Aaaahhh… Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. There comes a time in every recappers tenure when she is just beyond blown away by what appeared before them on the screen. And taking one's mother-in-law to Hustler and grinding on them has knocked me over.
Carlton Gebbia takes her hubby David along with her mother-in-law to Hustler to choose lingerie for her "playroom". Listen – I mean the storyline is gross as is, but you couldn't pick a classier place than Hustler?
Carlton is like thongs – no big – my mum-in-law has pulled babies out my vagina. Then she proceeds to educate MIL on what "DTF" means and huffs the F— word in the ladies face like she's going to vampire her. This is a preclude to the main event where Carlton puts on a teeny-tiny bikini and drops it like it's hot on her MIL's lap. Apparently her MIL accepts Carlton because David loves her. David needs inpatient therapy.
Yolanda Foster is planning a dinner party to honor HER KING. It's David-galore and all about David. I wonder what flowers David likes? Probably the ones that bloom in his presence – he is quite miraculous that way!
On the other side of town in a poor, sad subdivision where normal people who don't have houses built on a foundation of Grammy awards and or a fridge made of diamonds spun from the hair of virgin, albino Persian cats, Brandi is searching for her poor lost dog Chica. Awww… poor Chica. While Brandi annoys the bejesus out of me – and adding to that annoyance is the presence of Kyle in a pirate-themed Kaftan from Kylene By Too Many Kraptans – I totally understand the loss of a pet.
It was the first Real Housewives of Beverly Hills vacation last night and true to form it was like a game of Clue with whodunit and why, with what, where and WTF?
Last night's metaphorical Housewives slayer was none other than Brandi Glanville who could hold neither her alcohol or her tongue. Although she did start out by telling us all the things she likes to do with her tongue or have a tongue to do her when she conducted a little market research for her new book. Yep, sex, wine, and Brandi again… *yawn*
Over at Joyce Giraud's house she's preparing for Palm Springs with a fashion show. Joyce's closet is beautiful. And it houses the entire GoldenGirls wardrobe department archives, including several pair of reproduction hibiscus print culottes.
Ahhh… Real Housewives of Bevelry Hills: where totally untrue in every way cheating rumors never die. Oh! And famous people get to block traffic and redecorate the sidewalk just for being famous.
Over at Kyle Richards' Faye Resnick-fied castle of tchotchke, she's upset because she has to clean up alllllll the dog poop like every day, despite a plethora of brightly colored postage notes decorating the cabinetry advising people otherwise. Poor Kyle – nobody listens to her! Nobody cares! Nobody cares what Kyle wants!
And what does Kyle want? Attention and caftans. Preferably together. Since Kyle presumably has nothing else to talk about but cheating rumors that are totally NOT TRUE and that she totally wants to DISAPPEAR, she and Mauricio sit down to discuss said cheating rumors and how untrue and absolutely ludicrous they are.
"8th grade drama sounds the same 30 years later," Kyle tells Mauricio. You know it! Time for all y'all ladies to take a little Alice In Wonderland pill and grow the EFF up!
Things begin with Brandi and Carlton Gebbia shopping at Trashy Lingerie. Ahem. Brandi and Carlton verbally molest each other and gush about much they love beautiful women in an innuendo-laden crapfest. But neither of them are lesbians or something.
Brandi is buying lingerie for her non-relationship and wants to bury a crystal to evoke new love. How about bury the past? Not talking about your ex constantly might help welcome someone new into your life!
Last night on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills battle lines were drawn in the mythical sand using witches wands and Louboutins. Did I mention the witches were also wearing Louboutins, because yeah… Beverly Hills and all that.
So Brandi Glanville invites us all over to her bathroom to watch her take a bath while the editors blurred over her ladybits. Jennifer Gimenez stopped by because doesn't one always entertain while they're naked?! They talk boys; Brandi and JR's relationship isn't going anywhere and Jennifer thinks he needs dumping.
Brandi goes on a date with JR where she confronts him about not ordering a drink first and oh yeah – taking a couples trip to Texas without 1/2 of his coupling. That half being her! Apparently JR was with all his friends, who are couples, but he didn't want to bring Brandi.
JR is pretty unapologetic about the whole thing and it triggers Brandi's "trust issues" since in case you have been living in a black hole or on Mars and weren't aware, Brandi was cheated on you guys. She was like SO cheated on and like she needs to discuss it forever and ever and ever and ever because she apparently doesn't have anything else going on besides Botox and drinking.
Last night things were starting to settle in on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Everything that is except Carlton Gebbia who really cannot f–king deal with anyone and is over everything. Oh and Brandi Glanville's face – that's not settling either. She better watch it or she'll be turning into her arch-nemesis Adrienne Maloof!
Unfortunately the show began on a sour note. Poor Yolanda Foster is bravely taking us through her health journey battling Lyme Disease, which sounds horrible. I am seriously never going into the woods again. No, No, No!
Lemanda is undergoing surgery to remove a tube that sends antibiotics straight to her bloodstream and to celebrate she's doing a master cleanse instead of having a drink. I will never understand – pass me the alcohol! Gawd, do I sound like Brandi. #EpicFail. Even Yolanda's housekeeper is master cleansing and dividing all the lemonstrocity juice into a million Fuji bottles. Lemon does know how bad that is for the environment, right?
Last night was the season premiere of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Not much has changed since last season except for the fact that Lisa Vanderpump is being given the bitch edit. Or she's become a bitch? Or always was one? Whatever – things are odd so far!
Kyle Richards and Lisa spend the whole episode playing tit-for-tat and throwing shady covert digs at each other that are kind of diggy and kind of funny and definitely fake as the boobs in the ol' BH.
Things begin with Yolanda Foster chaperoning daughter GiGi's modeling shoot. GiGi is gorgeous and Yolanda could not be more proud. A fact she expresses by reminding GiGi that all the dieting and exercising has paid off. Yolanda is still rocking last season's outfit and the same set of natty extensions. You own a private plane – get better hair! I should cut the lady some slack, she has been battling lyme disease.
Not getting any slack from me is Kyle. Good ol' Splits! She's adding business woman to her resume because Kaftans Too For Me & You or whatever the H-E-Double-Hockeysticks her shop is called is now getting the attention of the Beverly Hills Chamber of Commerce. They want Kyle to join, presumably because the country club needs new robes and she has a bunch in stock.