I’m pretty sure it’s time to end the season. Here’s why. When a lunch meeting is being set up between Joyce, Carlton, and Carlton’s tucked ding-ding to discuss possible spells and other witchcraft that may or may not have been used on Joyce’s husband the previous night…you know it’s time to throw in the towel. At this point I’ll trade 1 Carlton for 1 Jill Zarin and I’ll also trade one Joyce for 3/4ths of Kim Zolciak’s season 1 wig. I’m talking just simply drape that over a broomstick and give it a tag line during the opening credits. Anything is better than what we’re being forced to watch. Oh. We’re not being forced to watch this? Well that changes everything and nothing at the same time.
You gotta love the look of absolute disgust that comes over Carlton’s face any time Joyce speaks. Even when Joyce is simply ordering from the menu Carlton looks like she’s about to induce vomiting. As an important side note, how much of a biker chick is Carlton, overall? It’s like she got into her 1987 45 minute tanning bed, then jumped directly into her shower, then sprayed herself with a special witch potion (most likely a combo between Exclamation and Red Door), then just brushed her wet tangled hair with a horse brush until it was mostly dry, and then got onto a Harley where she reenacts that Kayne West/Kim Kardashian video with her nanny. Phew! I’m out of breath with that but that’s basically how I envision her getting ready for her day.
Meanwhile Brandi is busy at a photo shoot for her new book that she’s just “written” about relationship advice. Seems fitting. This, my friends, is the west coast version of writing an Italian cook book with recipes you know nothing about. So, same/same. Since this is a relationship book it only made sense for Brandi to be holding up props like a frying pan, dough roller and wearing yellow cleaning gloves. Evidently the theme was the 1950’s and I’m sure no one has seen anything like this before. All of this was put to stop when her “editor” who was carrying around a dog demanded that she wear a pink dress and basically just stick her fingers in her mouth. After the photographer in the short shorts, sweat-stained-tank-top, and creepy mustache finally agreed to play by her yellow-toothed-rules, the cover of the book came out amazing. I have no clue. All I was focusing on was how if I ever had to talk to my kids about child molestation I would show them flash cards with this guys entire face and body on them. Because, remember kids, only bad people look creepy. Plus, it’s half your fault for trying to turn them on. There. I just saved you years worth of therapy.
Sadly, Kim is only in about 2 minutes of this episode which basically makes the entire show a bust. She and her daughter are getting butterflies tattooed on their wrists. At the least I’m hoping this is the beginning to Kim’s cutting addiction. Just trade one for another. I joke. I wish her love and light. On the real, Kim always tells her kids that when she’s dead one day (and doesn’t come back a crispy zombie) that every time they see a butterfly they’ll know it’s her looking down on them. That’s sweet. I would have assumed every time they saw a homeless woman washing her face with Zima in the public fountain they would think of Kim. Different strokes for different folks. See what I did there?
I firmly believe David Foster married Yolanda to get closer to Gigi.
The rest of the episode mainly consisted of the “big party” that Lisa and Kyle are throwing for their husbands birthday. Ken is about 1 more year away from landing his face on a Smuckers jar and being saluted by Willard Scott. Of course Lisa “hired” Mr Miagi’s gay lover to plan this whole thing and, to no surprise, Kyle is not having it. She wants simple things like popcorn and glittered brushes so party guests can each take turns brushing her hair. The funny part to me is that they’ve decided to make this a very intimate gathering…yet they invite Carlton and her husband. Where are their real friends? Why wasn’t I invited. I’d take a bullet for Vanderpump and I think that her overlooking me on the invite list is rude and uncalled for. At least I can still take steak.
Kevin Lee and his wig pulled out all the stops and even hired girls to apparently dance in the pool. I have no idea. They may have been drunk. Hell, I may have been drunk. I was shocked that Carlton didn’t cannonball into the pool and start motorboating immediately. That is great restraint. The dancing pools girls were a mess. I have no idea why they were there. When I throw a party you wanna know who I invite to entertain the guests? Sam Adams. Moving on…Lisa is dressed up like she’s chaperoning Pandy-Pants’ junior prom, but is kind enough to allow her maid/slave to temporarily wear her crown, but she needs to be sure to remove that crown at mid-night or Lisa and Ken will release the dogs on her and taser her to the ground until that odd hairy arm mole falls right off her. As a side note, the maid got her hair inspiration clearly from Kyle.
Overall the dinner party was quite the snooze, that is, until Kyle started to speak to Carlton and Carlton went off the rails. Carlton is STILL crying about Kyle thinking her tattoo was the Jewish star. I mean who the hell cares?! I went to Catholic school from when I was 5 until I was 21 and I can barely identify a cross. When Kyle asks Carlton to listen to her for a second Carlton (in that horrific accent) says, “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare command me!” I mean, that’s a lot of misplaced energy, no? I can appreciate Carlton realizing that the season is coming to a close and she better get into some dinner party fights so she’s brought back for next season, but this one was a reach. And her husband, tv’s own Lou Ferrigno, tries to chime in about what a wonderful person Carlton really is. Somehow this pointless argument went from “you’re rude and nasty” to Kyle calling Carlton antisemitic. Carlton couldn’t take any more of this and grabbed her ding-a-ling and left with tv’s own Lou Ferrigno. Lisa tried to talk Carlton’s penis into staying, but was unsuccessful. You could actually see the moment when Lisa didn’t give a sh*t that Carlton was even on this show anymore.
Special shout out to my sister who regularly texts me messages from Carlton (using the accent) and saying, “I luv the fe-male bod-ee.” Bravo. Literally.
