This is an ironic toasting of that bad pun, Bravo.
Fail, Bravo on the pun. FAIL. Also, Kim so clearly does NOT nose best, because this whole thing started with her saying she liked her nose, but maybe possibly kinda-sorta Kyle didn’t? GROSS. Also in this episode: slut shaming, man shaming, pole dancing and Camille flips her shit. Continue reading
Lisa, your face mirrors mine.
These people. THESE PEOPLE. You know, when you have enough money to think that it’s okay to throw a champagne party for a sixth grader, I just don’t know what to do with you. Wait, yes I do: pour another glass of wine and cackle.
Also, I think I’ve realized that people in SoCal think there really is a Stargate and are prepping their women for RA by turning them into hairless cats. It was just a movie, folks.
Brandi, you need better friends, seriously.
Brandi continues to get a beat down (yeesh), the Morally Corrupt Faye Resnick is a designer to “A-Listers” (I laughed so hard at her list), and Kim sees dead people. No wonder she always has that deer in the headlight’s stare!
And I don’t think anything makes me happier about this show than when a psychic is brought on. Clearly I need to ditch the writing gig and start pointing out portals and ghost children to bored, wealthy California ladies. Continue reading
This poor girl. The producers just have it out for her.
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. Continue reading
A real girlfriend holds back all the hair, Kyle. Also, nice krissles – glamour! Bracelet! Shelves! Sbosky krissles.
This episode was a two-fer: our regular ladies plus the slimy tanned bags of desperate flesh that work for Lisa at SUR. I’m sorry, the “attractive” people that aren’t really waiters and bartenders deep down, but soon-to-be-famous “actors.” (Is that too harsh? Look, one girl pronounces “bitch” like “batch.” I can’t be held accountable for my actions when confronted with that.) Continue reading
When a spot of tea is the most hilarious thing on your episode, you need to revisit why your show exists, Bravo.
The morally corrupt Faye Resnick (Camille’s term, not mine) shows up at a dinner party doing that voo doo that she do so well: gettin’ up in someone’s grill over the first course. We also meet a new potential Housewife but I don’t know why she’d be one seeing as she wasn’t irritating, braggy, or awful. Why do we want to watch that?
This was one of those episodes where they clearly were dragging things out just to fill the docket.
HEEEEEEEEEY GUYS! Just because I’m sober doesn’t mean I’m normal!
Wanna see my chakras?
Last week was STFU-gate, and this week it’s the Bickersons vs. Brandi, The Showdown to put the Ho Down. But before we get there, Kyle and Mauricio egg their own house. I just… Whatever. Let’s go visit the Try Hards.
Don’t be fooled into thinking you know what’s happening here.
This is HATE SEX, pure and simple.
First off, boo to you, Bravo for your punny title. You’re better than that. Don’t think that means I’m quitting you, because I can’t. One day they’ll find your promo tee-shirt hanging inside my favorite chambray work shirt and I’ll look stoically across the Wyoming sky, missing you something fierce.
Until then, let’s have fun gawking at crazy rich people! We last left off with Brandi and Kim playing nice at dinner, Kim overcome and crying (“I just have a lot of feelings…”) Continue reading
Who could it be?
I’m just messing with you, it’s Kim. Also, someone pissed off the lighting crew from the looks of things.
Let’s just go ahead and accept that because these people are partially human (look at all the plastic in their skin!) and live almost unbelievable lives that we’re just going to get a little cray over here, okay? Okay. But first: to Mulholland! Nothing bad ever happened there… Continue reading
This is the most surreal thing that has happened on this show. Also, stop tearing celery with your hands, Kim, that’s weird. And nobody wants your STUPID chicken salad, god.
There are no gloriously tacky social climbers tonight but there are two things that made this episode sublime: Kim’s ginormous vat of chicken salad for no one, and everything Yolanda. Seriously. Everything. She restored herself in my eyes here, even though I will always side-eye her for potential racism. Continue reading