This image was lost some time after publication, but you can still view it here.


It seems like it was only five weeks ago we forced Intern David to watch the first episode of PoweR Girls. Misty watercolored memories... That first night, David thought things couldn't get much worse — and to his credit, he was right. (For once, and only once, because Interns are never right.) The show's finale managed to burrow itself into a sub-Saharan level of mediocrity that made the Philadelphia season of The Real World look like the Seattle season. After the jump, David bids farewell to Lizzie and the gang.

Needless to say, I was crap-my-pants thrilled the show came to an anticlimactic conclusion last night so I can go back to doing anything but watch and write about PoweR Girls each and every Thursday.

I have learned a lot since the show premiered. While I used to feel suicidal listening to Lizzie s banshee yelp, I can no longer blame the not-so-poor girl. She is clearly deaf. How else to explain her dreadful taste in music? I m really impressed by the Valli Girls, Lizzie says of the most unimpressive band in the history of sound. Suddenly, my mother s love of Hall & Oates doesn t seem that wrong. And yes, the band is called the V-a-l-l-i Girls. Why? Because they re retarded.

So what s the first step in improving a group that sounds like Meat Loaf s ass? Media training, of course. Everyone knows you re never gonna make it in the big leagues if you don t how to pose for the camera. Just ask Nick Nolte. Band member Este, who is one T away from being a complete nut, has particular difficulty mastering the fine art of posing and walking. She also talks like a sailor, a sailor who likes to bring up the fact she s on the rag. This juicy tidbit actually caused Ali to shudder, which was the same reaction I had watching the sleep-inducing Gruber in her short-sleeve/long-sleeve ensemble. Where s Jonathan Cheban when you need him?

Certainly not at Ja Rule s album release party, which couldn t even attract any C-list celebrities, besides Lizzie Grubman. The day after the hapless affair, we find Lizzie hard at work poolside (exposing just enough flesh to not make me queasy) begging my boo-to-be Paula Froelich to mention the party in Page Six. Of course, Paula declines because she has journalistic integrity. And she s a mega bitch. But that s precisely why I m madly in love with her.

When Ja s album debuts at a disappointing seven, MTV s crack staff of editors provides a montage of what should be Lizzie looking upset, only those darned botox injections mask any sort of visible emotion. We did a fabulous, fabulous job, lies Lizzie, as she spins her patented PR dribble.

But hey, we might as well just look on the bright side. There s always going to be another event, Lizzie cries. There s always going to be another album release party. And there will never be another episode of PoweR Girls. Thank you, God. You re a pretty swell dude.