced while she yaps about how everything’s bigger and better in Texas. Because that’s, apparently, what anybody from Texas is force to do under some sort of threat of retribution. SAY IT. SAY IT. OR I’LL SHOOT YOUR ARMADILLO IN THE F’ING FACE.

She and Derek are renewing their vows. Hence, what’s also bigger and better in Texas is a need for never-ending look-at-me attention.

They go to the gun range. Because, again, that’s also what you do anytime you get on a cable TV-show and you’re from Texas.

Why are these people are on Bridezillas? Were they that desperate for contestants to fill out the final season?

I mean, I get it, it’s cool to have Amanda’s buxom friend on camera with guns. But then they go and ruin even that by having her puke in the gun-range potty.

And it’s cool to have your Marriagevowrenewalzilla putting bullets in guns backwards and shooting at cartoon character’s breastuses.

But no. Not enough. Seriously, why is this lady on Bridezillas? These vow-renewal episodes are an insult to the very essence of what this show should be.

FINE, it’s kinda cool how they have a joint bachelor/bachelorette party and the married lady starts slugging margaritas and yapping at her man and others.

Like, about his vasectomy.

And getting all I’m-not-good-enough-worry-y when just-about-smoking-hot Sammi or Sammy shows up and makes this segment worthwhile with mere presence alone. Because I, for one, don’t like hearing about dick-snip intricacies.

Because it exposes Amanda as the type of moron who will follow a smoking-hot chick into the bathroom and talk down to her, tell her to back off because this is MAI night and YOU ain’t gonna take the attention.

Guess what, sunshine: Attention’s already off you. Bring. Back. Sammy. Or. Sammi. Or Whatever. Or the busty gun-range friend.

Now Amanda’s talking about popping laxatives in order to fit into her dress. She’s saying this as she slugs wine or champagne.

This has devolved into nothing but a case study in why we shouldn’t cave in to people’s attention-hunger demands. Amanda, dear, it looks like you have a good life — albeit in Texas, which is far from the utopia you’ve been forced to maintain publicly — just be happy for what you have instead of feeding your inner starvation for validation. It’s unbecoming.

Fight back, lady. There’s still hope for you. You are not a bad person, even if you’re faking feeling crappy to get out of living up to the responsibilities inherent in this little attention-quest windmill at which you’re tilting mascara applicators.

But hey, ladies who read this: Drop me an email or comment to help explain how much makeup was applied before she was all laid up in bed. It looks like she had some ample time with the facepaint applicators even though she’s not “feeling well.”

Update: Despite a line on the show about tomfoolery, Bridezilla Amanda has responded via Twitter to this issue. To wit:

To be sure, this isn’t the first complaint I’ve heard about WeTV’s fast-and-loose editing in recent weeks. But whatever. Go on the show. Deal with the ramifications, yo.

Anyway, Bridezilla Dezjuan‘s back. Horrible, horrible Dezjuan who now claims she has an alter ego named Lola, who is an alcoholic who headbutts and then pretends to slow dance in Akron, Ohio.

She’s looking for a bachelorette-party dress with sequins. Picks out an “unclassy” “not cute” one. Turns out, Dezjuan, Lola or whatever has little fashion sense in the estimation of the friend who accompanied her on this mission. “You’re about to be someone’s wife. Not someone’s one-night stand,” says friend Amaya-or-something-like-that.

So anyway, no one’s there when she shows up at her bachelorette party. And she’s all crying in the baffroom. When people start showing up late. Which shifts tears to a ragey peptalk and a Kirsten-y type spinny dance.

It’s her wedding day and she’s all ragey. And late to the church. Which Tyler will just get over because I’m Dez and whatthefuckever I’m'a do wut I want. This poor, detached-from-reality thing; this is what happens when you don’t keep on your A game all the way through, mothers of the world; your daughter will slug booze from tha bottle within hours of the wedding, before Grandmama Jozette get there and talk about how Dezjuan is trippin.

To the point of there being dust mites or maggots on her wedding dress.

MAGGOTS ON THE WEDDING DRESS.

MAGGOTS!

ON!

THE!

WEDDING!

DRESS!

Maggots on the wedding dress. (There weren’t.)

Maggot in the wedding dress. (There was.)

The carrying on continues through the wedding. Blah, blah, Dezjuan’s so damn played out.

BUT THEN DEZ GETS HER TOES SUCKED AT THE WEDDING AND THEN KISSED WITH THE TOE-SUCKING MOUTH AND HOLY SHIT FILTHY FILTHY FILLLLLLL THYYYYYYY.

Concluding point: WeTV should give Grandmama Jozette her own spinoff. She solid people.

Bridezilla Dekeydra

Bridezilla Amanda

“Shut up. You’re lucky someone put a ring on your finger. Seriously.”

She describes herself as “loud, rude, mean, demanding, controlling [and] out-of-control” so “people better watch out.”

These people include Derrick, who’s all chill. Opposites attract, yes. But opposites also exploit. This is the situation here.

First scene: She’s looking at cakes. By looking at, I mean wholesale tasting and admitting that when stepmom’s around, all she’s thinking about is “money, money, money.” But money, money, money doesn’t convince B.K. to get banana nuts like Stepmom Moneybags* would like as they’re fave. (*She don’t look all that rich.)

“I will kill her,” says Stepmom Moneybags. “I will kill her.”

If I was on that jury, I’d hang the jury if my peers wanted to cut her loose.

Anyway, when she goes to the salon, she is told to “wait a hot second” as the stylist is currently styling another head. She actually chases the other client out of the chair.

This doesn’t go over well, but it afforded us the opportunity to meet stylist “Kash.” Here’s Kash:

Kash is a substantially better human being than Dekeydra. That’s why they showed her, I’ll bet.

She proceeds to harangue 12 bridesmaids to git on over here for their dress trying on thing; she’s willing to cull that pack, she says. When they’re lined up, she’s judging how they look in said dress. Which is to say she lashes out because there ain’t a one of ‘em she’d look better than in said dress.

“Is she going to make sure our vaginas are shaved, too?” asks bridesmaid Angelina after her armpits are inspected by the horrible person who she agreed to standby on her wedding day.

I wish horrible Bridezilla Dekeydra was a one-episode jawn. But alas, it wasn’t.

Anyway, Vowrenewazilla Amanda of Frisco, Texas is back on. She offers a 13-month timeline that indicates a wedding of a shotgun variety between a “barfly” — who exploited bar patrons for free drinks, which she says isn’t white trash but frugal — and the gentleman who planted seed in womb.

I guess that’s an accurate assessment. Unless the perpetrator is white trash.

So, she’s apparently trying to pit bestie-bridesmaids and maids-of-honor against one another.

“Yeah, they’re fighting over me,” she says. “Keep on fighting.”

If there’s a guidebook that breaks down “cunty vow-renewal preparation behavior,” this would have to be bottom half of the Top 10 offenses. The CVRPBist continues at the nail salon, too, because what says quality human being more than one who wants friends to fight for her good graces.

“I’m sick of everyone at this point,” says the one of whom everyone is likely sick at this point, before ordering champagne while her feet get did.

Then, she bitches about the dressing on a hoagie that her man hand-delivers to her at the salon. Then, she calls herself “platinum.” Then, she can’t pronounce “selflessly” properly. Which is funny.

During renewal preparation, she mentions who Lance Armstrong riding with “one ball” as motivation to proceed. In pink hotpants. Now, she’s worried about how the candies don’t match the tuxes, sashes and other formal wear involved in the affair. And pitting the lead renewamaids against one another, counting years of friendship and whatnot.

Again, why does Bridezillas allow mere vow-renewers — even moderately attractive ones — to appear on their esteemed program?

Are they trolling us?

Have they launched a War on Marriage?

If so, what’s their end game?

When we get reacquainted with our 10 American heroes, fake-Twitter-follower enthusiast Rob is shaving his armpits, and Kirsten is yapping at Seth to start showing her some more public affection because, c’mon, everyone else is.

The question at hand when they gather outside: Fellas, pick someone else’s bride to call your own. Only thing missing was a fishbowl from which to select keys.

Rob picks Danni. Remy looks all mad. And Rob’s all Danni’s more understanding than you.

Chris picks Danni, too. And Debbie Gibson gives a harsh look, especially when Chris is all, like, she has everything you don’t and if sidepieces were involved in this here thang, well, Danni it is.

Byron gets on over to Remy. Reckon makeup-man Rob’ll probably cut him. “I have no idea why I even picked her,” says Byron when he’s up in the booth with Porsha.

Marlon picks Melissa. Because she cooks and cleans and isn’t emotional. “She’s cool,” he says. “We get along.”

Seth picks Danni, too. Because she’s a good listener. Which Kirsten don’t much like.

Remy picks Marlon, but don’t hug him. Says she’d have taken Chris but he didn’t pick her so she was all like, pfft, whatever. (She likes how he don’t get all worked up.)

Debbie Gibson picks Marlon, too. Because he’s cool as fuck.

Porsha, she picks Marlon for his honesty.

Kirsten is having difficulty picking someone because no one picked her. She went with Chris. Because he’s emotionally available.

And, Danni chooses Rob over Chris. He says “hells yes.” Because he listens and protects.

Aw. So fun.

Then, they get couple assignments from the guards or counselors or whatever these marriage-fixin’ folks is called.

Danni and Byron. Seth and Remy. Porsha and Chris. Kirsten and Rob. Melissa and Marlon.

The gimmick is a BBQ party. They all have different tasks to make the party a good one. Finding ingredients; putting grill together; making a signature cocktail; cook the meal.

Communications issues worked through.

Rob and Kirsten go shopping. He suggests protein shakes for everyone. Not so much, she retorts. They squabble at the meat counter. She drops a fifty on the ground when seeking chardonnay.

“They should have never given you the money in the first place. This is why the guy handles all the money. You never give a woman money. Never. Never give a woman money,” says Renaissance Man Rob Maaddi when he finds it on the ground.

Melissa and Marlon hit it off. So Danni’s all talking about a desire to get dominated — tied up and whatnot — because she read that “stupid ass” 50 Shades of Gray.

Seth and Remy are at the party-supply store. She loads the cart with $300 worth of product despite only having $50 in the envelope. Because Remy is as Remy does and good luck with that on a sportswriter’s salary, makeupman.

Chris and Porsha are aligned insofar as they got trust issues with their spouses. Before long, Porsha’s asking for intermediaries to ask Byron why he won’t give up his cell phone; this is evidence of infidelity, she thinks; physical and/or emotional.

Table talk ensues.

Chris jumps aboard to a limited extent, but even that pisses Debbie Gibson off to the point that she’s ready to start throwing because, well, what we know best is what stings us hardest, I guess.

Porsha and Byron end up getting one-on-one time with the guards; they encourage him to turn over all his passwords and phones and whatnot to her; Byron tears ensue; then, Byron’s fingers gets to deletin’ thangs instead of handing it over; “there’s something dark here,” says lady guard; “I’m tired of being judged, I love my wife,” he says off-camera but not out of camera-mic range.

Prepping. Cooking. Feet dangling in jacuzzis-ing. Sipping raspberry martinis with pineapple juice because Marriage Boot Camp starts tough but ends sweet. Review the day’s life lessons and look within for self-improvement. Blah, blah, blah.

I mean, hope it’s helping them all, but thank God there’s only four episodes left until the yet-filmed reunion show which I hear is going to be fanfuckingtastic.

When they first show Bridezilla Joraine, she’s wearing a wedding gown and screaming into a phone. Then she says the theme of her wedding is “Better Than Yours.” She’s marrying — well, incarcerating and abusing — some guy named Mark. She’s talking about how they’ll never be torn apart unless she has to kill him or vice versa.

“She’s like a god to me,” says Mark who has no idea about how oppressive his life is about to become.

She tells him, while standing on him in a park in San Mateo or San Francisco, that she will always be on top and he will always do what she tells him to do. This includes shaming him for eating a lollypop and a Hershey’s Kiss, which she proceeds to physically rip out of his mouth and out it back in the wrapper.

“I think she’s out of line,” says maid of honor Mae. “She’s just so rude.”

Well duh. Tell you what I think, Mae: She’s going to claim Bridezillas edited to show to make her look worse than she is, but we’ll always know she’s rotten to the core.

She threatens to kill him if he’s drinking, having fun or has girls around at his bachelor party.

“If he’s dancing with a girl, I am going to punch him in the face, grab her by the hair, drag her across through dance floor,” says Joraine who is now being referred to as Miss Crazy Pants.

Then she ambushes his bachelor party — where he’s dancing with three ladies. Dancing and/or thinking about other girls is cheating, in her mind. And when you have shots at your bachelor party, you end up dancing with whores, in her mind. But Joraine’s all fucking talk in her veil and sash and cloaked in assholery.

No confronting ladies who would put a smackdown on her right there in front of the cameras. Instead, she orders him down to his feet outside tha club, to kiss them and beg for forgiveness. Which he does. Because Mark ain’t nothing but a bitch to her. Look:

When she requests a cock cake for the wedding because he “cheated” at the bachelor party, she says she prefers the “huge” variety. And “chocolate” which is “Mark’s favorite.” With “suck this” written on the cake because she thinks “this is appropriate.”

“It will be just as humiliating for him as it was for me that night,” says Joraine, who proceeds to try and force a piece of what’s going to be black-cock pastry into his mouth. When she tries to feed him the black cock, she pours water on his head and chases with a rolling pin.

She shames her bridesmaids’ appearance. Then, she forces them to do some stupid fucking dance for the wedding.

And tries to shame her man during the wine-tasting session but it don’t seem like she knows much about wine either so she smacks him in the face.

There’s no walking this kind of crazy back. This guy is trapped and destined for either addiction or prison, which will seem like the only rational options by 2015.

Oh, so Bridezilla Dekeydra‘s back. Horrid inside and out. And she’s demanding gifts when they go out to eat dinner, a meal for which she demands Derek order for her. In Italian.

When the food arrives, she orders boxes to take it home since Derek wasn’t romantic enough. And she was likely uncomfortable when the meal wasn’t delivered a la feedbag per normal procedure.

Fun fact: She can’t properly pronounce the word “motto” and Bridezillas makes sure you know this about what the maid of honor calls the “Queen Bride Bitch” as she sends her out from the salon to fetch Mexican food. While food is being fetched, Dekeydra causes a fuss with the titsy nail-salon nail lady about rhinestones.

Then she’s yapping at “head bridesmaid” Angelina for being “34 minutes late” for the makeup tryout. There is a discussion about how since Dekeydra threw her dress off the deck means that Dekeydra has to pay for the dress repairs. But not in Dekeydra’s mind.

“You’re not a good makeup artist,” says Dekeydra of her “tranny” lashes.

“You’re not a good anything,” says Angelina who “cannot handle her anymore.”

Angelina then drops her eyeshadow because Dekeydra’s being a bitch. Dekeydra’s all like, whatever, leave the bridal party then.

“She doesn’t give a fuck about me, I don’t give a fuck about her,” says Angelina, who storms off.

Oh, this is what Dekeydra looks like when Angelina mentions how she “looks healthy.” As in well-fed and roomy. At their bridesmaids gathering night before the wedding:

Then Dekeydra tries to beat dat ass but they all break that scream/cryfest fight up. With the biggun storming off saying how she ain’t gon apologize for nuthin.

Wedding morning: She’s wearing a periwinkle hoodie and demanding Angelina apologize still. But since she needs Angelina to get her looking less pockmarked, she caves in, talks nice and gets married with a reception at which she wanted bartenders to charge guests for drinks. Fin.

Chris at the moment he tells Debbie Gibson, “What are you talking about? I’m the best dancer in there.”

The guards or counselors or whatever are saying the theme of the day is “respect.”

Cut to downstairs: Kirsten’s all, like, Danni and Marlon are fake in front of the cameras.

Cut to upstairs: Debbie Gibson is eyeing up a purple ballgown to wear downstairs on fancypants-dressing day. Because “I’m going to look the best.” Which she does. Until Anya, the dance instructor comes in for tango teachin’. Because fishnets and heels.

The dance lessons, meant to instill respect via cooperation, look a little like this:

So they’re all at one another’s throats since they can’t really master the tango in one hour.

As FTFE Rob puts it, “If I can’t do it perfectly, I don’t want to do it.”

And Kirsten’s all dance-hall instructor with Seth since she’s a dancer and Seth would rather get attacked by fire ants than do so; her loud orders irk the others, of course.

And Porsha’s talking about foots in asses.

And Danni and Marlon are looking dancegood to the point that Kirsten’s all paranoid.

Then, the contest starts.

Danni and Marlon nail it down to toothy rose exchange.

Kirsten and Seth: respectable performance, too.

Chris and Melissa, er, Debbie G.: Less respectable. As DG totally forgot all the steps; this, after telling the cameras that he can’t dance one bit. Well lookie here: He carried the squad and DG congratulated him for the “good moves” afterwards.

Rob and Remy: Preening peacocks turned loose on a Delaware Avenue dance floor. Like it was any-coin any-drink night at Maui.

Porsha and Byron: Not bad. Not bad. Until he collapses with chest tightness and gets hauled off by an ambulance after Melissa does some good work about getting him treated. Nurse or doctor background?

Rob takes this as a life/death lesson. Because yes, some guy who’s conscious when taken off to the nearby hospital for fluids and rest is a total fucking holocaust situation. I mean, you had a point when piggybacking the whole “how can Danni be worried about Marlon when Byron’s the one who went down,” but c’mon son.

Medical-attention notwithstanding, let’s look at the Dance Fever scoring results from this here seat:

5th Place: Rob and Remy

4th Place: Porsha and Byron

Tied for 2nd Place: Kirsten and Seth; Chris and Debbie G.

1st Place: Danni and Marlon

Anyway, with the fourth place finishers now off to the hospital, the other teams are writing relational needs on nametags and slapping it on their spouses’ chests.

One of the stickers on Seth says “kisses.”

These include “just look at pricetags when you pick something up.” And “I’m afraid to touch you sometimes because it seems like too much work.” “I can’t listen sometimes because you talk so fast.”

GUH ROWL.

Seeing some breakthroughs with Chris and Melissa, which is cool, since they seem like good here-for-the-right-reasons folks.

Porsha’s back. They gonna keep Byron overnight. Kirsten jumps up to hug Porsha, who tells FTFE Rob that Byron’ll be back tomorrow. Circle of life, Robbie, who launches into Danni at the kitchen table about selfishness, with Kirsten sidenoting that Danni’s old Bridezillas self is showing again.

Fight at the table time!!!

“Fuck all y’all,” says Danni. “I’m the fakest one? You can kiss my muthafuckin’ ass.”

Woe. They cut away too quickly. This shit was just getting good. So you know what? You don’t show me the violence — whether it be verbal or physical — that I want, Bridezillas Marriage Boot Camp, I won’t share the end of this episode with the non-viewing public. Maybe I won’t next week either, motherfuckers.

Fuck all y’all.

Previous #BZBootCamp posts can be found via this link.

At the onset of this latest episode of Bridezillas, newbie Bridezilla Amanda of Ocala, Fla. compares herself to a lizard (in the looks department) and threatens to torch everyone and everything. Her captive husband-to-be Steven (I think, but too lazy to rewind) says they’ve almost gotten arrested a few times and that he fears for his future but, you know, in a loving way.

Dig this Amanda despite the extensive neck and upper-chest-tat work. I wonder how long it is until she has a tear-drop tattoo and whether it’ll go at the corner of her right or left eye?

She also lied about being pregnant when she was looking at four-figure jewelry. He sees through this ruse based on the fact that she was drinking the other night and what mama-to-be drinks when she’s knocked up?

Fun fact learned at the dress fitting: Amanda’s sister’s name/maid-of-honor is Jomanda.

There is a conversation about how she can’t wear a veil over her face since she’s not of virginal status. She seems to be a little touched, as in phraseology doesn’t match up with logical sentences or clauses.

For example, talking about hamsters in relation to Jomanda’s intellectual abilities. Something about horses, too. And how she’s “gonna rip her bald.” And now she’s crying hysterically about being overwhelmed by wedding planning by herself and smashes her phone.

Oh, Jomanda has her name tattooed on her left teet. So you know who’s teet it is.

Anyway, now Steven’s doing Amanda’s extensions or something and they look bad like they’re doll hair and he’s using a flat iron. “I smell like a burning baby dolls,” she says.

I have no friggin idea what any of this means. Maybe you will.

Should you not burn dolls? If not, why not? That seems like a really arbitrary rule. In fact, if anybody knows anybody involved with Honey Boo Boo Show production, pass this idea along: An episode on which HBB just torches any doll she can get her meaty paws on. Laughing. Speaking in tongues. That kind of thing.

Oh, horrible Bridezilla Joraine‘s back on. She runs counter to all that’s likeable regarding Bridezilla Amanda.

She says she fell in love with her man four years after he fell in love with her, how she could “call it all off” on a moment’s notice and taunts him at the bowling alley.

She also says she’ll cancel the “suck this” black-cock wedding cake if he gets a mani/pedi. When he falls asleep in the chair, she gets his toes done all girly.

She also assaults him with clippers since he looks like a peeping-tom stalker/Chia Pet/her dad and he’s gonna get his hair cut “one way or the other.”

She keeps talking about how her wedding’s going to be better than everyone else’s wedding but what she fails to realize is that every other wedding that has — or will — ever taken/take place is already superior, what with Joraine’s non-involvement.

There is very, very, veryveryvery little to like about this one here, who calls herself “Satan’s spawn.”

Case in point: She’s eating in the car, saying she’s so stressed out that she can’t eat and when whatever his name is points out that “It ain’t stopping you,” she turns all frigid like, oh, you want to make fat jokes now? Self-introspection skill-set, non-existent.

When the seating chart doesn’t get to the venue in time, she says she feels “like a zookeeper at the zoo.” Then she freaks out screeching in the parking lot as whatever his name is carries a rolled-up rug.

And then he tries to wear sneakers to the wedding so she, again, freaks out. Throwing things. Screaming things. Reinforcing her horrible-person status one millisecond at a time. Then she gets married during a ceremony in which her husband can’t read his hand-written vows, before a reception at which whatever his name is takes a big-ass fall on the dance flo, so drunk that he feels like he’s on Cloud Nine, saying there’s going to be “some payoff” at night’s end, in which “payoff” means tapping his new bride’s ass. Perfect ending.

This here is the first episode of Marriage Boot Camp: Bridezillas since they filmed the reunion episode up in NYC last weekend. Judging by the Tweets of involved parties, it seems as if the crew has broken into two factions: 1) Danni, Debbie Gibson, Marlon and Chris 2) Kirsten, Seth, Rob, Remy, Porsha and, to a lesser extent, Byron.

So, if you’re gonna watch #BZBootCamp, keep that in mind as the intra-relations develop these last couple of episodes.

Anyway, the previews of this here episode seem to indicate Byron’s done gonna get caught as a cheater, and the rest of the folks are gonna go to a sex shop and end up with fuckdolls over which’s heads the faces of the boot campers will be placed.

Sex doll as castration advice.

They pick up with all that static from last week, and then show Byron rolling back into the house after a night in the hospital. Instantaneously, one of the guards says he thinks Byron’s dark secrets are part of what stuck his arm with an IV line. He tells the guard that he talked to his mama and came clean to her. Aw.

Anyway, these freaks start feeling their fuckdolls up and then those of their partners. When asked to put their hand on their partners’ favorite body parts, a whole lot of titties and manmeat were grabbed, along with hearts (bullshit, you fake-ass gloryhounds) and thighs (really, Chris and DG?). Then we got Kirsten and Seth talking about how they don’t talk about their sex lives and it’s at this point when I start thinking they should rename this show the Castration Hour.

Oh, anyway, Byron’s copping to cheating all over the place with a variety of ladyfriends and Porsha ain’t jump out the chair or anything. Which lends to the theory that either 1) she knew all along and was prepared for said reveal or 2) this stuff is scripted in a fashion that’d land certain Boot Camper(s) a spinoff show.

They fixate on Byron’s phone again. On and on and on to the point where the fast-forward button is pressed because, c’mon WeTV, we’ve had six weeks of this phone shit now. He is a cheater. Admittedly. Let’s move on to the other couples. Or something. Even if we’re going to buy into the whole Porsha/Byron not being there under sideshow pretenses, and feel Porsha’s pain when she wonders whether she was the reason why he strayed, enough’s enough.

In true be-careful-what-you-wish-for irony, we’re onto what turns the ladies of the house on. Luckily, once we get past the whole “Big Board of Turnons” …

Children? Listen to my needs? Cuhhhhhhhh reepy.

… Chris and Debbie Gibson start talking about how they used to roleplay, sometimes in costume, and Chris is all, like, sometimes I was Juan, other times Enrique — to the point that they have 36 costumes. So FTFE Rob is all like, how about roleplay like you can please your wife, and he breaks out an acronym about after-orgasm affection.

Because a man who wears makeup has any room to advise men on their sackabilities.

So anyway, they got a table of products — sexual and edible — to take back to their rooms for a night of bangin’. But Debbie Gibson’s all like, yo, they ain’t got shit here. Let’s go off to the sexshop to get some REAL toys, nahmean? And off they went.

Kirsten’s talking about vibrators now. And FTFE Rob and Remy are calling Chris and DG out as kinky freaks. OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THEY CUT BACK TO BYRON AGAIN. He’s in the house while all the others are out on their field trip. Fuck, man. Fast-forward again.

This photo that Chris’ friends will love forever and ever.

Ok, back to the sexy shop. Fun fact: David Carradine was a regular at this particular sex shop, this Susie’s Delights.

We got dildos and ass-play aides and glow-in-the-dark vibrating cock rings and, like, pink hats or something. Danni says something to the effect that Kirsten ain’t the prude she portrays herself as. And FTFE Rob seems to think he’s the only man in human history to have been nice to a woman after they’ve had sexual relations. Yeah, bro. You’re a superstar.

You know, after the whole Bridezillas/Divorce Court/#BZBootCamp trifecta, I figured Kirsten and Seth would find themselves right atop my Can’t Stand Watching List.

Yet, here we are, with two or three weeks left and they’re so vastly superior, from a viewing perspective, than FTFEs Rob and Remy and Porsha and Byron, I’m going to ponder whether my reality-TV judgement instincts are still up to snuff.

If you want to know how Miyesha set the Bridezillas speed record for credibility loss, one needn’t look further than the first quote out her mouth after they show her booting the TV crew out of the limo on the way to the wedding:

“I’m probably by far the best looking and classiest Bridezilla ever. I’m very ‘Beyonce-fabulous.’”

Read those words slowly. Look back up at the top picture. Revel in the disconnect with reality.

Anyway, about 15 people bailed from the wedding for Brian’s aunt’s funeral and another five backed out for other reasons. She’s carrying on about how people value mourning a lost life than mourning the one Brian will lose when he marries this cretin.

Miyesha then hands out “Bridesmaid’s Oaths” to ensure that “it’s Miyesha on their minds from when they wake up to when they go to bed.”

As they’re reading these oath lines aloud, this chick stops them midsentence when she doesn’t see one of the five victim’s lips moving. Then, they get to putting butter mints and water bottles into the guests’ gift bags.

It’s at this point where they question must be considered: Is she uglier inside or out? Mull that over our intermission break:

Ok, back for the bridesmaids-dress trying-on affair. She’s concerned with nipples by necks and sisters with tats all over they backs and how her maid of honor should stuff her bra to move up “like two cup sizes.” There is a leak issue involved as well and we needn’t delve too deeply into that one.

Her wedding dress don’t fit no more because she keeps dropping points in a pre-wedding diet effort.

“Are you feeling Beyonce? Because you ain’t lookin’ it,” says bridesmaid Alvina (sp?). “Miyesha is gonna pop a blood vessel — you know, the lines on her head, if she keeps on with it.”

Alvina makes a great point. We’ll learn more next week.

Bridezilla Amanda‘s back on. Though portrayed as wackadoodle, there’s a charm there that transcends, say, Miyesha.

Her man Steven’s all, like, yeah, people say she’s nuts, but I don’t know what goes on in her head. “There’s something wrong with that girl,” he says. “She need help.”

“Princess Beautiful Amanda” is how she’s wording her name during their vow-writing-via-smartphone segment. “Steven’s no fun; he’s like a fart,” is how she refers to him.

Onto the food-tasting, Amanda discovers a tomato that wasn’t as pretty as she likes tomatoes to be. So she throws it at Steven, who says he’s embarrassed to be with her at this moment. Bro, man the fuck up. There’s a reason you dig this craydy and I presume they ain’t showing it on WeTV, nahmean?

Onto the joint bachelor/bachelorette party. That construct totally blows. As Steven justifiably points out, he can’t go to the strip club with his boys. At least a pair of bridesmaids start kissing and grinding. On each other. Look:

Upset that all attention isn’t on her, Amanda then tries to pick fights unsuccessfully.

Next day, which is her wedding day, she’s all hungover and fawning over Steven’s friend, who she deems as perfect and totes better than the man she’s about to marry. His name is James. And he “didn’t expect to be her personal assistant for the day” moments before she proposes they should run off and get married.

Yo, she looks real ragged too, yo. Like, out at the late-90s Princeton until after closing and all shriveled up on the deck around 8 a.m., not knowing how she got home. O AN SHE ANGRY.

Blah. Blah. Blah. They get married, discuss how bad one another’s breath is during the post-vow Zillasview and pose for photos. Then, she flips the fuck out because it’s taking too long to introduce the wedding party and they’re already started serving food and she’s “tired of being nice,” so she does this:

Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted. Later.

WALK THE PLANK, BRO

I’m only half paying attention at the onset, but I think 1) Debbie Gibson just said she and Chris got some squirrels in the mix, 2) Kirsten put a pink wig on Seth and banged him twice and 3) Rob and Remy got off by purchasing new followers on Twitter.

Then, they’re off onto some “Burning Questions” thing in which spouse No. 1 asks spouse No. 2 anything they want (and vice versa).

Byron doodles something that looks like Bart Simpsons’ head with breastuses. Porsha then claims that the guards made up the fact that Byron cheated on her because they want her to look like a fool. Let this moment serve as proof that not only is Porsha on the show in an attempt to land a spinoff, but she’s a bad actress who maintains that she wants to stay at the #BZBootCamp estate to better herself. OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THE PHONE AGAIN. THAT GODDAMN PHONE SHOULD HAVE ITS OWN SHOW ALREADY SO I CAN IGNORE IT AND NEVER HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT BYRON’S FUCKING CELL PHONE AGAIN. If I was #BZBootCamp counselor Dana, I wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face when speaking with these two, especially when Byron stammers through a surely-scripted apology to the crowd.

Anyway, they’re onto some sort of life-preserver thing in the backyard. Sinking ship. Only room for one of you. Yawn. If any of these guys don’t jump in the water to spare their lady, they’re instantly the worst person on earth. So of course Fake Twitter Follower Enthusiast Rob Maaddi starts talking about how he’s scared of swimming.

This is so damn contrived. But I watch. Because I hope one of these dudes tries to pull off the “I should live” grift. So, Chris and Marlon and Seth go in the drink.

Then, FTFE Rob talks all big and bold about how he’d dive in headfirst for her but he doesn’t swim, so he can’t.

And Remy starts talking about a fucking panic attack when faced with the prospect of jumping in a kiddie pool on the set of a TV show as if it’s the North Fucking Atlantic.

These two jitbags. (Side note: If these two get a spinoff show, will they pack the studio audience with Real Dolls to represent their Twitter following?)

“We’re going to need a bigger ego.”

This is especially ironic in the wake of #SharkNado and the bravery of the 90210 guy therein.

And then he storms around the house in boxer briefs trashing the place before talking about how being a sportswriter means he has to be around sports 24/7. This, despite the fact that it’s just not true. OMG MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH. FTFE REMY TELLS FTFE ROB THAT SHE’S JEALOUS OF THE ATTENTION HE PAYS TO SPORTS BECAUSE SPORTS SPORTS SPORTS (make an easy plotline for an appearance fueled by a desire for more TV time).

Byron and Porsha up there on the plank now. Byron jumps.

Once they’re all gathered in the kitchen after all this, the Kirsten/Debbie Gibson war flares up again.

Ayo, is Kirsten flashing gang signs behind Seth’s back? TAMPA FLA REPRESENT WHAT WHAT

As in Kirsten says DG is trashy and mean and DG is all, like, stand up for yourself instead of relying on Seth as your tough-guy mouthpiece!

And Kirsten’s all I don’t respect you and I don’t TRY TO HURT PEOPLE LIKE YOU!

And new Kirsten is more adult that Bridezilla Kirsten so I’m'a leave the room so I don’t have to be around a “girl like her!” And that “she’d be butt ugly if she didn’t have a skinny body and big boobs.” Um, yeah.

And DG’s all, like, I’m glad she stood up for herself.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRR!

(Real Talk: This doesn’t seem scripted so FTFEs Rob and Remy and Porsha and Byron should take note. Realer Talk: Seth’s whole “‘Melissa’ acts this way because she was made fun of” don’t hold much water as hot chicks with skinny bodies and big boobs don’t often get made fun of.)

This is just so played out now. Thank goodness the season’s just about over. If I knew then what I know now, well I don’t want to say that I’d have ignored #BZBootCamp, but I’d have come close to it. I just feel bad for these counselors/guards that thought they were getting five couples interested primarily in fixing their relationships. Poor things.

First thing I noticed about this week’s Bridezillas episodes were Stephanie‘s boobs, because as you can see from the lead-in shot (which expands if you click on it, of course), Stephanie was bouncing those boobs all around the screen as the episode started. Then, within minutes, she Tased someone and was threatened with institutionalization. Then, she couldn’t remember the name of the military guy she’s a’marryin’.

Side note: My bride — a non-zilla — is watching with me this morning (watched boxing last night instead of live coverage; sue me). Her reaction within the first two minutes: “She’s crazy.”

This was right before Dame Titsy McSouthernDrawl of Chattanooga conceded that she has a couple dudes as bridesmaids ’cause she don’t have many ladyfriends. (Well, at least one. His name’s Krupp for whatever reason.) I can’t imagine why. One of the guymaids concedes that there was a time when he thought “I’d be nice to walk down Stephanie with the aisle.”

Moments later, she walks out of a dressing room with her breastuses just spilling out of a dress. Guymaid was impressed, until she started fiddling around with her tampon string. No, I didn’t make anything in these preceding paragraphs up.

Yo, she’s totally nuts. But whatever. Blame a society in which hot chicks are pedestaled and red carpeted.

Anyway, Titsanie doesn’t want Chris’ mammy at the wedding. And Chris wants Chris’ mammy at the wedding. So Titsanie locks herself in the bathroom. Then, she emerges with a Taser and Chris willingly takes a Tasing. Look:

“I do like causing pain. Uh, for some reason it gives me pleasure,” Titsanie says. “Sometimes it gives (sic) my rocks off. What can I say?”

(Later in the show, Chris’ mammy offers a Reader’s Digest version: Stephanie is “a bitch” who’s been handed everything in life.)

One of the bridesmaids is a former boss who fired her for starting trouble with fellow employees and whatnot.

She gets freaked out during her pedicure because of all the dead skin.

And, she says they’re going to their house for their honeymoon. Nudity. Whips. Chains. Impregnation. That type of stuff.

“I do have some sick fetishes,” she admits in Hallmarkian fashion.

If Titsanie does not have at least one reel on YouPorn already, she will by this time next week. Bet.

Verdict: There’s really no upshot from here as she doesn’t strike me as having gone through any level of intensive intellectual education which would enable her to cash in on much beyond penis-cupcake eating and whippin’ and chainin’ and breedin’ but whatever. We’re all God’s children.

Horrible-person Miyesha is back. And she’s adding charges to her $15K+ affair, all while asking for a fake invoice to show her victim.

“I am delusional,” HP Miyesha says. “But I’m gonna be delusional with an awesome wedding, guest book and awesome everything.”

Blah, blah, blah. Take a look at how the bridesmaids look during a discussion with the divazilla at the nail salon. This is right before Jimmie (middle) says she would fight her today if need be.

So, Jimmie’s out. And everytime they flash back to Miyesha segments, I find myself wishing they’d just marry her the eff off already and cut back to Titsanie, for whom I hope a five-episode arc is scheduled (with a behind-the-YouPorn-curtain director’s cut).

Miyesha’s outside fighting with yet another bridesmaid at this point. This is getting so damn tired. She’s unlikable to begin with, even from a train-wreck observational platform. Etc.

Flash forward to wedding morning. Groom got fired from his job, apparently, because of the whole Bridezillas thang. And now there are questions of whether vows will actually be exchanged. This concerns Miyesha because of the money that could be lost, nothing nuptial-related in the least.

But then he says all that was a joke or whatever. She says it wasn’t funny. But it was funny because he got the better of her. (Fun fact: Miyesha is wearing a sweatshirt with a Fleur-de-lis on the back; Titsanie was wearing a Fleur-de-lis necklace. Wake up, sheeple.)

Then, they try to kick the WeTV staff out of the limo en route to the wedding. Then, they get out of the limo when the staff doesn’t get out. Then, the staff gets out and they get back in and ride off into the hellscape.

Good. Nation’s better off that this union goes uncelebrated.

Marlon’s sick of these questions, yo.

Alright. On to this week’s episode which would have been the finale if that thing I read earlier in the season held true. But it’s not. It’s the second to last. Third to last if you include the finale which was filmed in NYC late last month. (Last episode and finale will air next week, thus pushing the next episode of Bridezillas off a week).

They start with Seth and Kirsten, who thinks she’s really changing thanks to #BZBootcamp.

Then, they go to the FTFEs. I won’t oblige by doing anything but fast-forwarding until they’re off.

Then, they go back to Byron and Porsha and the MFING CELL PHONE AGAIN. FAST-FORWARD. DUDE IS A CHEATER. WE ALL KNOW IT. JEEZ.

Back to the tough-questions drill for some confirmation or denyin’.

Debbie Gibson is askin’ Chris whether he trusts her. (Says he does).

FTFE FF.

Danni asks Marlon if he’s been inappropriate while DJing since they wed. (Says he hasn’t.)

Kirsten asks Seth if he wishes he’d never married her. (Says no.)

Cell-phoners FF.

Chris asks DG if she’s still attracted to him. (Yes.)

FTFE FF.

Seth asks if she still thinks he’s the one. (Yeah, but she wishes they had more money)

Cell-phoners FF.

AND OUT COMES THE LIE DETECTOR TEST. WOOT!!!! MAURY VIBE UP IN THIS PIECE, YO!!!

They show all them getting strapped in and wired up. The questions start. And Kirsten starts flipping out all tears and heavy panting and whatnot. And then Seth’s up and he doesn’t flip out.

Ooh, there’s a little bit of a cause when Chris is asked if he still trusts DG.

FTFEs: FF.

Cell-phoners: FF (which ends with Porsha saying she trusts Byron, which is a case study in denial evident by the replay of the two or three people with which he’s currently cheating; why are these people still on the show for fuck’s sake?)

TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL!

Seth really wanted to marry Kirsten, is proud of himself as a husband and a dad. Kirsten thinks he’s doing good as parent and sensed deception when asked if “he’s the one.” She don’t care what the machine says. And that she’s scared about being hooked up to things.

FTFEs: FF.

Danni and Marlon up. Trust: there. Respect his gig? Well, it kinda is a hobby, says L.D. machine. He was never inappropriate at work and he passes with flying colors so she feels like she and he’s all that’s it with that question, yo.

Chris and DG up. She still finds him attractive, and they can have more children. (Happy moment!) Counselor points out that DG has a commitment to telling the truth no matter what the cost. Chris thinks this marriage WILL last forever.

Cell-phoners: FF.

After the commercial break they show Danni and FTFE (male) talking about how bidets wetten asses. Because FTFE (male) is so very cultured.

And then talk turns to booting cell-phoners out of the Boot Camp. FINAFUCKINLY. “Peace,” is what Cell-Phoner (male) says when he gets up out the living room. Harsh, says head counselor, but had to be done as they were a detriment to the others at Boot Camp for relational-repair purposes. Now, if only they cut bait on the FTFEs who’re at the manse to git themselves a spinoff show.

Here’s a photo of the post-cellphoners Boot Camp:

Anyway, now the remaining contestants are asked to remove their wedding rings, as they’ll now decide — with Boot Camp end nigh — whether their spouse is truly their soul mate. FTFE (female) starts bitchin about separation anxiety. Don’t worry, toots, you two are peas in a famewhoring pod; you’ll get that piece you bought on Jeweler’s Row back for safe keeping in the South Jersey mudsticks.

They split up by gender. Dames go off to their sleeping quarters. DG admits she’s had sex dreams about Dubya. FTFE (woman) says she doesn’t have sex dreams. (Famishness must be sexier).

Chris is all, like, lets set up pillows so it looks like we’re here.

This, because the dudes decided to head on out (real talk: FTFE — male — makes a good point that they were told they only have to SLEEP at the manse; not that they couldn’t go out; point, FTFE male, who says he’s not into sleepovers with dudes before he puts on his goin’-out makeup base).

Well, it doesn’t take long until the dames realized the guys set up the sex dolls in the role of prison-cell-pillows for an escape.

This may be the first time all these folks seemed real. Until Chris — who is presented to the bartender as a parolee — starts talking about wanting a wine cooler. What’s up with that, bro? Good thing the DVR cut off posthaste.

The most damning aspect of the #BZBootCamp season finale is this: The biggest drama that producers/contestants/show-runners could concoct was…

• The guys going out, getting fruity-shot hammered the night before their vow-renewal ceremonies,

• the wives Nancy Drewing their way into figuring out the guys going out sans wedding rings

• Fake Twitter Follower Enthusiast Rob Maaddi whining about how he had a joint bachelor party in Old City Philadelphia — quadrant of douchebros and douchettes from across the Delaware Valley — so he gave a lapdance to chick who looks like Jame Gumb with tits

• All-Drunked up Chris bean spilling about the DJ Bigg Slim spinned/spunned partay as Fake Twitter Follower Enthusiast/annoying harpie Remy Maaddi grills FTFE Rob about the attractiveness of Jame Gumb with tits (and almost being able to pull off an act as if this wasn’t an act)

• Debbie Gibson dressing All-Drunked-Up Chris down for continuing to drink at the house after all this chaos (and threatening to dime the dimer out after he privately bean-spilled), which is pretty much the worst — the threats, not the continued boozing.

That’s it. Because anybody who watched any of this show knows that all four remaining couples will exchange rings at the end of this hour. This, despite the fact that counselor/guard Dana Hamman says “anything could happen after last night.” Maybe so from their insulated-on-set perspective; not in the real world.

I wonder whether they yet realized the FTFEs were in the manse solely to land a spinoff show, and that their acquisition of said spinoff show rewards deception and validates famewhorishness. FTFE Rob is the quintessential jitbag.

Anyway, Danni starts talking about how she learned to let go of the anger, Debbie Gibson realizes she came in “with a horrible attitude” and let go of that, Kirsten notes how she can channel energy into strength, and FTFE Remy says something or other, but I’m so disinterested that I can’t recall a single word of it.

Torn-up hungover Chris is deep talking it, but you know there’s gonna be a ring in his box and a ring in her box and they’re going to recite whatever this goofy reinforcing-vows mantra which ends with “you may now kiss your Bridezilla.”

Danni/Marlon, Kirsten/Seth, Chris/Debbie-Gibson, congrats for surviving this heart-wrenching life challenge. (If you’re now free of contractual obligations, you’re free to write about your experiences on said Bootcamp on this here page; just email me at hickey [at] brianphickey [dot] com.)

And so it was written that the contestants on Marriage Boot Camp: Bridezillas would assemble in New York City — before a live studio audience who responded to the free-ticket offer — for a reunion special months after they walked out of the #BZBootCamp mansion, marriages reinforced.

Noticeable differences: Debbie Gibson done dyed her hair, Fake Twitter Follower Remy Maaddi got knocked up and evictee Porsha is projecting the failures — via kneejerk anger — onto the other women.

Welcome to the Miscarriage and/or Let’s Bitch About The Social-Media-Behavior-Of-Others’ Hour!

There’s all sort of drama about emails and back-channel communications about miscarriage alerts between Remy and Danni.

Jitbag Rob questions why Danni didn’t call if she was so worried about FTFE Remy.

This transitions into Chris calling out Kirsten and Seth’s pregnancy or something or other. Which leads Seth to equate Chris to a “neutered cat” and “Ken doll” because he’s all tough online but not off.

Then, Porsha starts bitching about a Debbie Gibson Facebook status update and Chris’ Twitter behavior. I suppose these are the things one has time to worry about when they can’t even fake their way through a gimmicky TV show as efficiently as the man faked his way though the married life.

Attention then turns to the guys heading out partying on BZBootCamp’s penultimate night; specifically, FTFE Rob grinding up on Jame Gumb with tits. He looks so purty on the Reunion Special with the makeup job for which he didn’t need WeTV’s makeup crew; he claims that he got Jame Gumb with Tits’ phone number for whomever didn’t renew their vows (Chris — that drunken narc — he intimates).

When they ask Porsha what would have happened whether Byron would’ve gone out with then, she says he wouldn’t have gotten a ring; the logical leap from there, of course, is that lap-dance recipient Gumb would NOT have had tits. Because, rumors. And, the fact that he only says he’s cheated with “people” not “women.”

AND THEN BYRON TALKS ALL ABOUT HOW HE GOT DIAGNOSED WITH SICKLE CELL BEFORE HE GOT KICKED OUT THE MARRIAGE BOOT CAMP.

“At that age? Sorry, no way buddy,” said a medical professional I know the minute that big reveal was uttered. (So, this whole thing’s about race now. Cool.)

Debbie Gibson’s all, like, IDGAF because I ain’t gonna see any of these people ever again. And roomy Porsha’s all, like, I don’t believe Debbie Gibson’s really a nurse or in nursing school or whatever.

Real talk: This is Porsha’s peak, her 15th minute, her Waterloo.

Realer talk: I hate Debbie Gibson’s dye job. C’mon.

Oh, sweet: Now Porsha’s talking about miscarriages. So, we’ve gone from cell-phone fixations to fetal complications. Pretty good show planning. Really have their fingers on the pulse of the American-TV viewing audience.

Oh snap: They bring lie-detector dude back out to give Byron or whatever a second chance to prove he loves his possibeard, er, Porsha. He declines. She waves divorce papers in front of him. He rips said papers up. She pulls another set out of her pocket. He rips again; says he “can do this on my own.” She says she’ll forge his name. Because this is adult life-decision behavior.

Side note: This looks in no way like a legal document.

What’s become clear is that Porsha must have dirt on someone at WeTV, as they fixate on her even after she got kicked off the show. Fitting ending to a show built upon wasted opportunities, biting off the Maury vibe of backstage action at its climax rather than thinking for itself.

Oh wait, before the credits roll, they allow FTFE Remy to hold pathetic court on the benefits of the win-at-all-costs greed-fueled life. Because, spoiled South Jersey brat.

Thank God this is over.

–30–

Sweet mother of mercy, not two seconds into this week’s Bridezillas, they show Bridezilla Taneema getting lifted up at Logan Square, which is actually a circle in Philadelphia. It’s right next to the Four Seasons. I pass it daily between the lad’s daycare and my office.

After not even two minutes — a span during which the previews show episode cohort Stephanie baring those tiddies that she’s so amply proud of that last episode was a study in Lady Plays With Ample Bosom — it becomes apparent that Taneema thinks she’s Four Seasons, but has more of a sensibility that meshes with the Embassy Suites across 18th St.

Her man Thomas notes, immediately, that “Taneema is crazy.” And that he feels “safer locked in a cage with a bear than I do in a room with her when she doesn’t get her way. You can’t show any weakness around her. If you do, your dead.”

In explaining this to his bride-to-be, he says she’s a wild animal. In watching this, I see North Philly. I also see multiple personalities.

When Taneema’s talking about how much weight she gon drop before the wedding — so that she will represent www.skinny.com — she picks up the phone to order some grub. Chicken Alfredo. “Extra sauce.” Then she explains how all she can afford is “pretzels and coffee.” The wedding gifts will be a “return on investment” to change this.

Free advertising alert: Their wedding was held Nov. 10 at Greater Exodus Baptist Church, right by Broad and Fairmount (or Ridge, since that runs through the intersection, also.)

As she’s designing the wedding invitation, she sidetracks into some porn perusal; well, less porn and more a bunch of topless black guys. This is foreshadowing. There will be topless black guys before this hour’s out, methinks.

Oh look, they’re looking for limos at the place down the hill and a few blocks down from my house!

Remember when Vader says he sensed Skywalker was in the vicinity during Return of the Jedi, but the Emperor didn’t, but — BAM — Luke was there and — POW — the rebellion overthrew the bad folks? I question the Force now, seeing that Bridezillas was within smelling distance of my front door and I didn’t pick up on it. Looks like Taneema gets a little aroused by these pricey limos, too.

This Thomas cat, he’s cool. And, my bride, sitting next to me during the preparation of this here Bridezillas recap, says that Taneema “is hilarious.”

“Struggling makes people stronger,” Taneema says as Thomas signs off on some extravagant limo cost.

From there, it’s onto the bachelorette party. She’s singing songs about penises (penii) of all varieties. Then, the stripper Hank arrives. They’re all doing shots in the kitchen as Hank goes upstairs to prep for the show. He takes a long while to get dressed (ironic, huh?) so Taneema’s screaming up the steps that he should hurry the hell up. She’s been waiting to see black cock for a while now and here comes Hank dressed as a road worker. Orange vest and yellow helmet.

Taneema implores Hank not to play with her breastuses “on camera” since she goes “to church.”

“He was a big man. Just a really, really big man,” she says of Hank’s manmeat which attendees proceed to compare to a “hoagie” or a “cheesesteak.”

Suffice it to say, everyone seemed quite satisfied with Hank’s performance.

Also, the wedding — which included some weird “tribute dance” straight out of a Grace Jones fever dream — and reception — in which a drill team escorts them into the room — were nice.

Taneema and Thomas’ wedding was so god-damn Philly that WeTV has made me forget that Rob and Remy were ever on this show. Philly rep restored. Woot.

Titsyzilla Stephanie is back. She’s talking to, and playing with them, again. Which is cool. Even if she’s batshit cray.

“I probably want to get married more than she does,” says the man of Stephanie. She then notes that marriage is really just a piece of paper.

WeTV should give his lady a show instead of those Fake Twitter Follower Enthusiasts Rob and Remy from Bridezillas: Marriage Boot Camp; this, because she’s not just famewhoring like those two. She’s genuinely nuts and people would tune the hell in. Real people, WeTV.

At the florist’s — which is her man’s aunt or something — she calls the flowers ugly and storms out. Huffing a cigarette in the parking lot, she calls fiance and blames his mammy for some sort of conspiratorial attack.

During a group dinner, her maid of honor refers to Titsanie as a “grown baby.”

Here she is when she takes her top off at a club of ill repute on Wedding’s Eve, an event at which she slugs both tequila (a lot of Patron, served in plastic cups) and dancers including drag queen Aarica she deems inferior from a stripping perspective.

“I’m wet. I’m dirty. I need to be cleaned up,” she declares.

Shame on WeTV for blurring.

Thankfully, with a third episode in the Titsanie Saga coming next week, there’s still time for more. I suspect it might even top the whole drag-queen scuffle at the end of this episode.

Real talk: This may have been the best hour in television history.

With this being the 10th and final season, I found myself wondering how Bridezillas would go out, whether it be with a bang or timidly. Even if there’s not a moment worth remembering after this week’s Taneema and Stephanie episode, we’ll always have the latter’s drunken hoedown.

Daps to the captioner, too. Not the same without it …

Bridezilla Krystal is a baller. She, her nose ring and half-dozen crucifixes were all, like, to groom-to-be, If you miss this shot on the court, you’re gonna do, like, 60 situps or pushups or whatever. Don’t remember. I was too mesmerized by the Mr. T-like Christ display.

She’s also somewhat cunty insofar as she “guesses” that cervical cancer is enough of an excuse for her “selfish” wedding planner to be working kinda slow. “Karma’s a bitch,” she says. “What goes around comes around.” This quote wasn’t directly in reference to the cancer, so, ok.

Only thing karma got going on right now is pairing Krystal with Stephanie’s episode, because within three minutes of airtime, she’s already an afterthought. This applies to when:

• She mocks the bridesmaids’ physiques (including the term “pudge.”)

• She does anything else during the rest of the show.

• Seriously, anything she does is an afterthought.

• Even when she shows up at the dry cleaners (aka mom — with special eyebrows — and step daddy) asking for $400 cash money since “they haven’t done much to help me with the wedding.”

• However, her daddy Jerome, he seems pimp smoove with his jeff cap and all. So there’s that.

I wish Bridezilla Stephanie was on each and every one of the show’s final episodes. Because, Bridezilla Stephanie has set a new bar on batshit craycrayzilla (Exhibit A. Exhibit B.)

It tore me up to be on vacation when this here third appearance aired last week.

And it pleased me to no end that WeTV returned to the scene of stripping and dancing and tequilaing and fighting with drag queening. (She just grabbed the wig and she guesses “the person” was offended.)

“DRAG QUEEN BITCHES!” Stephanie yells as her aunt refastens her bustier to sorta cover most of the teet meat.” Then, there’s this scene:

That’s titzilla screaming about drag queens and getting threatened with institutionalization (“I DON’T CAYYYYYRRRRRRE!!!!!”) I wouldn’t care about much anything either, if a drag queen whooped my azz, so it’s understandable.

“I can’t believe you got hit so hard your boobs fell out,” is what hubby-to-be mentions to his hungover eye-apple. So basically, “victim” Stephanie has gotten away with whipping her titties out at tha club to the point that her friends thought a Girl Interrupted outcome was best.

Fast forward to the tattoo parlor where the pair is getting one another’s names inked on one another. Fun fact: The one on her back already says Bradley. Dude’s name is Chris. Whatever. Love is blood pain and that’s how tha titzilla rolls.

Tattoo Artist Curtis notes that he doesn’t think name ink is good, but that it’s a business plus what with all the name-tat removal work that comes along with such decisions.

At this point, Titzilla then says that she wants her friend Krupp to get his taint waxed (she calls it a “gooch.”) Krupp then sips some red wine before the joint taint-waxing ceremony.

Here’s a picture of Krupp getting his taint waxed:

“I feel violated,” says bridesmaid Krupp after getting his taint waxed.

Anyway, Titzilla’s daddy don’t think she really loves Chris or whatever his name is, which is why he opted not to cover the costs of the impending nuptials. Nuptials, mind you, that are taking place in a high-school gymnasium. Maybe a grammar school, actually. Or maybe it’s a church-school gym. Hell if I know.

Kinda distracted by Titzilla in a Robe Knocking Trees Over and Trippin’ About Missing Cupcakes. That, and how Chris found out what REALLY happened at the bachelorette party. Namely, going topless. In front of erbody (blurred photo here).

Here she is crytalkin’ to daddy just before a ceremony for which groom commitment is not yet confirmed:

Anyway, Daddy showed up. Chris showed, too. As did shorn-tainted bridesmaid Krupp, who wore a red dress shirt. And a minister who looks like Rob Reiner. This, despite the fact that her breastuses ain’t hanging out the gown.

I believe this is the first moment, in three not-long-enough episodes, in which they’re covered. So much for the sanctity of marriage. Thankfully, she had some event-inappropriate attire for the reception.

God is good.

Meet Bridezilla Evelina. She’s a rather attractive “Polish-European princess” who’s marrying some guy named “Levi” who she met “at the mall.”

When asked if it “was love at first sight,” a dual uncomfortable silence ensues. Aw.

The first stop in their Bridezillas segment is a visit to the cosmetic surgeon. Outside, she says she’s perfect. And, if you don’t believe that, you should just look at her. This visit, it turns out, is for Levi. They don’t get to the visit before Evelina goes all road ragey en route.

Way I see it, the cosmetic surgeon is a blessing; one can see traces of butterface-past in Evelina’s pre-new?-nose pre-new-breastuses narrative. Then again, maybe not. She may be the most attractive Zilla in the past 10 years. Accent don’t hurt in the least. Real talk: I wish SHE got in a topless fight with a drag queen like Zilla Stephanie.

Anyway, Levi’s getting some Botox work done to his face as Evelina hovers like a cloud. Bridesmaid Burke noted that if she was Levi, she’d probably be a little upset with the whole “you need work done to your face” thing. Levi “is the victim over here” and he blames himself for letting her make him feel that way. He’s staring in the mirror, taking in his Botoxed face. She’s upset that he isn’t looking at it from her perspective, the whole “I want my man to fix his face” thing, that is.

“She’s so selfish,” says Levi, “but she’s so hot.”

I could’ve drop a –30– after that quote — no further summation needed — but episode’s only half over and she’s already saying “my looks are important to me. Since I have them, why would I waste them?”

Deep.

There’s some sort of scuffle at the hair-and-makeup trial. She says she’s not paying because her hair’s thin or something. She throws male stylist’s stuff outside her front door and says she DGAF because whatever, hot > anything else, right?

It’s at this point where they have a preview-tease showing her dress getting doused with sprinklers at the photo shoot; my bride notes that this is “hilarious” in light of Evelina’s shenanigans to-date.

There is confusion regarding a sunrise photo shoot that she had planned. As she’s getting her hair done, in bright sunlight, she asks if they’ll be able to get photos taken during sunrise. She’s told that she won’t, because the sun is already up. This is cause for confusion. And, the photo poses are cause for photographer to tell Levi that he should try smiling since he looks like a vampire about to sink his teef in her neck.

Here she is dealing with the stress of a dress that got dirty four days before the wedding:

Also, Bridezilla Krystal was back on for a second appearance with her man-to-be Marvin. She and her bridesmaids are preparing some sexy chair dance for the wedding. They’re trying to be Destiny’s Child but none of them even one-sixth as talented as Michelle Williams.

There’s manmeat dressed like Zorro at the bachelorette party to which she wore huge crucifix earrings. There, Aunt Edie maintains that one needn’t get fully naked to be a stripper. She bases this on the fact that she “used to be a stripper but I never got butt-azz nekkid.”

The narrator says that Krystal is “about to get glazed.” I don’t think the narrator recognizes the bukkake implications of that phrase. Or maybe she does. Which would be pretty wild. Not as wild as if there was actual bukkake on Bridezillas. But wild nonetheless.

Fast-forward to wedding planning: She’s treating a groomsman Donnie like she’s Walter Sobchak and he’s the Dude and Walt’s bowling partner.

Sooooo boring, this Krystal, even when she’s throwing salad at one of her bridesmaids and almost brawling before the rehearsal dinner or something. Then, they get married. Here’s hoping WeTV sends me a voucher for the time I lost watching the Krystal saga. Thank Christ she was packaged with the co-stars she had the past two weeks.