Tila Tequila Goes to Mexico (Ep. 9)

Sweetheart Tila, we’d long suspected that you were the intuitive sort, but we remained blissfully unaware of your psychic abilities until last night. How else could you have known of Amanda’s evil ulterior motives? And to think, after all you’d done for her, that she would be so insecure as to disparage the characters of her fellow contestants. The title of your show is A Shot at Love With Tila Tequila, not A Shot at Smack Talk With Tila Tequila or A Shot at Calling Dani a Slutty Strip-Club Regular With Tila Tequila. Amanda, as they say, missed the point of the exercise, which was to win your heart, not the attention of your hands. But we digress, and, actually, we lie a little, too. Dani and Bobby did not exactly behave with impunity. But tensions ran high, even given the extremely relaxing and soul-replenishing vistas of body-, mind-, and health-oriented Cancun. And although your hotel appeared to be a quaint, well-designed megalith (built with all the fluorish of a Bauhaus architect, perhaps one who’d overdosed on moldy Manchego the night before sitting down at the drafting table), there was no peace to be found in Mexico. No peace at all.

Your “vacation,” such as it was, began with a run for the border and the Melia hotel, located on the coast of the otherwise gorgeous Yucatan peninsula. We were particularly fond of the way Bobby’s shirt matched Dani’s luggage, but such equanimity soon passed. To be fair, it was difficult to credit the lone male with much in the way of suave-itude, considering how impressed he was with the hotel. He crowed about the suite. He drooled over the lobby. He giggle-screamed about the elevator. Tila, is this the man you want to share your life with?

Cut to footage of your final three, each individually impugning the personalities of each other. We found their comments disheartening, but, given the time constraints and their lack of verbal skills, your potential paramours weren’t allowed to expound on their feelings. This because you had bigger plans in mind. Dolphins.

Now, we wouldn’t let any of your contestants near such sweet sea creatures, but you felt compelled to offer them the opportunity. You yourself said that the porpoise-powered pool excursion was like an orgasm, which makes us wonder what, exactly, you get up to in the bedroom, and whether or not you consume a greater-than-average number of towels and/or sardines in your private life.

Dani, what with her physical skills, was equal to the challenge.

Bobby, what with his innocence, called it the best experience of his life.

And Amanda lost her bikini bottoms.

Next, it was time for your date(s). Not that we’re normally so prudish, but we do have to wonder why you thought that if you returned with each of them the following morning, still clad in clothing from the night before, that the other two would be all sunshine-daydream-gumdrop-lollipop-Care Bears. But whatever.

First, Amanda. The blowsy blonde enjoyed a candle-lit dinner with you (tuna, we hope), then proceeded to slag the living hell out of Dani. Grasping at straws, clinging to you like a drowning man to driftwood, Amanda called Dani “promiscuous,” which, given what the producers have seen fit to show us, your humble audience, is a load of garbage on the order of Colin Powell fear-mongering over Niger yellowcake in front of the U.N. Surely something struck you as off, but you nevertheless retired with Amanda to your hot tub, drinking champagne and touching each other in the swimsuit area. Oh, Domenico! Had you stayed, you could have . . . probably been forced to watch that firsthand.

The following morning, over breakfast, Bobby behaved like a child and jealousy ran rampant.

Following that, there was some exercise with a zip line where Amanda blubbered some, Bobby and Dani enjoyed themselves, and you screamed. The point was lost on us, but we’re chalking it up to us not having been there.

Next, Bobby. Your date with Mr. Fresh Off the Boat began with a candle-lit dinner by the beach. He confessed his love for you while you sat there, impassive and stony. Then you retired to your bedroom, from whence you were not to emerge until the following morning.

The following morning, over breakfast, Bobby had the presence of the world’s smuggest weatherman, and Amanda’s jealousy ran rampant. Dani suggested that the following day, after her date with you, that the producers forgo the breakfast idea and schedule a brunch instead, an idea that had Amanda metaphorically stabbing herself in the eye with her fruit fork.

In the meantime, the previous evening, Amanda took Dani shopping for Dani’s date. Dani’s personal style is best described as masculine, and though Amanda attempted to sabotage her charge by squeezing her into outfits even Nicole Scherzinger would find distasteful, ultimately Dani prevailed. She looked . . . well, she looked like Dani, clad in a black shirt and pink tie.

You lay together on a bed strewn with rose petals. Tila, clearly you’d put more effort into your outfit that evening, which leads us to believe that Dani is your winner, but we could be wrong. We’re willing to be wrong. We’ve been wrong before. Then, when you pressed Dani to insult her fellow contestants, she refused, and graciously told you that she was there solely for your happiness. This made you weep over dinner. As we were watching, one of our friends screamed, “No! You’re falling into friend!,” but Dani didn’t fall into friend. Dani fell into bed. With you. And didn’t come up for air until the following morning.

In the meantime, Amanda and Bobby amused themselves by cross-dressing. We literally cannot find the strength to write anything about this, other than to say that we didn’t understand at all, but maybe it was another one of those things for which you just had to be there.

The following morning, over breakfast, Bobby behaved like a child and it appeared as though Amanda was attempting to gag herself with a yogurt spoon.

Finally, at long last, you returned to the Tequila Estate, and eliminated Amanda. And if Amanda still doesn’t know why she was eliminated, we would like to tell her now: Amanda, you quite literally shot yourself in the foot. With your mouth.

It’s down to two. Please, Tila Tequila, for the love of god, pick Dani.