Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Treatments, not Truces
We’re back again friends to discuss the happenings, the going-ons of the blinged out broads of Beverly Hills. I have a lot to say about this episode so let’s get started…
We open with Lisa strolling across the street to assist her neighbor Adrienne in Cooking 101. Lisa is going to help Queen Maloof build a bird, yes that’s right folks, they’re going to get cray and cook a chicken. Julia Childs would be so proud. The best part of the entire scene was how Adrienne’s regular private chef Bernie was giving Lisa death stares from around the corner during the entire lesson. Bernie HATES Lisa, and her little dog too. The whole time he was thinking, “Why wouldn’t Adrienne want me to teach her how to cook a chicken?? I’m professionally trained in chicken cooking, I cook all of her chickens, and the British can’t even cook chicken!” Oh Bernie, crawl back around the corner, it is not your moment…yet.
After we see Adrienne wash her chicken with soap and water and stand him up like a headless cartoon in the baking pan, it’s fair to say that she will probably stick with Mad-Dog Bernie as the family chef. I think it’s a good idea since she mentioned several times she has contracted salmonella in the past from her own chicken.
Dana and Kyle meet at Taylor’s house for a play date with the kids. Of course they’re contractually obligated to discuss the now infamous Game Night while their innocent children color on the table. No, not on paper on the table, just on the table. They don’t need paper in Beverly Hills, they just buy a new damn table.
Kyle asks the ladies, “How do you come up with crystal meth?” I’ll tell you Kyle. Your sister was definitely hopped up on uppers of some sort. Brandi seemingly has knowledge on uppers, and went straight to crystal meth. This would not have been my strategy. If I were Brandi it would have come out as, “Your sister’s snorted enough coke tonight to kill Charlie Sheen!!” or “Your sister’s consumed enough Adderall in there to choke a donkey!!” but only because I watch “Intervention” on A&E enough to know that if Kim was on meth she would have a better complexion. I’m sorry, that was so mean. I was going to say that if Kim was on meth she would be as paranoid as Lindsay Lohan during a court ordered drug test. She would have thought the random unnecessary bartender was vice (he may have been) and the drivers in the limos outside were waiting to take her to the place with the white padded walls. No no no. Kim wasn’t methed out. She was something’d out, but she wasn’t methed out. But I’m going to say again that Kyle denying she’s ever even heard of meth is highly suspect. And Kim was definitely on something so Brandi’s point, though slightly off-based, was at best valid and at worst arguable.
Can we talk about Brandi saying “I will f***ing kill you?” Yes Kyle, let’s talk about that. If one word about my Chihuahua escaped your quippy little mouth that night I would have killed you. Had you said, “Well at least my sister doesn’t pee on the grass like your little dog!” I would have flown across that hideous table and you’d be wearing all of those full glasses of bubbly. So though I’m not taking sides here, you’re lucky you weren’t killed. And I think that’s only due to the woman having only the one good leg.
Taylor, ever the surface diplomat/closet shit-stirrer, does give a perspective of Brandi not yet explored by Kyle. The day she made that nasty comment to Dana about her fiancée having a woman in every city, the same day that she said the word COCK and didn’t shoot to kill when her four-year-old dropped trou’ at a kids pool party, was the SAME DAY her ex-husband was getting married to his side-piece. Oh, and the same dude is giving her shit about her parenting lately so she’s a bit sensitive. Kyle does acknowledge that maybe she could stand to give her a little slack. We soon see if she does… (she doesn’t)…
Let’s change the pace a little. Let’s take in a deep breath, let it all out, and do a little transcendental meditation shall we? It’s Tuesday after all. Let’s close our eyes and imagine that we live in Mohammad’s mansion. Yes, close them and picture yourself walking through the hallways like you live at the Met. Picture for a moment that your mansion has special secret mansion rooms with giant beds in them “just in case”. Now picture for a moment that your girlfriend is a Victoria Secret model half your age (girls, you too) who wears evening gowns every day and follows you around in case your Cialis kicks in and you have a need for one of those secret beds. Ah yes, welcome to Mohammad’s home, a modest 60,000 square foot cottage where dreams come true and the floors are actually made of gold. Mohammad is going to throw a modest little engagement vanderparty for Lisa’s daughter Pandora (who I’ve heard from a reliable source is faking her British accent) with just a few amenities; camels, belly dancers, secret rooms, no biggie. Ah yes, it will be an Arabian Nights theme, because isn’t that just the sexiest? There’s nothing sexier than a camel, I’ll tell you that right now (it’s the spitting that does it for me).
Onto a much more modest setting: The Maloof/Nassif mansion, where Adrienne is preparing to host a Spa Day Event for her lovely lovelies. You guys, I would seriously give both of my plastic, perfectly sculpted legs to be at this party. Here’s Bernie’s moment, back where he belongs, making tiny delectable treats dusted with edible gold powder (be still my heart) and other fancy finger foods. Kyle wondered aloud where the edible diamonds are…they’re at Mohammad’s. Adrienne spouted off that she has hired two “nestiticians,” three masseuses, and a stream of other help that can work a mean face-laser while knocking back the champs.
***Sidenote: I would literally kill someone to have a spray tan booth in my house so watch out Kyle, I told you it doesn’t take much.
The ladies enter one by one. They change into robes and adorable wedge slippers for the day of rest and relaxation. Four hours later, in bee-bops Kim, geetered as ever, never knowing what time any party ever starts.
“They must have given me the wrong time for the party…or else my Mickey Mouse watch stopped working back in 1988…or maybe it’s because coke always makes me lose my sense of time…or that mysterious power outage that keeps plaguing me…bouncy bouncy bouncy…”
Oh Kim. Come down from Witch Mountain, it’s good down here.
Alrighty so Kim comes in and Kyle’s like, shit, because now she has to pay full-on attention to her cray-ass sister. I do feel bad for Kyle in this regard. You can tell she gets so nervous and frazzled when Kim comes in. She clearly feels responsible for the jibberings and the willy nillies and gets embarrassed by her. Kim takes a good look at all the amazing spa treatments that Adrienne is offering and says, “Let’s go bouncy on the trampoline!!” and so Kyle of course has to go with her to make sure she doesn’t bounce so hard that her heart bursts, having nothing to do with the ephedrine pumping through Kim’s visible blood veins of course. Kyle’s a bit apprehensive as her bladder’s just not been the same since birthing Portia but at this point she will support her sister in all she does and says blindly because after last season’s limo fiasco, she’s got some major kiss-assing to do.
Ok so Kim just luuuuuuuuuurves to bounce. She describes her love for bouncing in her one-on-one interview where she’s wearing a wedding present. The bow is trying to eat her and I’m scared. I think Kim is making every effort to have a childhood in her late forties, bless her heart. Wearing silly frillies and jumping and giggling and making no sense, and shaking and using the bathroom thirty times in two hours (if it ain’t drugs, it must be potty training). Just being young, or trying her best anyway.
At some point, Brandi has arrived in an ADORABLE pink romper. I want this romper folks. Ok so Brandi decides to get some treatments done that require her to not mingle because she’d rather “break her other leg” than hang out with these women again. While she’s hiding under the laser, Adrienne tries to convince her to apologize to Kyle and Kim. Brandi says she’s not comfortable apologizing to Kim
because she’s cray because she hardly knows her. She says she’s pretty sure Kim doesn’t even know what went down, and she’s right.
Cut to Kyle doing the VERY SAME THING she did at Game Night. She goes over to Kim who’s getting a nice, relaxing massage, and says, “Brandi’s here, did you see Brandi? OMG Brandi’s here, did you see her??” and Kim’s like, “I don’t even want to acknowledge someone who I can’t remember why I don’t like or recall the precise day in which I ever even met them…but…I was defending you and she was mean!” Ummm….I think it was actually Kyle who was defending Kim. Yeah, pretty sure that’s what it was. But that’s ok.
Kim rejects even the thought of hearing Brandi out but Kyle’s interested in what she has to say. This works out because Brandi’s finally been convinced by the peanut gallery that now is a great time to hash this all out so she’s going to apologize to Kyle.
Here’s where I think this goes a bit downhill. Brandi and Taylor are sitting outside together and Kyle saunters up, gifting them with her esteemed presence. Taylor awkwardly asks if she would like to sit down or stand. Kyle never even acknowledges Brandi, which is the point at which if I were Brandi I would have gotten up and crutched away. Here come Adrienne, and Lisa and eventually at some point Camille and Pam. The cast is standing square on their marks.
Brandi actually gives an apology that I could really get behind. I know it sounds like I’m siding with Brandi, but you guys, seriously. I’m actually an expert on apologies, as a communications major with a B.A. in communications (Communication BarbieTM) but it’s no big deal, no applause needed. What was I talking about again?
Oh yeah. Brandi says, “Look, my trigger is my kids and yours is obviously your sister, and I’m sorry I completely lost it on you both.” Ok, as apologies go, that one was actually pretty good. She took responsibility for her actions as well as tried to show she understood Kyle’s perspective in relation to her sister. Kyle could have responded with, “Well thank you, I appreciate that.” BUT NO. She instead opted to list the rules and regulations which will allow them to be cordial in the future (“Don’t ever talk about my sister again”) and defended her position in PottyGate (“I was attacking your parenting on an isolated incident NOT your parenting as a whole, gawwwd”) and then all the other women jumped in including Adrienne and Lisa who were not even there to say that Brandi should just suck it up and take it all in in front of all of them. And while she’s at it, stop her damn fake belly-aching and put the crocodile tears back in her handbag.
I wanted to jump through the TV and protect Brandi Mufasa-style when he protects Simba from all the hyenas at the elephant graveyard. Again you guys, I’m not siding with Brandi. This is basic maternal instinct kicking in. The woman was crying, she was surrounded, clearly defeated, only had one good leg. Someone get Brandi the hell out of this Spa Day paradise!!
Meanwhile, back in Crazytown, Kim is mad at Kyle for even hearing Brandi out. She thinks she was just protecting Kyle and Kyle is not being loyal. What party were you at Kim? I want to see Kim’s inside-head version of this story. Needless to say, Kim and Brandi didn’t kiss and make up and gab about boys and movies in their PJs while munching on popcorn that evening. Adrienne said goodbye to Brandi privately in her bedroom before Brandi hobbled out the door still in silent tears while the Witchard sisters whispered and Lisa noted in that famous British sarcastic tone that she hoped the door didn’t hit her on the way out.
Wow, I’m so pissed you guys. This was supposed to be a relaxing evening of me living vicariously through these freakin’ chicks so that I could attend and enjoy what is sure to be the only in-home Spa Relaxation Paradise Massage Laser Botox Day party that I will ever get to attend. But no. Instead I’m sitting here having to feel sorry for Brandi, being icked out by Mohammad, and worrying about whether or not Kim’s wedding present blouse bow is going to eat her face! This was not relaxing at all.
Next week we have Pandora’s Arabian Nights engagement party complete with dancers, snakes, camels, and their toes. We also find out that Kim has a new drug dealer -I MEAN- boyfriend that we get to meet which as you know is totally cray.
I’m deciding whether or not to blog on Atlanta. Let me know if you have opinions on the matter/watch Atlanta/think Phaedra is cray. Until next week my pets…same time, same place.