Previously on That’s Amore!: Domenico Nesci acted like the love child of Roberto Benigni and Super Mario. Ashley McNeely continued to have an allergy to sleeves. And Kim stepped forward as the Queen Bee-yotch of the show.
Boy Ashley wakes Domenico up, and I’m stunned his pajamas have sleeves. The two men decide to make breakfast for the ladies. The show revisits the blondes vs. brunettes rivalry in the house. Domenico takes virginal Kathleen aside for a smooch. Boy Ashley gives a nice speech about trying to find love for his BFF, which makes Rebecca cry. Kim hates this. Also, is it just me, or is Boy Ashley more appealing on this show than the guy the girls are trying to fall in love with?
This challenge puts the blondes against the brunettes by making pizza on their heads, and Missy says that her carpet matches the drapes, if she had any carpeting. Just writing “TMI” doesn’t seem adequate enough to describe the level of discomfort I feel. They make their pizzas at different stations, then ride a bike to the house to deliver it. The blondes get off to a huge start, but after a huge falter in finding a key, the brunettes take the lead and win.
This competition is far dumber than the first one, but also less disgusting. Christina cuts herself on the cheese grater and is bleeding profusely, I think. It’s either blood or tomato sauce. The blood won’t stop, and she goes to the hospital, though the blondes don’t care.
While she’s at the hospital, the other brunettes go with Domenico to drink some wine by a fire. Megan is a small-town girl who hates drama. Jessica hates Talor, and claims her ass is better. Love is weird and adorable. Girl Ashley likes to talk. A lot. Christina finally returns, and Domenico is happy she still has her finger. Maybe he’s kinkier than we thought.
Inside, Kim and Missy are throwing condom water balloons at Rebecca, and she’s letting it happen. Kim is devious and uses this to her advantage by tying a tampon in Rebecca’s hair. When the brunettes arrive and see their stuff is wet from the condom water balloons, Kim and Missy blame it on Rebecca. Rebecca cries, again.
The next morning they get a new challenge that involves painting themselves all white and standing on a pedestal like a statue with one foot raised. Last girl standing wins the solo date. Missy falls after just 15 seconds. Christina and Kim go at about 5 minutes. Shortly before 40 minutes, Kathleen, Talor and Girl Ashley all fall. Love goes down, passing out and fainting off the pedestal. Kim claims she was a huge faker. Then Jessica quits. At 50 minutes, Megan drops and Rebecca is the winner. Kim, shock of all shocks, acts bitchy about this.
The solo date is a horse and carriage ride, making Rebecca feel like a princess. She tells him that Kim is acting really mean to her. The get dinner and talk about past relationships. They do the Lady and the Tramp kiss with spaghetti. Back in the house, the brunettes call Kim out for picking on Rebecca. Kim denies it.
Love has returned from the hospital, still wearing a robe and her hospital gown, coughing all over the place. Kim is offended that she didn’t even shower. E! just reran the Saturday Night Live with Scarlett Johansson, and all I can think of is that Kim reminds me of the parody of the girls who appear on My Super Sweet 16. I can totally envision Kim saying “Why won’t Shakira wrestle an alligator? She’s acting like a total immigrant!”
That’s Amore! Elimination Time! Right away, Love gets the boot because she’s so sick. She whispers, “I’m not leaving here without you.” Aww, she seems sweet. Kim gets a flag and gives Domenico a kiss. I’m reminded of another SNL line, which was said by Chris Matthews to Ann Coulter: “I’d call you a fame whore, but that’d be offensive to whores.” The real elimination starts, and it comes down to Jessica and Talor. Talor gets the final flag. I guess that answers the debate of who has the better ass.
Next week on That’s Amore: The girls dress like French maids and clean the kitchen. Then they have a pillow fight in the pool. This show is like the wet dream of an unimaginative 13-yeqar-old boy.
-John Kubicek, BuddyTV Senior Writer
(Image courtesy of MTV)