Oh sheesh, after serial dating everyone else on the cast to see who sticks (aka who will even pretend to put up with them), Dayna Kathan and Brett Caprioni are finally getting their moment on Vanderpump Rules.
And then there is Stassi Schroeder literally begging Beau Clark for a ring. Isn’t this a pattern for her to demand these men want to commit on her terms? Just like it’s a pattern for Scheana Marie to fake BFF every guy under 30 who she meets at SUR, writing his initials in puffy paint circled by a heart on all her most favorite sweatshirts. Doodling SM + ANYONE WHO WILL LOVE ME AND MY PRACTICALLY BARREN GERIATRIC WOMB. Anyway, where is Lala Kent to point out Stassi’s flaws? Good thing we’re here to do that instead.
Seriously Scheana may not be able to land a date, but she’s certainly able to launch the would-be careers of previously no-name SURvers. Maybe she should finally give up waitressing to go work with Beau in central casting? (Not kidding!)
Things are happening on Vanderpump Rules. Dramatic things! Jax Taylor turned 40. We do not need to celebrate any more milestones for him though. Raquel Leviss is suddenly finding herself included in things. I can’t tell if that’s because Kristen Doute is finally finding herself EXcluded for not making Carter her official ex, or if it’s because Lala Kent wants to eviscerate Raquel in public. Or because James Kennedy has finally sobered up and everyone wants to experience the potential shit-show that is Sober James?
Lisa Vanderpump meets Ariana Madix for a little horseplay. Lisa has taught her horse to talk, likes to make-out with him, and can conjure his wiener on demand. Lisa is one step away from Carole Baskin, and Ken better watch out before he finds himself fed to a pen full of tiny ponies. You know Lisa’s next wedding will feature a slavish weirdo wearing a pink tasseled horse saddle while she holds him by the literal reigns.
(Please watch Tiger King. I will be recapping a couple episodes, and we need to discuss.)
We celebrated Tom Sandoval‘s birthday on last night’s Vanderpump Rules and the theme was being extra. As if this group even has to try! Hey, at least it wasn’t more wedding nonsense.
Ugh – every time I reach a place where I kinda like Lala Kent, she goes and acts like a horrific ego-consuming monster whose such a bitch that I’m right back to wanting to smash cupcakes in her face. Super fattening, gluten-y, sugary cupcakes. Lala is a wench. A worse wench than Stassi Schroeder ever was in her Stasstrocious heyday. Lala is Jax Taylor bad. She’s also a dry drunk. Someone who has treated the symptom, not the disease. Lala reminds me of Kim Richards, formerly of Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills, now of never-to-be-published salacious memoir because Kyle Richards will tie your ass up in cord for ad infinitum. Which is also how long it will take Lala to realize that she’s a horrible human being who is still secretly in love with James Kennedy.
Anyway, these are my preliminary thoughts on last night’s Vanderpump Rules.
Jax Taylor finally got married on last night’s Vanderpump Rules, metamorphosing from Jax to Jason. Even so Tom Sandoval was the true knight in shining armor. Tom had tampons, tissues, White Claw, vodka, an endless supply of giving and support. What did Jax have besides patchy sideburns and a mistaken understanding that getting married does not allow one legal ownership over your spouses breast implants.
Although how fantastic would it be if Brittany Cartwright threw the removed implants on the table at their inevitable divorce trial?! Which from the mid-season preview seems like it’s coming sooner rather than later. The shelf life of an implant is what – max, 10 years? The shelf life of a marriage to Jax Taylor has to be more like 2.2 years. Maybe 2.4 if there’s an extended separation. And probably more like 1.4 if Vanderpump Rules cameras turn off. Marriage Bootcamp only films for 5 weeks.
Anyhoodle, yes, Jax and Brittany finally finally finally made it down the aisle in the unrelenting sun of a Kentucky summer, leaving their guests to wilt and melt in 96 degree weather without any shade. Except for Tom 1 running around holding out parasols. Add that to his list of positives! After all this Jax only gives Tom 1 a B- or C in the best man performance grade.
Suddenly I am interested in the new people on Vanderpump Rules. It’s because of the way the girls react to men treating them like dirt. Initially I was like Dayna Kathan will not last long on this show if she’s dumping Max Boyens at the first whiff of a cheating scandal, because the very basis of this show is the girls (and Tom Sandoval) learning that for months their sigfig has been lying to them and cheating.
I mean, every season without fail there has been a cheating mess involving one of the guys doing the dirty and one of the girls forgiving him after lots of tearful remonstrations and emotional drunk-fests.
Like here we are on the forever precipice (the fall into the abyss of weddings where there literally is no bottom) of Jax Taylor and Brittany Cartwright getting married, and Jax is defining Brittany as the perfect girl for him for one reason and one reason only: she’s the only one who stayed. Every other girl eventually wised up and dumped his cheating, trifling, philandering, narcissistic, manipulating, lying impregnating, betraying, ass. Everyone but Brittany, who wants the wedding in a phony castle and the princess fantasy of turning the beast into a man far more than she wants the man. Um, Brit there’s a reason the Disney movies end with the wedding.
OMG is this Jaxney wedding EVER going to happen on Vanderpump Rules?! It is the wedding that never ends. It just goes on and on my non-friends. And people start getting kicked out of it, and recycled back in, and the wedding party never stops growing just because this is the wedding that never ends…
UGH. UGH. UGH. I am fatigued. I am parched. I am drowning in MeeMaw’s beer cheeeaaaze and I need rescuing before I sink into a the quicksand of saturated fat like a Frito left to dip too long.
So yes, Jax Taylor and Brittany Cartwright‘s tyrannical wedding continues. Bravo really hates us this season. But Jax isn’t the only one not getting it wright – James Kennedy is also back on the scene, waving around his BabyJax t-rex text arms of rage. Why can’t people leave sweet little unicorn-eyed Raquel Leviss alone? Let her grow some My Little Pony wings and fly into the serenity of a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper, covered in cotton candy-scented stickers and those magical sequins that shift directions when you pet them. This is where Raquel belongs. Not in a rage-text vortex with her pathologically drunk boyfriend who blames everything on her being too pretty to trust out in the world on her own and being British.
Last night’s Vanderpump Rules was a doozy. I thought last week was bad, but well, I should’ve known better.
Why on earth does Jax Taylor think it’s a punishment to be kicked out of his trashy-ass wedding? He’s horrific so not being associated with that wad of human filth – a literal hairball pulled out of a 50 year old drain who isn’t even inviting his OWN MOTHER to his wedding – is the best thing that could possibly happen to a decent human being like Tom Sandoval.
Also Ariana Madix is the only person on Vanderpump Rules who truly understands with a toxic cesspool it is. It is the drain! The drain where a thousand strands of hair that wouldn’t pass a drug test and the dead skin of dead souls collects into an impenetrable mass that just traps a person there. Ariana is realizing that she’ll barely escape alive. That she is one scowl and a Hot Cheeto and tequila sundae away from turning into Katie Maloney, marrying a man she detests to prolong the only thing that pays her enough to buy a track home in the way-out Valley.
To quote the immortal N’Sync, whose reputation is sullied by an unfortunate association with Vanderpump Rules, “I know that I can’t take no more, It ain’t no lie, I want to see you out that door, Baby bye bye bye.” And yes, I have had enough!
More than enough of Bravo claiming to support human rights and equality, yet, at every turn employing people who are misogynistic, racist, bigoted, and homophobic. I’ve certainly had enough of Jax Taylor and Brittany Cartwright. I’ve never cared about their love. Which seemed about as deep and stable as a damp cardboard box that Amazon left on your porch while you were crashing at your Tinder hookup’s place (basically Scheana Marie‘s version of marriage).
I’ve never had any interest in their greasy, fishy proposal. Or their Pinterest FAILED IT wedding planning. I can’t with Brittany’s increasingly amped up southern drawl and raspy cackle, or the way she douses herself in tequila like it really can kill off STDs (or kill off the lurking knowledge that her marriage to Jax is fake, and that he will always and forever cheat).