Real Housewives of Beverly Hills 2.10 Tempest in a Tea Party

Lisa is simply too funny and charming to be the Alexis Morell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan , no matter how much the editors want me to think it. Also, Lisa would never wear a jeweled turban.

Hey, who’s ready to talk about a dead guy? Everyone involved in this show. But Russell does get a little defense, and Taylor is going a little bananas so that evens it out? Also the Bickersons return!

Kyle is still at Kim’s after learning she’s had a secret year long relationship with Gollum’s older brother. And it turns out that he has a preciousssssss too! Kyle notices that he has a gold ring on his finger, and wonders if they’re actually engaged or married or something. No, no, nothing like that, it’s just a promise ring because Kim has some serious arrested development from growing up on the Disney lot and doesn’t know how to not be a 16 year old.

Kyle mentions to the camera that Kim’s kids don’t like Elder Gollum and think he’s controlling. Hmm. She also says that she hopes she’s wrong about him, if only for her sister’s sake.

Adrienne and Paul have a birthday dinner (it looks like it’s four, what are you, eighty going to Luby’s for the blue plate special?) and are settled in a private room, surrounded by wine. I have to point out that Paul goes orgasmic for a bottle of 2006 Jordan, and I buy that at my local Kroger’s grocery store. They are rolling in money, and they can’t splurge for something a little more upscale? Then again, their house is dripping in Jersey, so there you go.

They bicker over what to order, Paul insists on ordering for Adrienne, she insists on eye rolling and telling him to not send food back and wow, what a miserable relationship, I’m sorry. They decide to focus their attention on other miserable people, Taylor and Russell. Neither of them knows what to believe, rumors are flying all over Beverly about abuse, her skeletor face, their lack of having money but spending it like they’ve got it, and so on.

Paul says it’s hard for him to reconcile the things Taylor has said about Russell with the almost meek individual he’s come to know. He’s got a point. Adrienne chooses to reserve judgment until she sees something concrete. Hmm.

A waiter brings in a firecracker jammed into a Ding Dong and almost lights Paul’s face on fire. Happy Birthday!

Mauricio comes home looking delicious as always and greets Kyle. She fills him in on Kim’s shenanigans, which he takes in stride. Meanwhile, I can’t stop looking at their silky terrier, on her back, looking like a mini Ewok. I want to steal her dog. Also, where is the lady sitter? I feel bereft.

Taylor has been nominated for an award, “Women Making A Difference.” Why? Because she chairs an online shoe company, or something. That’s some difference, you don’t know how much Ugg abuse there is in LA, guys. Think of the cumulative stink wafting out of all of that lamb wool. Russell is there, praising her. HMM. What are we supposed to believe, guys?

Everyone is there. Well, everyone but Lisa. Taylor didn’t invite her, but didn’t tell anyone, so when Lisa calls Kyle to make plans, Kyle assumes she’s there. Whoops. Faux pas! Kyle and the rest slip in to their table, and I see Dana is there. She leans across to greet Kyle, hoping for a little tongue, but Kyle chooses to shake the tips of her fingers.

Back at the Vanderfabulouses, Lisa tells Ken about the snub, feels like it was a snub, but oh well. She’s having a tea tomorrow, and she’ll rise above it and invite Taylor anyway, because that’s what one does.

Kyle lets Taylor know about her faux pas, to prepare her for any fall out, and Dana slithers in, telling Taylor that she made the right choice, and that she really wants to take this journey with her through becoming not friends with Lisa. They’ll connect and really grow as people.

Oh, Taylor didn’t win, but it’s just an honor to be nominated.

It’s the Tea Party, but there are no stars and bars to be found, just rolling carts and cucumber sandwiches. Ken helps by putting Giggy in his god damn pram. Because every dog needs custom lounge wear and a fucking pram. Heavy forbid that dog’s feet touch the ground!

The Bentley parade begins and everyone spills out for a little Darjeeling and gossip. Lisa promptly tells Camille how sorry she is that Kelsey is such a dick (he really is) and Camille is grateful for the support. She gives that really intense, “My face has botox, so I can’t move my eyebrows, so I’m going to look intently at you and attempt to purse my lips to show thanks.” Everyone is moved.

Lisa asks if anyone else got an email from Russell detailing yet another gossip rag article saying that Taylor is on diet pills and had an alien baby and is Kendra Wilkinson’s lover, or what the hell ever is in those things. Nope, just Lisa. Well, and Kyle.

Kim is a no show, so Lisa calls her to berate her, does another hilarious Kim impression, and we move on. Taylor comes, and everything quickly devolves into a cat fight. YAY!

Lisa: Taylor, darling, I made cakes. Eat one.

Taylor: How dare you.

Lisa: Oh, pish and tosh. By the way, thanks for the invit- oh, right. I didn’t get one.

Taylor: You wrote on the girls’ bathroom wall that I smell and have no friends.

Lisa: No, I never did, you’re simply obtuse. I said I was not your best friend, and neither were the others.


Lisa: * blinks rapidly *

Taylor: You are mean and awful and I want to be your friend so badly and yet I hate you but please love me, oh my god, also, I really hate you. Also, love me.

Lisa: I’m quite worried and scared for you, Taylor.

Taylor: “If you can’t be my friend, please don’t be my enemy!”

Good hell, ladies.

Taylor rises to leave, tells everyone that they all suck, they all should have jumped down Lisa’s throat and said mean things to their hostess, and they all talk about her anyway [oooooooh] and Lisa’s an ego-maniacal shit-heel that dares to have a picture of herself and her stoopid dog as her screensaver like a crazy person and speaking of crazy, I am trying to work on myself and I hate you all, and I’m sorry I ruined your tea. Buh-bye.

She leaves, they all talk about her. About how she’s kinda cuckoo. And how no one knows what to do with the Information No One Is To Talk About regarding her volatile relationship with Russell and how they don’t know what to believe is even true.

Meanwhile, Taylor runs into Paul outside (he lives across the street, remember) and gets him to check her plasticene to see if she could use a little more.

Camille tells everyone about her three hour lunch with Taylor recently where it seemed like Taylor and Russell were over and then Taylor brightened up and left, saying she and Russell were going to soar like a G-4 somewhere.

Taylor comes back in, because those little red velvet cakes did look tasty, and if she smells one, that’s the same as eating one, right? Camille takes over the dog and pony show, and seriously. When did Camille Grammer become my favorite? Also, I love her steel blue blouse. Gorg.

Camille says, “Yeah, we’ve been talking about you non-stop since you left. This is now an intervention. You’re weird. You say one thing, you do the other, your husband is totally creepy, we don’t know what’s true and what isn’t, and we’ve all been protecting you.

Say what?

Camille, voice choked with unshed tears, says passionately, “Because of what you told us about your marriage. We don’t say that he hits you.”

OH. SHIT. Cat’s out of the bag. And let me interject for a moment. If he was hitting her, I would like to resurrect him just so I could punch him in the nuts until he dies from it. Hitting is wrong (pretend I didn’t just say I would hit him until he died from it.) There is no excuse. And girlfriends? If you think it’s happening, don’t stand by. TELL SOMEONE. 1-800-799-SAFE, it’s anonymous and instant help.

So. Camille continues. “We don’t say that he broke your jaw. Or beat you up. BUT NOW WE’VE SAID IT.” Holy shit. Now that’s a cliffhanger. And it’s real life, so this is rally awful.


NEXT WEEK: Camille storms out of the tea party, Adrienne hates on Planet Hollywood (well, yeah) and Taylor wants Camille to shovel actual bull shit.

(And seriously. 1-800-799-SAFE. There’s no reason for someone to hit you. THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO TAKE THAT. So.)