It's The Real World. It is. (5)

Colie, Colie, Colie: Hey, I'm a man -- does that mean I get a blow job? Yes it does, if only I had met you. But it wouldn't be for stimulation that I would put my penis in your mouth, Colie; it would be to shut you up. You are the quintessential fresh-out-of-college, over-dependent "mess" that every man should avoid. You're a sloppy drunk, you need to get a better immune system, and I'm sure the president of Tulane cringes whenever he sees you in that sweatshirt. Oh, and sometimes it looks like you have Down syndrome. A mild case, but definitely Down's.

Stephen: I'll admit there were moments when I tolerated you, but all in all, those moments were outweighed by instances when I despised your Republican ass, like when you were acting so bitch-made as an Outward Bound instructor. Remember when you had to go to a wedding for your sister and you smugly said you didn't feel bad about leaving because you were going to see people you actually cared about? As opposed to the campers who you could give two shits about? I can't wait until you're running for city council in whatever satellite suburb you move you and your unfortunate wife to, and someone points out that it was Hurricane Katrina victims you snubbed. You say you want to be a politician, yet you can't even sit still for a photo op with Katrina victims? Way to go, James Carville.

Jenn: I have to say, you were the coolest girl. Yeah, you were a whore, but you owned being a whore. And I appreciate that. I also appreciate your fantastic tits, but who in God's name do you think you are fooling with those eyebrows, girlfriend? They're hideous! Here's a tip: When you're ripping out chunks of flesh, you may be over-plucking. At that point, you probably thought, "I'll just paint them back on and nobody will notice how freakish my eyebrows look." And that thought would be true, if by "nobody" you meant "all of America."