Thursday, January 5, 2012

Travel, Tatas, and TSA Roofy Laws: The Housewives go to Hawaii!

Welcome back Housewife fans!  Happy New Year to you all.  I luuurved this episode.  It had drama, comedy, dolphins, and no Dana.  This is a long one so stay with me…
We begin with the conclusion of Kyle’s White Party, or what I would like to dramatically refer to as “The Aftermath.”  After Taylor and Russell are epically turned away at the door by not one, but six or seven people, the ladies retreat to some mysterious white room to talk about the whole thing while Taylor and Russell experience the most awkward ride in a limo ever. 
While the ladies discuss whether or not they believe Taylor, can help Taylor, or if Taylor can even be helped at all, Russell asks Taylor what she would like to do next because the night is young you know.
“We could be back in Vegas in like an hour…” he says nonchalantly.
Ummm, did you just get turned away from a party because you sent a threatening email, unbeknownst to your wife, to her friend who did nothing out of her legal limits by repeating abuse allegations that your wife shared with a group of five women?  Did that not just happen??  The look on Taylor’s face says it all.  It says, “You cray cray.”  Russell keeps repeating that Camille’s allegations are totally false while Taylor rolls her eyes and her lips in the seat next to him.  The whole thing is just SO awkward, made more awkward since we know what’s to come.
Cut to the ladies at the party in deep discussion and Kyle putting the kibosh on the sorrow soiree.
“I put way too much effort into this party to not enjoy it, and I’ve never told anyone that before because I am such a good friend.” –Gretchen Weiners
Out dances the mariachi band because Mmmauricio is Mexican now (the Lebanese band was booked clear through March) and Mmmm grabs Kyle for a fun swing around the dance floor.  Now everyone’s having a good time, except the Armstrongs, and the girl serving Fatburger. 
Dana tells Kim that Taylor got kicked out of the party.  Kim automatically assumes it has to do with drinking since that’s why she gets kicked out of places but Dana tells her she believes it has to do with legal reasons they are not yet privy to.  Oh the problems of rich people.  Kim says she’s just glad it’s not her this year.  I want that to be funny.  I really do.  But it’s just kind of sad.  Ok, it’s funny.
Oh the dance floor is really crack-a-lackin’ now.  All the white party people have forgotten about the debacle that occurred earlier in the evening.  Enough vodka sodas will do that to you.  Bravo’s editors give us one last picture of Taylor and Russell entering their home and shutting the door behind them, not revealing what went on that evening behind those massive closed doors.  There was no Vegas.  There was no fancy reprieve dinner.  Only closed doors and shattered dreams.  Meanwhile, back on the dance floor, Kim is getting down with her bad self, but where’s Spike??  Eating tree stars over in the corner, no doubt.  But wait, here he comes trudging along in his only fancy shirt, a white Ralph Lauren.  Kim grabs his scaly skin forcing him away from his tree star snack and pulls him to her.  Then they cut rug.  They cut rug so hard you guys.  Oh, when Kim and Spike hit the dance floor it’s their time, and they own it.
Alright, enough of the White Party.  Lisa and Ken come together in the closet room of their mansion.  Lisa’s slave girl Elva is helping her pack for their upcoming ‘Housewives Take On Hawaii’ trip in celebration on Mmmmmmauricio’s birth.  Poor Giggy can’t go on this one because they would throw that little guy in the infirmary so hard his little bald butt would never see the sun to scorch it again.  Oh but Hawaiian government, you should let him go- look at his tiny Tommy Bahama shirt!!  Mean Hawaiians, all worried about disease and epidemics, always thinking about themselves.  Anyway, it turns out Ken ran into Cedric, the world’s worst liar that everyone believes.  Apparently he is now a life coach for an interior designer to the stars.  Translation: He’s Jeff Lewis’s new dog-walker. 
Cut to Kyle’s closet which isn’t nearly as impressive.  She summons Mmmmauricio from his workout (that bitch) to help her find some luggage or something.  She needs to yakitty yak about how her forty-nine year old sister is bringing her live-in boyfriend to their Hawaiian getaway that Bravo is paying for.  So Kyle bitches about Kim, and we all zone out on a shirtless Mmmmmauricio (who has packed on a few lbs since last season but I’m not complaining).
Aloha, it’s Hawaii time folks!  One by one the women check in with Hawaiian airlines.  After check-in they congregate in the First Class Club Room.  But, wait!  Who’s missing?  Well Kim Richards of course.  Kyle calls to see where in the airport Kim is since they have only 45 minutes until take-off.  Kim answers her phone with, “My driver’s license is expired Kyle and I’m trying to find my passport!!!”  She’s obviously distraught, I mean who wouldn’t be.  She’s trying to find her passport, but where?  At check-in??  No no.  She’s a good forty-five minutes (an hour in traffic as we all know) away from LAX at home in the Valley somewhere, out where dinosaurs still roam so Spike feels comfortable.  But Kim says she’ll be there in a minute.  I’m beginning to think Kim has zero concept of time.  Did you like Brandi’s “I told you so” facial expressions throughout Kyle’s phone convo??  I did.
My favorite part had to be when Kyle snots out, “I thought you fixed your license Kim, since I asked you to come with me to DMV and you said you did,” and then Kim calmly yells (oxymoron I know, but it seriously applies), “WELL I LIED TO YOU.”  Insert Brandi “I told you that bitch was cray” eye roll.
OH YEAH, and Kim’s alarm didn’t go off that morning which is why she was late.  Again.  That poor alarm clock gets such a bad rap.  It goes off, just not loud enough to pierce through a Norco/Vodka induced slumber. 
OH sweet Camille-Jebus, not another therapy sesh.  Taylor and Dr. Sophie who is a real, legitimate doctor of thoughts and you’re about to find out why, met in his therapeutic office (complete with Restoration Hardware throw blanket on the patient’s chair) to discuss the demise of the Armstrong marriage.  Dr. Sophie brought up some excellent points.  Did Russell show any accountability for his actions?  No.  Did he apologize for ostracizing Taylor from her co-stars?  No.  Taylor has realized this since the limo ride.  Also, she read the harmless wittle email Russell sent which turned out to be as aggressive and threatening as Paul had said it was during the confrontation.  What I’m saying is Taylor is pretty much ready to take those giant lips of hers and kiss her lifestyle goodbye to save her child from this horrible situation.  She’s finally mad enough.  You want to know why??  Insider info:  After Russell started sending cray lawsuit emails to all the ladies, he also decided to send a few to Bravo’s producers, threatening that if they air any of the footage with talk of him being a wife-beater he would sue the pants off of them as well.  To this our fabulous Andy Cohen sent out a big fat “Fuck you” email in which Bravo basically told both Russell and Taylor to go pound sand.  Taylor, ever associated with Russell as his wife, would stop filming immediately and they would dump the couple quicker than you can say “grand larceny” or “fraud” or “Ike Turner”.  Well folks, you can bash Taylor’s eye into its socket and throw her against a $40K office desk, but try to take her off TV and she will call it quits.  And call it quits she did.  And so Bravo let Taylor back on TV and she got to write a book, and Russell committed suicide.  And there’s really nothing funny about that.

Back in First Class on Hawaiian Airlines (I’m so jeally btw, what was that champagne drink??) Kyle tries Kim one last time before take-off.  She’s on the next flight!  What?  She’s on the phone with Bette!  Who?  She’ll be there in a minute!  When?  That pretty much sums that up.
Apparently Kimmy’s gonna catch the next flight out with Spike at 6pm, which Paul Nassif just so happens to be on too.  Lucky Paul!  They’re getting ready to take off and Brandi shares that she’s a fearful flier and therefore loaded up on the Xanax this morning.  A girl after my own heart.  I like to be juuuuust drugged up enough to not give two shits if I die.  Like, if the plane was going down, I would think it was funny.  Because I always think the plane is going to go down.  Actually, Brandi’s my hero because I didn’t even think of roofying myself until she said that.  I guess TSA outlawed flying under a date rape drug??  I’m sure there are ways to get around that, and I intend to find them out.
Blah, blah, fly, fly.  Camille likes 8 inches of freedom, Kyle hates Kim’s new man even though she’s met him once, Brandi’s all kinds of doped up.  They get into Honolulu and now they are taking a private plane to Lanai.  Oh, it’s private alright, but it’s made out of Legos.  It’s a Tonka plane.  A wind up toy.  Holy shit.  There are not enough roofies on this planet that could get me to set foot on that plane.  I would rather swim and risk getting eaten by sharks.  Just watching it land makes me want to hurl. 
The bus ride to the Four Seasons from the landing strip was interesting.  Brandi was inappropriate, Kyle made shocked faces and we found out everyone who drives a red Ferrari is a douche bag, as if we didn’t already know that.
Once at the Four Seasons everyone settled into their rooms and freshened up for some cocktails on the lanai.  And the tatas come out to play.  First it was Camille’s boom booms which are ginormous and ready to play ball.  Then Brandi’s bubbies walked in (I luuuurved her dress btw) to play short stop.  Lisa’s cleavage then arrived to pitch, while Kyle’s and Adrienne’s sat on the sidelines and ate hot dogs.
There was some fun banter.  Lisa and Brandi had a playful back and forth about Brandi flirting with Ken.  Ken was gaga over Brandi which was funny, but only because we know he really luuurves Lisa the most.  Brandi said Spike looked like a bull mastiff which Kyle said was “rude”.  Hi kettle, it’s me, pot.  Kyle upholds the same rule about her sister as I hold with my Ken about everything:  I can say it, not you.
Paul arrives the next morning and tells Adrienne over breakfast that Kim will probably miss her connecting Tonka flight because she was in the bathroom from the time he got there to the time he left.  She was fixing her liquid eyeliner of course.

Brandi and Camille go down to the pool for a little R&R.  The pool guy practically falls in trying to escort them to their lounge chairs and for good reason.  Bow Chica Bow Wow, these ladies look good.  Brandi is wearing three tiny pieces of sand paper with angel hair pasta connecting them.  Camille’s bubbies are wearing a black bikini that is hot but bad for tan lines.  So Camille and Brandi are sunning themselves, making sweet, sweet love to the pool boy’s spritzer, and here come Ken and Lisa.  Everyone retreats to the beach where Mmmmauricio and Kyle are watching the dolphins jump and play without a care in the world.  Well, there’s one care.  Where the hell is Kim??

Lastly but not leastly, Lisa accepts a call from an unknown number who turns out to be Taylor who proceeds to inform them that her marriage is over.  Yep, done-zo.  Sayonara.  It’s been real, but not really.  We’ll get to see all the ladies’ reactions on that next week.
Alrighty, coming up on Housewives:  Fun in Hawaii until Kim and Mmmmauricio start fighting over pupus, and the catamaran leaves Kim and Spike because Spike will sink the whole damn thing.
Until next week my sweets!

**Addition: One of my fabulous readers pointed out that I did not mention the ladies eating Burger King breakfast in the First Class Club.  I did notice in fact; however, as I told her, I got frustrated trying to spell Cinnabon (sp?) and deleted the sentence.  But yeah, did you guys see that?  Housewives eat Burger King breakfast!  They threw it up on the airplane later.  The flight attendents in First Class hold your hair back for you.

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