Remember how last week the producers forced Brandi to have a drinks with one of her ex-husband’s mistresses in order to lead in Lisa’s new show? I now believe the producers have it out for Brandi, because DAMN. This horse they’re beating is just about dead, and there’s no sign of stopping.
Even though Brandi isn’t the most polished gem, I still like her. She’s who she is, there’s no pretense, you always know where she stands, and she says (mostly) smart things like this: “You can’t steal someone’s husband. You have to be ready to go.” That second you should be “they” as in the husband, but yeah. She’s right.
She cries a little, Lisa feels terrible about the contract she signed, and Scheana wobbles away on her platform pumps to pretend to be low-rent Brittney Spears for another day, which is pretty damn po’, because Brittney is low-rent Brittney. Cheetoh dust on the fingers and road dirt on those bare feet, y’all.
At the opposite end of the class spectrum, we visit Yolanda at her ocean-view estate where she’s picking organic lemons and lavender while her bees make honey, as one does. Kyle is there to get a cleanse, because this is what these women do for fun. (No Mario Kart? Pizza and gossip? I like my friends better.)
What is a cleanse, you ask? It’s torture so you can fight one more day against the ravages of time. And so you can shit your brains out. Let me stress: MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS SNEER AT THIS. So. It doesn’t “detoxify” your body. It makes you shit, makes you grumpy, makes you hungry, and then after several days of hallucinating that straight lemon juice, cayenne and maple juice SOMEHOW MAGICALLY TASTES DELICIOUS, you get to stop and eat real food. Then you eat all the food and put the weight back on. Yay?
Look, you can’t have any vitamins or supplements while on this thing, there isn’t any protein, or good fats, and this is a shit way to get “healthy.” You rob your body of essential bacteria in your gut which screws up your metabolism, you force your body to eat up muscle not fat and this really is stupid. Just eat right, lay off the booze, sleep and drink water. But this is Beverly Hills where people spend tens of thousands of dollars to make their faces look feline and jam black rocks up their shakras and converse with dead people, so what the hell do I know?
Blah blah, Kyle is askance as Yolanda pushes the benefits of this while backdoor bitching about Kim, who was supposed to do this with her but bailed. (Smart move, Kim.)
Meanwhile, Kim is “baking real cookies” at home as Milton, her houseman? what? What happened to Maria, her put-upon housekeeper that was forced to dress up like Kim’s babies when Kim was shit-faced and needy? Anyway, Kim baked those cookies and set out a fruit plate so Weevil’s dad (any Veronica Mars fans out there?) who happens to be Kim’s “life coach” of four years…
Let’s talk about the job ol’ Gary (Weevil’s dad) has done. Do I even need to say it? No, I do not. Gary? Ya fired. Except Kim adores him because he says how clear her aura is. He also tells her to stop saying that Kyle has changed, because it’s just that Kim’s sober now, so she’s finally seeing Kyle for who she really is. Okay, maybe I see why he has value.
Mostly Kim is just so broken that it makes me sad and I want her to stop airing her laundry on TV, which I know is the point of the show, but this is like, too real. Gah. KIM. GO BACK TO MAKING TROUGHS OF CHICKEN SALAD AND LOOKING LIKE BEES ARE UNDER YOUR SKIN.
In an elaborate way to stretch out the show’s air time, Lisa is sent on a mission to taste food at Villa Blanca while Ken and Rocio, the lovely house keeper, set up a saccharine-sweet surprise for her. Ken has installed a swing – that Rocio decorates with pink ribbon and fake flowers – and then planted a bunch of pink impatiens into a heart shape under it. He even made a wee chair and umbrella for Giggy.
Now, this is nothing that I would want. But Ken knows that Lisa will love it, and she does, and she’s visibly moved, and they really are super sweet. It’s almost their 30th anniversary, and he wants to renew their vows, and they’re so cute I can’t stand it.
Kyle has a huge limo pick her up, and I wonder why the hell Mauricio bought her a damn Maserati seeing as she never drives herself anywhere. She has the driver pick up her friend Marissa, who apparently lives in the fucking Valley, and I thought she was a big honcho in Hollywood? Also, she’s wearing a pool cover up to dinner, so I officially am side-eying this Marissa character.
They’re having a dinner at a Moroccan place with everyone minus the Bickersons, to prove that they can actually all congregate and not have the evening turn into a cat fight. Right.
Camille walked in, saw the cameras on her, and strutted her stuff like it was a runway (Friend-for-Hire Didi must be disguised as a belly dancer to keep eyes on Mistress) and the rest of the group filters in. Brandi informs the girls that Adrienne’s lawyers have demanded that she sign a confidentiality statement, never to discuss the Big Secret that was bleeped, or the Bickersons will sue her for everything’s she got.
(Her Ab-roller, Pier One dishes, Rooms-to-Go Modern Suite, and her Dyson? Come on. That’s shitty, Adrienne. You literally shit out money – they put gold flakes on their food, remember? – and you’re going after this kid?)
Kim shows up with her breasts all over the place, and Kim? It’s time to go to a higher neckline. Or a better, more supportive bra. She’s awkward all over the place, has way too serious a conversation with Kyle about repairing their relationship for a party of this size, and ugh. I kind of don’t think she’s sober here, either, which makes me legitimately sad.
Side note: belly dancers come in, which means Kyle has to purse her thin lips and swing her hair over her head in her “signature” move. No one asked for your hair-tograph, Kyle. Put it away.
Side note 2: Taylor is druuuunk, and someone needs to point out that Taylor is a sloppy, sloppy drinker. And she’s always drinking. Ergo, she’s always sloppy. She laughs for no reason, is aggressively holding people’s hands, telling them advice that is really something she’s in need of telling herself, and oh Taylor, you are one chardonnay away from sitting in a suitcase in the closet. When Kim – the actual, confessed alcoholic – is giving you the “Gurl, how much you drinkin’?” side-eye, it’s bad.
Camille, forced to sit next to Taylor, keeps trying to shut it down but Taylor has chimp-strength when there’s tequila involved, and the only thing left to do in this situation is to ride the crazy train to oh-shitsville. Except for how the conversation across the room turns to Brandi being sued by Adrienne, and Taylor won’t let Brandi defend herself. See: aggressive hand holding and advice offering.
Poor Brandi is trapped listening to people discuss her like she’s not there, and then Mauricio, hottest husband in the Housewives Franchise is suddenly unattractive to me when he starts bitching at Brandi for not calling Adrienne after getting a cease and desist letter. Mauricio, what?
He’s all, “You need to be strong and handle things” which, yeah for some folks, but that’s not who Brandi is, nor is she savvy enough to know how to handle someone so sue-happy like Adrienne. Most people wouldn’t know what to do in this situation. Ken and Lisa come to her defense, and I just love Ken, I do. Sure, he’s a survivor of the War of 1812, but he’s a good man with a kind heart, old school male protectiveness aside.
It becomes too much for Brandi, being told by Mauricio all of the things she’s done wrong, so she starts dropping F bombs, which is her first line of defense. Everyone now dog-piles on her (minus Ken and Lisa, because they’re genuinely good people) when Lisa asks why no one said this sort of thing to her when Adrienne was talking shit about Lisa?
Dead silence. Oh, right, because they’re all afraid of Lisa and no one cares about Brandi. This is just awful. Brandi, however, loudly tells Mauricio to go fuck himself and seriously. If you don’t want to jump in and defend Brandi after watching that blood bath, you might actually be Satan or one of his lovers.
Next week! Yolanda low balls an artist at his own gallery showing, and Adrienne and Paul try to lure Mauricio to Team Bickerson. This season is getting really icky. I blame Adrienne and Paul, personally.