You know how the first two seasons of Flavor of Love went down. Hoopz never wanted to be with Flav, never called him after the finale was shot. Delishis has gone on to sell jeans, record an album and she’s married to some dude now.

Flav opens the first episode blaming Delishis for needing a season three and a last VH1 chance at “finding love” when the truth is that Flav wanted a third season. Enjoy this one, y’all; Flav “ain’t doing this again” because VH1 is NOT funding another Flav show once this one wraps.

Let’s get started.

Twenty girls stand outside of the mansion as what appears to be a Presidential Motorcade approaches. Looks like VH1 has stepped up the budget to send Flav out with a bang. So what is the “President of Love” looking for in a woman? In his hope that this season has brought him a different bunch of women, Flav reveals that respect is the key to his heart. Respect for his kids, his crib and for him.

And then we see the free-for-all of screams, bed jumping, and elephant riding (you have to see it to get it) once the contestants enter the house. Oh, God, just name this trashy bunch already and get to it.

Poor Big Rick is back and he herds them all into the room where Flav awaits with nametags and markers. There is a twist for this season – the girls get to choose their own names. It’s Flav’s way of empowering them, yet throughout Flav really just ‘empowers’ himself whenever he doesn’t like what the girls have chosen.

Like there aren’t a bunch of 22 year old interns who randomly choose names during brainstorming sessions. I could offer some names; my friends and I have totally assigned Flav namez to each other.

Anyway, the names are as follows:

Sinceer. Ginormous forehead.

Bunz

Ice. She wanted to be called Vanilla; Flav liked Ice.

Bee-Ex. I can’t even tell you how she got this name, but she certainly didn’t choose it for herself.

Seezinz

El. Totally screwed on the name game here.

Prancer. She chose Vixen. I don’t see why Vixen couldn’t stick.

Tik. She likes the clocks. Flav declares, “She has the buns of a solar eclipse.”

Shy. Flav thought it was appropriate to call her something that she wasn’t. Riiight.

Oh, God. Twins. How? Why? Thing 1 & 2 are their names because someone loves “The Cat in the Hat.”

Q-Tee

St. Lewis

Hotlanta

Grayvee

Rayna

Dymz

Shore-Tee. Flav appropriately described her as having a large under bite. “She wasn’t sexy, but she was short.” Indeed.

Peechee. Also decidedly unsexy. She looks like Kathy Najimi and she’s from the Valley and totally out of place. I want her to stay.

Savanna

Myammee. Her forehead totally tops Sinceer’s. Sevenhead.

My spell check has miraculously not exploded.

The last four or five were chosen by the fans and Flav is clearly displeased with what came out of the internet. Not everyone can have an ass like Dymz. Get over it.

After the naming ceremony, everyone moves onto the mixer where Flav gets to learn about the girls behind the names (Namez?).

It’s pretty boring. Shy already needs to shut up. Vanilla Ice admits to being a radio personality in Detroit and totally ruined everything for herself by saying that she wasn’t sure why she was there. Dymz is studying criminal justice and Flav doesn’t want “fedz in the bedz” – so that’s another one who’s out.

Thing 1 & 2 say that they’ve never participated in a threesome. Good. Don’t start now, okay? Thanks.

Hotlanta and El share Flav time and I hope that they fight so that it will cut through the boredom. This was way more fun to watch the first two seasons.

There’s not fight and we then meet Bunz, who comes out all freak with her freakiness. Toys, girls, animals. I’m lying about animals. Toys are not a big deal, Bunz, get over your not so freaky self.

I’ve decided that Shy wants to be New York. Shut UP, Shy.

The ladies who aren’t with Flav start talking about knowing what they are getting into with Flav and ten kids and then everyone gets loud and I don’t know what’s going on.

I’m bored until Peechee and Savanna tag team Flav and squeeze onto the couch with him. No one has anything to say, they just smile stupidly at a flattened Flav. Prancer saves him from the atomic couch wedgie. Those two are definitely not staying around after tonight.

The girls keep touching Flav’s face and he HATES it. Like I think that he’s going to start smacking hands away and I hope that it happens so that I have something interesting to watch. Please move onto eliminations now.

Shy hates Bee-Ex and tells Flav about it in private. You’ve known her for eight minutes. Calm the eff down; you are NOT New York. Flav brings in Bee-Ex – apparently, this is all about how Bee- Ex doesn’t want kids but she has two sons at home. Did you follow that? If not, don’t worry, it really doesn’t matter.

Grayvee sums up the girls pretty neatly by calling them “Classless hoes.”

Elimination time! Flav descends the stairs looking clownish even for Flav. Is that a faux leopard cape? Did it come with the house? It matches the upstairs carpet; I think that it was the throw rug in his bedroom.

Since I have no attachment to anyone except for Valley Girl Peechee, I don’t care about who’s staying. You know that shit-stirring Shy had to stay because the producers said so. And of course the Twinz had to be kept around so that Flav could pretend that he’ll have another TV threesome (see season one with Hoopz and Pumkin in the shower. Or don’t. It’s gross).

The losers for the evening are:

Short-Tee and her massive under bite

Savanna

Q-Tee

Dymz (because of the criminal justice studies)

Peechee. Her real name is Crista and she’s okay with being eliminated because “God has a purpose for me.” And her name is Crista. I hope that her parents are named Mary and Joe.

Four of the five going home were the internet fan choices. The fans rock, I don’t care about what Flav wants. Peechee would have been awesome in that house.

This season, Flav is trying to step up the class and nothing says class like bringing your ladiez to the most romantical place. Meaning instead of shutting down KFC for a date, Bob’s Big Boy might get a visit. Oh, and “I will f*ck you up with these stretch marks” = “more class up in the crib.”

I have no early predictions. This is already a steaming mess.