I have to admit, I’m barely able to follow what the point of the Real Housewives of Beaverly Lakes is even about these days. I know they’re throwing a lot of parties and “teas” but other than that what are we actually working towards this season? Ah yes, I remember now. Russell’s untimely dirt nap. I’m sorry but it freaks me the F out every time the ghost of Russell appears in one of these crapisodes. This time around not only does seeing Russell make me grab my rosary beads for protection but it also makes me suffer from a little bout of secondhand embarrassment. I suffer from this because Taylor, her facia bruta, and Russell are having a therapy session together. And they’re filming it. At first I assumed it was just Taylor in attendance and that she and her therapist brought out the Ouija Board to see what Russell was up to, but then I remembered that this was filmed before, well, you know. What’s even more strange is that everyone in the therapy session eludes to Russell beating the lips off of Taylor with his tiny fists of fury, but they’ll never technically say it. They just keep saying, “You get angry” and “When you get angry, what ends up happening?” And Russell basically responds by saying, “…I end up yelling.” Yeah, and smashing faces into car doors because someone didn’t put a damn vegetable on the DiGiorno. It’s all creepy and I don’t like it one bit. Oh, and Russell keeps saying that nothing happened in their past that can’t easily be fixed…with surgical procedures, apparently. Plus, all these scenes kinda suck because I find myself saying in my head over and over again, “I know what happens. I know what ends up happening.” As a sidenote, you totally know Kennedy knows what’s going on because she never smiles. Ever. She always looks pissed off. Even at her random cowboy birthday party last week she looked pissed the whole time. Sad. Even a drunken diddler like American Idol Season 3 (5th kicked off) contestant, Ace Young, couldn’t get her to smile and he even wrote and performed her a song that he expected the crowd to know even though the song was being debuted at the ranch. See you on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew!
On a lighter note, Lisa Vanderfunk’s daughter, Pandora, is turning into The Brother’s Manzo for me and it makes me long for the days when the only Pandora I truly enjoyed was that damn black cat from the Brady Bunch. You know, the one that ran into that abandon house and Bobby went in after it because that annoying little girl was whining about losing her stupid cat and it ended up running into the fireplace (sadly not lit) and Bobby got all ash all over his white trash suit? Well, anyway, that Pandora. Moving on. We’re forced to watch scenes consisting of planning Pandorka’s wedding that will cost more than you and I will make in 5 years combined. Still feeling good about standing in that Black Friday line at Best Buy, trash boxes? This time around we get to see the invitations, which is a giant fake flower box with the invitation inside. Now that won’t be able to fit or stay on the front of me refrigerator, will it? Doubtful. Also, what a waste. You want to know what I do with wedding invitations when I get them? I open it, see who’s getting married, look at the date, keep the part where you fill out if you’re going, and immediately throw the rest away in the trash. I then depend on my friends to remind me where and when the actual wedding is. Later we get to see some random drunken bartender making drinks out of beakers and using bunsen burners like he’s Mr. Wizard. And Mr. Wizard he ain’t (ai-not). I think they end up freezing and then deep frying vodka, turning it into ice cream, and pouring it into a martini glass. Just like that they did at that wedding in Cana like it states in the Bible! Ole!
In “You Don’t Need Anymore Money” News, Adrienne is starting up her own shoe line, which is really quite the miss because she should be starting up her own hair tinsel line. Also, her hair shouldn’t be blond anymore. With the tan and the extensions she’s starting to look more and more like Beyonce. Either way, Adrienne is turning into a little elf and working away at blinged out shoes that anyone can afford. And by “anyone” she of course means “not you.” Adrienne claims she always dreamed of having her own shoe line ever since she was a little girl, which is ironic because I pass a homeless woman on my way to work every morning that always dreamed of having her own shoes. Period. So same/same? At first I thought these shoes would be sold at high end retailers on, like Rodeo Drive, but something tells me you’ll be shopping for these at Fayva by the end of the fiscal year. She’s even having a big fashion show that she’s throwing together at the last minute to show her support for some charity and debut her bedazzled kicks all at the same time. Adrienne can put together and entire shoe line and kick arse fashion show in about 10 minutes and She By Sheree took 2 years and looked like a 3rd graders school play. Just sayin’. Money can’t buy you class, but it can buy you everything else.
Speaking of hiring someone to show you sex acts (??), you know who I’m having a hard time understanding why they’re on the show? Brandi. I kind of like her because she’s like a truck driver in heat on the regular. But on the other hand what the hell is the point of her? I always assumed she was the token handicapped person, you know, like the kid in the wheelchair in the K-Mart Christmas catalogs? Brandi and Kyle are getting manicures together so that their man-hands can sparkle in the wind and they’re chit-chatting like strangers who hate each other because they’re filming a television show together and are contractually obligated to do so. Oh. Brandi wants to have all the “ladies” over to her beach house in Malibu where they can watch the sunset. Oh, and she also wants to invite her porn star friend to show them how to better perform better BJs on their husbands. Let’s take a second with that. The only person who’s getting blown in Adrienne’s house is, well, Adrienne. The same goes for Vanderfunk’s house. And I’m sure that consists of Ken and Giggy. You do the math. If Brandi really wanted to make a splash she’d invite a pregnant lady who was dilated to 10 over to her beach house so all the girls could look between her legs and squeal with delight when they see the ring of fire. As Paris Hilton who is irrelevant would still say, “That’s hot.”
The rest of the crapisode consists of Adrienne’s fashion show that’s taking place in her backyard. That makes it sound ghetto. Trust me, it wasn’t. It looks like what I can only imagine the Vanity Fair Oscar after-party looking like. Only with more money and space. Everyone is showing up to this fashion show because they claim they can’t wait to see Adrienne’s shoes. If I was invited I would walk directly into the house and then scatter and live in a corner of one of the rooms that Adrienne never goes in until the police are called 6 years later. I’d be like a drifter, but with class and charm. And when I say everyone shows up to this fashion show, I mean everyone. Russell is there. And what’s even stranger, they share a limo ride with Kyle and her husband and they even start talking about the fight with Camille at the tea-party. You know, the one where she tells everyone that Russell beats Taylor? Yeah, that party. In the limo they almost all laugh it off and pretend it isn’t true. Russell was even snickering saying he was there and doesn’t even know what Camille is talking about. Really? You may be dead, Russell, but you’re also a Pinocchio.
Adrienne’s fashion show for her shoes went off without a hitch, even though she basically had a melt down over which side the champagne would be served whilst she was giving her speech. I’m not sure why she commits to always looking like she’s going to the Junior Prom but, alas, she does. I have to admit, Adrienne is really starting to understand what it takes to get camera time on the Housewives series. The second that Lisa walks into the party she immediately pulls her aside to talk to her and tell her that she’s pissed off that Pandora’s bachelorette party in Vegas is being hosted by the dude who owns Planet Hollywood and not by Adrienne and her Palms hotel. I agree, that was a bad idea. I mean, who in the holy hell even knew that Planet Hollywood even existed anymore? What is Pandora and her blah friends going to spend three days eating Demi Moore’s Cap’n Crunch chicken salad and Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Electric Blue Lemonade vodka drink? Knowing those wet blankets, probably. I mean, if they were to stay at the Palms I’m sure every morning when they woke up they would have a head full of tinsel and a pocket full of hundreds and, well, what’s wrong with any of that. Poor Adrienne. Not literally, of course.
In the end, the fashion show wrapped up and we barely got to see Adrienne’s shoe line because the dumb models were wearing dressed that went all the way down to hell. It’s not like Adrienne really cared as she doesn’t need the money. She just wanted to have an actual fashion show in her backyard to prove to Vanderfunk that she could own her if she wanted to. Once again I must state that I would be fine with having actual intercourse with a room in Adrienne’s home. A room. Like the study.
Tune in next week when, apparently, Taylor cries again and has another breakdown! Maybe Ace Young can sing to make her feel better because, you know, any of that is relevant. Wanna give me money so that I can move in with Adrienne? Join me on my Facebook page!