Last night on Vanderpump Rules the battle for Stassi Schroeder's corroded heart continued. And it involved men brawling in the parking lot, thrown drinks, and lots of tears. Was I the only one laughing?
So Stassi is corralling her two best friends Kristen Doute and Katie Maloney (who finally got some airtime this week!) to go to Vegas for her 24th birthday. It's a tradition that every year on the eve of the most illustrious birthday of the year – almost more important that Baby Jesus' – Stassi begins her annual trek to the holy land. The mecca of debauchery, inappropriately abused sequins, and liquid splendor. And all hail queen Stassi of the golden hair and orange tan cause she is the chosen one. That's what she tells herself anyway. I'm still surprised she can find two people willing to vacation with her.
Apparently Stassi has A-List friends and B-List friends, all of whom are employees at Sur per her contract with Bravo and first she invites the A-Listers so they can be sure to waste their vacation days on her and get off work. Then when she's positive the B-Listers won't be able to score time off she pity invites them and then laughs when they feel bad declining. More champagne for her!
What say we about Vanderpump Rules except that these girls are seriously a mess. How any of them can possibly have boyfriends is a straight-up mystery to me.
Taking a break from Stassi Schroeder's ridiculous Jax Taylor entanglement – albeit a brief six second break – we are treated to the terminally insecure and immature Kristen Doute on a girlfriend tantrum bender.
Apparently everyone in LA is a part-time Sur employee and a maybe model/maybe hooker and they often live together and hook up. And sometimes when six degrees of Sur happens they run into each other at amateur staged for Bravo TV modeling shoots. Such would be the case with Kristen and boyfriend/concealer lover/musician/maybe hooker bedding Tom Sandoval.
Being Jax Taylor is a difficult thing. Being Jax Taylor means swatting away desperate hoards of single women grasping at you like vampires fighting over a corpse. Being Jax Taylor means everyone wants to get you drunk and force you to attend parties with them. Being Jax Taylor means all the guys idolize you. And being Jax Taylor means you are dating Stassi Schroeder which is a whole separate problem of its own. But at least she's hot and lets you crash at her place for free, right?!
Last night on Vanderpump Rules, Jax learned that if he doesn't want to buy his own TV and get his own place, he better listen to MamaStassi and grow up or sleeping in his car won't be a choice, it will be a lifestyle. Apparently grown ups aren't male models, either. Hasn't Stassi seen Zoolander? #BlueSteel
At 33, Jax is a former big thing in the world of male modeling but as he is no longer quite so young and pretty he's become kind of a small thing. However he doesn't seem bothered by this and seems content to sling drinks at Sur. Jax admits it's impossible to grow up when you're him and suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome. Which doesn't sit well with his ever-patient, ever-loving Swedish Princess Stassi. Poor Jax – I mean it's hard to be dumb as a box of rocks and have a gasoline fight with your fellow male model friends while the camera rolls and the Le Tigre pout schmoozes the lens.
Let's discuss Vanderpump Rules, shall we. Or should I say The Stassi Schroeder Is Mean hour? Oh Stassi – she's such an angry little thing, isn't she. Vanderpump Rules is the tale of two delusional girls and their aspirations being far bigger than their aptitude. First up is Staaaaaasi, or queen of the blue micro minis.
Everyone's favorite descendent of a Swedish princess moved out to LA with the promise of stardom in her eyes. I mean after all , Stassi is like a 20th removed royal so naturally that should mean she'd arrive in Hollywood, announce: "Here I am!" and she'd be shoving Angelina Jolie off her pedestal, right? Unfortunately things didn't' work out that way.
Someone ought to tell Staaaaaaaaaasi that Swedish princess don't sling drinks – and they probably wear bras to work. I could be wrong as I'm only descendent of Scottish princesses and we always wear undergarments.