Ugh – I am losing my patience for “Jax Taylor‘s show.” Jax needs to get off his high – very, very <snort, snort> high horse, and take Lisa Vanderpump‘s advice to “SHUT UP.” Lala Kent needs to come down with him. I do not need to see this jump off, with a face so inflated with fillers she looks like a balloon, tell anyone how to live. So are the days of Vanderpump Rules when the most awful people sanctimoniously judge others.
So much chaos in a zoom reunion. Even more so than in a regular old ‘on the stage’ reunion. The best though t’was Lisa chastising Andy Cohen for essentially showing up in his sweats. At the very least he could put on a low-cut satin blouse!
Jax and Tom Sandoval are rocking some serious facial hair. Is it like some sort of sign that they’re going to fight? Like they will start by throwing chairs at their computer screens, then throw the actual computers, then mutually run out their neighboring homes, race across the street and start brawling in the front lawn until they’re ticketed for breaking quarantine?
Well Below Deck Mediterranean is back, but literally nothing changed. Hannah Ferrier is still obnoxious and a terrible chief stew, Captain Sandy Yawn is overbearing and phony. OK – changed my mind. One thing has changed: Malia White is here again but this time she is a bosun who has no time for the boys. Malia actually didn’t annoy me this episode. So that has also changed.
The crew is setting sail in Mallorca Spain aboard The Wellington, the biggest yacht they’ve ever had, which means we have a 4-person deck crew, two of whom are rejects from Jersey Shore.
Captain Sandy is on my last nerve before Hannah has even stepped onto the boat. She is practically choking on her own words when she claims to truly believe Hannah is a hard worker who wants to do a good job, which is why she hired her back. See, no, this is BS that absolutely no one believes. I hate when reality television so infringes upon actual credible reality – why can’t Sandy just say Bravo made me hire Hannah.
I love Real Housewives Of New York. Also, I want to hang out with them. The FOMO is worse than ever with this whole quarantine thing and everything. I will drink 10 martinis and lose my mind with Leah McSweeney. I will tear down the genteel (only-in-delusion) Upper East Side establishment – starting with their flowers. I will burn Newport to the ground with a fire of toasted marshmallows and vodka. It will be great. Ramona Singer can take her wannabe elegance and stuff it like a lobster roll.
Anyway, Ramona has invited all the Real Housewives of New York ladies to beautiful and sophisticated Newport, RI where she’s attempting to refashion herself into some sort of elegant grand dame in the search of a wealthy husband. Pssst…. Turtle Time, that ship has sailed. Meanwhile, there is Tinsley Mortimer, whose family actually owns a house in Newport where they spend summers. They winter in Palm Beach.
See, this is why they hate Tinsley. It’s not her screeching, or the whining, or the Power Puff Girl makeup with plastic-y tears, it’s the access. The blue bloodstock that doesn’t come from marrying up, and won’t dry-up with divorce.
Last night the Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills went to Santa Barbara and all they did was fight. Here a fight, there a fight, everywhere a fight-fight!
Back when Kyle Richards believed anyone cared about the movie she filmed, or more specifically cared about the Saga of Kyle: These are the Kaftans of Our Lives, she invited all the ladies to Santa Barbara. It was really to celebrate the end of her bangs. Literally Kyle went to Santa Barbara and immediately started sweeping back the bangs.
Of course no one cares about Kyle unless they’re making her cry or trying to get her all worked up until Mauricio has to blow smoke – literally – up her ass. Everyone meets at Kyle’s house to make the long, arduous drive through the steep hills and rocky cliffs to a house perched on the side of a mountain in Santa Barbara where no one can hear them scream. Escape TO witch mountain. Or maybe Kyle can no longer separate horror film from horror reality?
Oh man, Real Housewives Of Atlanta season 12 has officially ended, and with it so many things we hold to be near and dear – like NeNe Leakes‘ dignity. Haaaa… just kidding. That got ripped off with a wig about 5 seasons ago!
NeNe never managed to return for the remainder of the reunion. Close your legs to married men; close your laptop to scary women! Eva Marcille predicts that NeNe was running scared after she learned her now-former friend Yovanna Momplaisir was secretly invited to the reunion and was coming with the good dirt. Yovanna accidentally spilled the tea by posting about it on Instagram. Not that NeNe wouldn’t have just ‘walked out‘ the second Yovanna appeared on the screen.
See, no good deed goes unpunished. NeNe was trying to promote her thirsty friend, Yovanna. However, these jump-offs always turn on their springboard. And the higher the heels the farther the fall!
This show … I just can’t get enough of Real Housewives Of New York! From Leah McSweeney instructing Tinsley Mortimer to go gangster – or “Cardi Llama” on Dorinda Medley; to Ramona Singer‘s condom situations, to the Russian baths with ginger vodka and Luann de Lesseps‘ bush coming back to haunt her. RHONY is the glimmer of unstoppable hope for Real Housewives everywhere. May you never change, no matter how far you stray uptown.
So on that note, Leah, Luann, and Tinsley are all sick after their day at the orchards. Well, I think we know where Coronavirus started! The Countesses’ cough. This is an unlikely trifecta for a brunch date, Luann is a surprisingly good foible for Leah and Tinsley. Also Luann looks phenomenal. She is literally aging backwards as she struts up to the table like someone told her the sidewalk was a cabaret stage. All the world’s a stage, darlings!
Tinsley is late, and when she arrives, she is distraught. Is Tinsley every any other way? Dale Mercer clearly didn’t warn Tinsley that her face would freeze this way, because it has.
There is a curious thing happening on Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills – The gaslighting of Kyle Richards. Also what is up with Teddi Mellencamp? Did fear of Lisa Rinna get her tongue?
First though I cannot even stop laughing at the ridiculousness of Dorit Kemsley with her Buca di Beppo dining room remodel and Dorit behaving as if she was asked to re-do Buckingham Palace.
It’s the best karma ever delivered to see Dorit and PeeeeKaaaay coming across like the grifting fools they are; all wide-eye and shining, believing Dorit is going to leverage a strip-mall dining room remodel into a career as the new Nick Alain. Of course they mentioned that Lisa Vanderpump would be threatened by them infringing on her territory by entering the restaurant business. Robert Earl, the owner of this erstwhile chain of phony Italian restaurants with their inflated prices and pretend ‘old country’ memorabilia, snarks that he’s sure the Vanderpump-Todds will wish them well.
Last night’s Vanderpump Rules finale truly felt like it was the end of an era. And I’m ready to send Jax Taylor off into the abyss, where surely he will go after yelling in Lisa Vanderpump‘s face that this is ‘his show’. Lisa has already endured that type of malarky with Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills so she’ll certainly not put up with it from underling upstarts living in Valley Village (ahem.. Brandi!)
Tom 1 and Tom 2, by compression, are now well on their way to being restaurant moguls after signing onto the expansion of Tom Tom. They are moving into adulthood (finally!), while Jax, don’t bother blessing his cold dead heart, isn’t moving at all. He’s trapped in a fishbowl of his own drool, constantly regurgitating his own nonsense.
Jax can pretend all he wants that he’s tired of Tom 1, but what Jax is really tired of is Tom 1 being successful. Tom and Jax came up together as bartenders at SUR. For most of Vanderpump Rules Jax’s drama has driven things; yet it is Tom who was given the nudge by Lisa.