Thursday, January 26, 2012

Four Wedding Scenes and A Funeral


Finally the finale!  Are you sad?  Happy?  Relieved? Disappointed?  All of those?  Me too.  Well, you already know that I freaking hate weddings.  I do, no pun intended.  So blogging this episode isn’t as fun as blogging about, say, Game Night or Sur Opening, but I’ll do it because I luuurve you all so much.  So let us begin…

Lisa’s nervous because she’s throwing a two hundred person party at her house and everyone’s trampling in and out with cakes and dresses and tents and flowers and elephants and shit.  But where’s Franc the Grasshopper Party Planner???  He’s mi-shee-sheeing in action.  His assistant who I would trust about a million times more than him just based on her lack of plastic surgery gone wrong was left to deal with Queen Vanderpump.  Lisa?  A control freak??  Nooooooo.  The workers are busy bees setting up and intertwining tiny love roses all over the damn place and it looks like Mary Kay’s bathroom exploded inside that tent. 

Ok I hate to talk crap about the bride on her day but it’s not her day anymore so fuuuukit.  I really can’t stand Pandora.  It’s more than the fake accent.  She’s just so goodie-goodie, no?  Does it seem phony to anyone else when she’s like, “Yes Mummy I luuurve you and everything is just pehhhfect and it will be just luuuurvely and I’m your favorite aren’t I?  Oh silly Mummy, I luuuuurve you.”  Barf.

Franc the Grasshopper shows up finally and offers Lisa a martini and everything is just shee shee shee again.  Lisa goes upstairs where Pandy’s getting ready with all her little minions and –oop!- they’re ready for make-up.  You guys.  How effing creepy were the triplet make-up artists???  That wasn’t even cool.  I’m going to have nightmares for weeks.  Lisa’s other child, the forgotten one, shows up.  He ought to be tarred and feathered too because his hair resembled Bret Michael’s when he was thirteen years old still playing in a garage.  It looked like a tiny blonde critter sat atop his head, but I for one thought he kind of rocked it.  Lisa didn’t agree with me, no she didn’t.  She told him twelve times in thirty seconds to cut it off right then and there.  One of the scary triplets will do it.  *Shudders*  This poor kid.  Today it’s the hair, yesterday the socks, day before the backpack.  Give the kid a break.  Just cause he’s the only one without a British accent everyone thinks it’s ok to pick on him.
Lisa’s too busy to listen to Ken’s speech for him.  “You’re writing a speech twenty minutes before our daughter’s getting married??  No no no, do it yourself,” she says with dismissal.  Ummm, he DID write it Dahhling, he just wanted you to listen to it.  She barely even has time to give input on Giggy’s outfit, but she does do that. 

Pandy’s make-up and hair are done and she looks like a cherub.  Doesn’t she?  She looks like she should be striking guests with tiny arrows that create little clouds of bitty hearts upon contact.  Lisa’s wearing a tiara and an old pageant dress.  Interesting choices I must say.  Apparently Pandy asked her to wear a tiara (I am really suspicious of this claim btw) and Lisa would wear knickers on her head if she asked her to because she’s the golden cherub child.  Even Rosia the closet slave got to dress up for this, though Lisa did not approve of her shoe choice.  But she did request that Rosia dress that way every day while she’s picking out Lisa’s future outfits and dressing Giggy in velvet and silk.
Meanwhile, across the street at the Maloof’s Manseeon, Camille-Jebus confesses she just luuurves the way of the Jews and would possibly convert someday.  Camille-Jebus, you ARE Jewish, remember?  Silly Camille-Jebus.
A couple more things on the wedding:  The minister’s face was blurred out which I found disruptive to my viewing.  This wedding is for my entertainment, is it not?  Also, ladies out there:  If your cup size is larger than a small C then strapless is NOT for you. 
Party, party, party…booshit, booshit, booshit.
Oh man, Pandy is a TERRIBLE dancer!  Did you see that??  Yikes.  Speeches….yawwwwwwwn.  Weddings are the pits.  And color me cynical but that song was not worth a million dollars, I could have written that song:
“I woke up in the morning, and I saw your face. Doo bee doo bee dooo…” 
I did like the sparklers at the end though, I’ll give ‘em that.  That’s the end of my wedding talk, I’m moving on to the good stuff.  Well, the better stuff anyway, this episode kind of sucked.

Rewind a bit:  Camille is picking out what she’s going to wear with her Friendly Giant.  No pink for Camille, she doesn’t want to upstage Lisa on her big –I MEAN- Pandy’s big day.  Camille-Jebus has turned her water situation into a wine situation by dating a younger Greek man with a wash board stomach, a talent for cooking, and a heterosexual sex drive that Camille has long-since forgotten how to work with.  She found her eight inches of freedom, and then three more of willing captivity.  Stella’s got her groove back.
In what was a clear winner as the best scene in this episode and what may be one of the best scenes in Real Housewife history, Paul Nassif gets a colonoscopy on our television sets.  I was telling my mom, Vintage Barbie, about this scene and we had to laugh because apparently they don’t do colonoscopies to scope out the sitch down there anymore.  I won’t tell you what they do, but it’s far less invasive, I’ll say that.  Ok so Adrienne, being the hands-on type woman she is, goes to the doctor’s with Paul and opts to wait in the waiting room.  Paul calls her in to help him WITH HIS ENEMA.  I’ve never seen Adrienne move so quickly as she did to get OUT of that room.  Adrienne took vows, but not the enema vow.  They put Paul under so they can…well…you know.  It’s pretty personal stuff but I admire his desire to raise awareness for a procedure they no longer do.  When Paul comes out of the prodding room, he’s wheeled into a recovery corner.  Adrienne comes in to check on him and the following occurs:
Evidently, when you have a colonoscopy they pump air up your [I’ll say the “F” word at the drop of a chapstick tube but I struggle with typing the word “butthole”].  So then, naturally the air must come out.  They failed to mention this to dear, sweet Paul when he agreed to have his colonoscopy taped.  So as he’s laying in recovery, he realizes that air is escaping out and he can do nothing about it.  The following comments are made by Paul in his half-conscious state (I laughed until I cried btw, because I’m sooo mature):

“Ohhh nooo I think I need to *pooof* and I need to *poooof*…it’s air it’s not gas…*poooof*oh my God noooo *pooof* It’s not fair….*poooooooof* noooooo *pooof* …Adrienne noooo it’s not fair I can’t stop it…*pooooof*"
This is the only scene in Housewives history that my father would have enjoyed.
Let’s switch gears from funny to depressing.  Three weeks after the wedding Kyle throws a…party (?) to get the women together after Russell’s passing.  It’s catered so it’s a fancy after-death discussion party.  Camille shows pictures of her new man’s stomach (heyy-oooo), Lisa shows pictures of the gawddamn wedding (give it a rest woman, we were all there!) and Kim is missing because -oop!- she’s in rehab.  Taylor looks better than she did all season with some color in her cheeks and some meat on her bones.  They all gab and nothing about Russell’s death is really said that I could remember which I found…odd.  Apparently they delve into it on the THREE part reunion which I am soooooooo looking forward to by the way.
So at the end of the season as you know, we get the little write-up on what the ladies are doing, a little epilogue, if you will.  They were as follows:
Taylor:  Writing a book about her abusive marriage which she dragged onto national TV arguably contributing to the breaking point that led to her estranged husband’s suicide.
Kyle:  Wrote an advice book for women where she apparently tells you it’s ok to cheat on your spouse, if it’s just once and you don’t tell your spouse.  Sounds like sound advice Kyle.
Adrienne:  Her shoe line is successful and Paul has a healthy colon.
Lisa:  Downsized her house then renovated the shit out of it adding two hundred million square feet to it or some bloody thing like that.
Camille: Enjoying sex with a man who likes women.  Eat your heart out Frasier, you old queen.
Kim:  SURPRISE!  Not pregnant and in rehab.
Best Quote of the Season Award goes to Taylor for:  “If you can’t be my friend then just please don’t be my enemy”
Worst Wardrobe Choice Award goes to Kim for the Christmas present blouse that tried to eat her face off.
Taylor and Kim tied for Most Cray.
Bravo, just FYI, I did notice that you threw a couple PSAs about suicide in the commercial breaks in the first two episodes and then hoped we’d all forgotten it had happened.
Well kiddos, that finale was a bit disappointing, but the SUR opening made up for it last week so I’ll forgive you Andy, you little minx you.  Coming up- THREE PART REUNION and it’s going to be amaaaaazing so shake your martini, get a good spot on the couch and enjoy our favorite guilty pleasure we call the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.  Jerry Springer’s got nothing on the betches.
Until next week my luuurves!
XO,
Barbs

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