Post by Summer St Clair on Jul 22, 2014 17:26:08 GMT -5
Welcome, dear viewers! It is time once again for...
On this episode, we follow our starlet as she vacations in Rio with Twitter acquaintance and extremely flamboyant fashionista Rodrigo. I guess you could call it a...Summer vacation. (Sorry...) The two are just in time for Carnival, and the sights and sounds of that celebration take up a good chunk of the episode's footage, mercifully reducing the on-screen time for our notorious protagonist. Still, there is enough of Summer in the first half-hour or so to justify our usual fast-forwarding exercise. So bear with us as we skip to the relevant section of this week's broadcast.
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This time, the 'shoot' portion which forms part and parcel of every episode of 'Stepping Out With Summer' begins in a balcony overlooking Rio's iconic scenery. In the distance, the Corcovado spreads his arms over the urban maze below, the Pao de Acucar visible a little off to the side and a line of sandy beaches and clear blue seawater sprawling as far as the eye can see.
For the person taking up most of the foreground, however, the most beautiful thing about this particular image is most likely herself. Summer St. Clair wears something which can be construed as 'swimwear' in only the most technical sense: three small cloth triangles bound by string, which would probably set an average worker bee back a month's wages. Her legs are propped up on the balcony, and in her hand is the kind of fancy, colourful drink people like her spend money on to feel exclusive, blissfully overlooking the fact that they are basically buying pineapple juice with maybe a dash of alcohol thrown in. As the camera closes in, she rolls her eyes and huffs, in an all-too-familiar expression:
'Like, OH. Mygosh. Excuse you? I'm like, trying to relax here, hel-lo?'
'I'm sorry, Summer', comes a voice from off-camera. 'We have to record the piece for LAW now, or it won't reach the US on time.'
'UGH. Fine!' The starlet rolls her eyes again. From off-camera comes the indication:
'When you're ready. We're rolling.'
''K.' Summer loosens her neck, as if preparing for a match, then begins: 'hey *bleep*ches! I hope you're all having fun in, like, the boonies, or wherever it is you live, Iowa or something...ugh.'
The blonde shudders, then continues:
'As you can see, I'm in, like, Rio? And I know you *bleep*ches are jelly or whatever, but guess what? I don't really give a *bleep*! I'm rich, you're not, deal with it!'
The starlet snaps her fingers defiantly before proceeding:
'And guess what? You're gonna be even more jelly when I go back to, like, the States? 'Cause apart from a fabulous tan and great Brazilian *bleep*, I'm also gonna get, like, your stupid Championship or whatever? Not that I care. That thing is *bleep*ing ugly and tacky and ugh! But if I win it, I can like make it a part of my clothing line or whatever? And then everybody's gonna want one! It'll, like, raise your prostate or whatever. You're gonna become, like, famous? Yeah. But if any of those other *bleep*ches gets it? Yeah, it's just gonna be the same old ugly, tacky, low-rent belt that nooooobody gives a *bleep* about!'
Swearsy, aren't we, Summer? Is it the alcohol?
'And speaking of these other *bleep*ches? Honey, please! They all say they're like, rich or whatever, but noooobody's ever heard of them. Like this Sky Sharks chick? Honey, your parents had, like, the worst taste in names, ohmygod! Unless it's, like, a joke or whatever. But honey, your names sounds like one of those cheap-*bleep* hos you see in like Laguna Beach or wherever. And you come from England? Oh. Mygod. If I was from England? I'd never, ever say I was from there, ew! It's always raining and everybody's got, like, super-gross teeth and *bleep*. And like, noooobody understands what the *bleep* you're saying? Like, you should speak like, normally? Like, American? Ew! And you're, like, the Champion? Ell-oh-ell! This is gonna be, like, super-easy for me!'
Having insulted the entirety of her British fanbase, the Beverly Hills blonde moves on:
'Then there's this *bleep*tch Crystal Hilton? Or should I say...Christiiiinaaaa?'
Summer leans forward, a perfect mean-girl smirk on her lips as she trots out her opponent's real - and hated - name. That objective hopefully accomplished, she proceeds:
'This *bleep*tch calls herself 'The Reflection of Perfection', or whatever? Sweetie please! You're already looking at the 'Reflection of Perfection!' And 'The Rose Goddess'? Oh-em-gee-ell-oh-ell! Goddess? More like Got-*bleep*, amirite? As in 'got a fat *bleep*?'
The blonde laughs at her own joke, then goes on:
'And besides...you're like, Mexican or whatever! Eeee-ewwwww! Super-gross! I hope one of those other *bleep*ches elucidates you or whatever, so I don't have to, like, touch you! Ew, I don't want to get, like, rabies!'
Nice job, Summer. You have now insulted two whole demographics. Can we go for the triplet?
'And then there's, like, Sidney Grey? Somebody I've, like, actually heard of, ohmygod! But you know what I heard? I heard, like, her TV station or whatever? They're, like, so done with her! And they want me! It's like I said, if you want to get like rapings or whatever, you gotta have me.'
The starlet does not seem aware of the implications of her latest grammar butchering, as she simply goes on:
'So yeah, Sidney. Make like a kangaroo and hop your sorry *bleep* back to like, Australia or whatever and stop trying to act like you're better than me. 'Cause I'm the one who's gonna win that stupid belt and make it, like, a thing. And I don't care how many of you stuck-up wannabe hater *bleep*tches come at me. 'K? Thanks. Bye!'
With a sarcastic little finger-wiggle to the camera, Summer finishes her address. Then, seeing the camera still rolling, her expression immediately changes to stern, almost angry:
'Cut it!'
'Hold on a minute, Summer. We're taking some extra...'
'I SAID CUT IT!', the blonde shrieks, causing an entering Rodrigo to spill the drinks he is carrying. Seeing the shot glasses hit the floor with a clink, the Beverly Hills starlet becomes even more incensed:
'Like, oh. MYGOD. Look what you've DONE! Now I can't have my COCKTAIL because you STUPID *BLEEP*ING IDIOTS WOULDN'T STOP FILMING AND UUUUUGGGGHHHH!'
With this, the show's protagonist stalks off in a huff, leaving Rodrigo and the camera crew to exchange looks for a minute before the feed cuts to commercial. As for us, our job here is done, so see you in two weeks for our bi-weekly dose of communal torture. Until then, be well and Godspeed!
STEPPING OUT WITH SUMMER!
On this episode, we follow our starlet as she vacations in Rio with Twitter acquaintance and extremely flamboyant fashionista Rodrigo. I guess you could call it a...Summer vacation. (Sorry...) The two are just in time for Carnival, and the sights and sounds of that celebration take up a good chunk of the episode's footage, mercifully reducing the on-screen time for our notorious protagonist. Still, there is enough of Summer in the first half-hour or so to justify our usual fast-forwarding exercise. So bear with us as we skip to the relevant section of this week's broadcast.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This time, the 'shoot' portion which forms part and parcel of every episode of 'Stepping Out With Summer' begins in a balcony overlooking Rio's iconic scenery. In the distance, the Corcovado spreads his arms over the urban maze below, the Pao de Acucar visible a little off to the side and a line of sandy beaches and clear blue seawater sprawling as far as the eye can see.
For the person taking up most of the foreground, however, the most beautiful thing about this particular image is most likely herself. Summer St. Clair wears something which can be construed as 'swimwear' in only the most technical sense: three small cloth triangles bound by string, which would probably set an average worker bee back a month's wages. Her legs are propped up on the balcony, and in her hand is the kind of fancy, colourful drink people like her spend money on to feel exclusive, blissfully overlooking the fact that they are basically buying pineapple juice with maybe a dash of alcohol thrown in. As the camera closes in, she rolls her eyes and huffs, in an all-too-familiar expression:
'Like, OH. Mygosh. Excuse you? I'm like, trying to relax here, hel-lo?'
'I'm sorry, Summer', comes a voice from off-camera. 'We have to record the piece for LAW now, or it won't reach the US on time.'
'UGH. Fine!' The starlet rolls her eyes again. From off-camera comes the indication:
'When you're ready. We're rolling.'
''K.' Summer loosens her neck, as if preparing for a match, then begins: 'hey *bleep*ches! I hope you're all having fun in, like, the boonies, or wherever it is you live, Iowa or something...ugh.'
The blonde shudders, then continues:
'As you can see, I'm in, like, Rio? And I know you *bleep*ches are jelly or whatever, but guess what? I don't really give a *bleep*! I'm rich, you're not, deal with it!'
The starlet snaps her fingers defiantly before proceeding:
'And guess what? You're gonna be even more jelly when I go back to, like, the States? 'Cause apart from a fabulous tan and great Brazilian *bleep*, I'm also gonna get, like, your stupid Championship or whatever? Not that I care. That thing is *bleep*ing ugly and tacky and ugh! But if I win it, I can like make it a part of my clothing line or whatever? And then everybody's gonna want one! It'll, like, raise your prostate or whatever. You're gonna become, like, famous? Yeah. But if any of those other *bleep*ches gets it? Yeah, it's just gonna be the same old ugly, tacky, low-rent belt that nooooobody gives a *bleep* about!'
Swearsy, aren't we, Summer? Is it the alcohol?
'And speaking of these other *bleep*ches? Honey, please! They all say they're like, rich or whatever, but noooobody's ever heard of them. Like this Sky Sharks chick? Honey, your parents had, like, the worst taste in names, ohmygod! Unless it's, like, a joke or whatever. But honey, your names sounds like one of those cheap-*bleep* hos you see in like Laguna Beach or wherever. And you come from England? Oh. Mygod. If I was from England? I'd never, ever say I was from there, ew! It's always raining and everybody's got, like, super-gross teeth and *bleep*. And like, noooobody understands what the *bleep* you're saying? Like, you should speak like, normally? Like, American? Ew! And you're, like, the Champion? Ell-oh-ell! This is gonna be, like, super-easy for me!'
Having insulted the entirety of her British fanbase, the Beverly Hills blonde moves on:
'Then there's this *bleep*tch Crystal Hilton? Or should I say...Christiiiinaaaa?'
Summer leans forward, a perfect mean-girl smirk on her lips as she trots out her opponent's real - and hated - name. That objective hopefully accomplished, she proceeds:
'This *bleep*tch calls herself 'The Reflection of Perfection', or whatever? Sweetie please! You're already looking at the 'Reflection of Perfection!' And 'The Rose Goddess'? Oh-em-gee-ell-oh-ell! Goddess? More like Got-*bleep*, amirite? As in 'got a fat *bleep*?'
The blonde laughs at her own joke, then goes on:
'And besides...you're like, Mexican or whatever! Eeee-ewwwww! Super-gross! I hope one of those other *bleep*ches elucidates you or whatever, so I don't have to, like, touch you! Ew, I don't want to get, like, rabies!'
Nice job, Summer. You have now insulted two whole demographics. Can we go for the triplet?
'And then there's, like, Sidney Grey? Somebody I've, like, actually heard of, ohmygod! But you know what I heard? I heard, like, her TV station or whatever? They're, like, so done with her! And they want me! It's like I said, if you want to get like rapings or whatever, you gotta have me.'
The starlet does not seem aware of the implications of her latest grammar butchering, as she simply goes on:
'So yeah, Sidney. Make like a kangaroo and hop your sorry *bleep* back to like, Australia or whatever and stop trying to act like you're better than me. 'Cause I'm the one who's gonna win that stupid belt and make it, like, a thing. And I don't care how many of you stuck-up wannabe hater *bleep*tches come at me. 'K? Thanks. Bye!'
With a sarcastic little finger-wiggle to the camera, Summer finishes her address. Then, seeing the camera still rolling, her expression immediately changes to stern, almost angry:
'Cut it!'
'Hold on a minute, Summer. We're taking some extra...'
'I SAID CUT IT!', the blonde shrieks, causing an entering Rodrigo to spill the drinks he is carrying. Seeing the shot glasses hit the floor with a clink, the Beverly Hills starlet becomes even more incensed:
'Like, oh. MYGOD. Look what you've DONE! Now I can't have my COCKTAIL because you STUPID *BLEEP*ING IDIOTS WOULDN'T STOP FILMING AND UUUUUGGGGHHHH!'
With this, the show's protagonist stalks off in a huff, leaving Rodrigo and the camera crew to exchange looks for a minute before the feed cuts to commercial. As for us, our job here is done, so see you in two weeks for our bi-weekly dose of communal torture. Until then, be well and Godspeed!