DanThat'sCool!

 

I’m just here for the snacks and the Kelsey Bashing.

 

 

 

 

I’ve lost all respect for Adrienne…and Mexican food.

 

 

 

If this was Jersey I would smack you upside the head, bitch.

 

 

 

This is Beverly Hills, bitch.  Have your assistant smack her.

 

 

 

 

Best.  Job.  Ever. Take that, Seacrest.

 

 

 

Check your mailbox.

You should have already received your invitation to the super über extended version of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Reunion Show.

Stuck in between the Neiman’s catalog, your Restylane auto delivery shipment and the bill for your new Louboutins should be an embossed Bravo invite for three solid weeks of excessively dramatic excess.

High style and high tension, with perfumed air so thick that you could blot up the nervous flop sweat with $100 bills.  The only problem was that the invite didn’t clarify whether we should wear blinged out $25,000 sunglasses or protective eyewear from Home Depot for the inevitable cat fight throw downs.

The Wives were back together, with one noticeably missing piece of the Crazy Puzzle, to relive every moment of the past season.

Right as we started, something was missing.

As Andy Cohen smirked and shifted around in that grade school boy who just saw his first boobie kind of way that makes him so endearing, you knew something was up.

To his left Kyle, Taylor and Adrienne were seated like Beverly Hills royalty, all futzing with their hair and trying to figure out how to daintily cross their legs while pivoting on those ridiculously gravity defying stilettos they always wear.

To his right were Lisa and Camille…and a big pile of pillows.

In all honesty, it took me about 3 minutes into the show before I realized that the pillows were actually pillows, and not Kim slumped all over the sofa.  Even though every media outlet aside from Animal Planet had already reported that Kim had checked herself into an Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Center days before the taping, I forgot for a minute and and wondered why her dress had such enormous tassels.

Then I realized they were pillows and it all made more sense.

I guess Andy knew they were pillows before I did, because right out of the gate Reality Boy asked Kyle how Kim was doing and if she would mind giving both the chemical makeup and street value of the substance that had spiraled her sister into rehab.

Needless to say, that led to the evening’s first uncomfortably awkward span of dead air.

So long and awkward that I half expected the production booth to pipe in elevator muzac just to break the tension as Andy’s eyes darted around like the guy who sits in that really tall chair at Wimbledon.

Kyle tossed it to Kim, who would have to get back to Andy on that one.

Obviously Andy had a load of questions for the Wives.  The three week time frame was a pretty good clue, as was the stack of flashcards in his lap.  Since I figured he was not studying up for his mid terms, through the process of elimination I guessed that we were all in it for the long haul.

Like any good bartender, Andy served the lite beer first before hitting us hard with shots of tough love.

Adrienne, decked out in what I believe was either a one sleeved SuperHero costume or the dress the girl with the baton always wears at the start of the parade route, got to relive her classic Soap the Chicken scene.

I said Soap.  Not Choke.  This is a family site, thank you.  Dysfunctional family…but family.  Get your mind out of the gutter.

Somehow that seamlessly transitioned into a discussion on Lisa’s big butt and whether she had work done on it, or simply wore her dresses way too tight.

Voting is still open on that one.

Lisa also had to justify spending less than one million dollars…but more than $500 and less than $500,00 and probably more than $7124…gah…just spit it out, woman…on daughter Pandora’s over the top Pink Barbie Princess wedding.  She tried to peg most of the excess on Sweet & Sour Wedding Planner Kevin Lee, who we got to see in some kind of a John Travolta flashback/dream sequence as Kevin strutted down the walkway looking like the fiercest  Tony Manero evah picking up his dry cleaning during the Saturday Night Fever opening credits.

Bling Bling Bling Bling Bling, Dahling.

Then Andy finally started getting to the good stuff and asked about tension between former next door neighbors Lisa and Adrienne.  That’s more like it, dude.

Before our eyes the two Wives morphed into Mean Girls in the cafetorium and went off on each other about how Lisa called Adrienne’s dog Jackpot ”Crackpot.”  On Twitter even.  Bitch.

And Adrienne was hurt that Lisa didn’t want the Bachelorette Party to be held at her Palms Casino.  And Adrienne was hurt that Lisa called her new shoe line The Maloof Hoof.  And…And…

Camille spoke up and agreed that it was a little mean to call Adrienne’s feet hooves, and Lisa point/counter pointed that she liked the shoes.  The little fat shoes.

Then Adrienne made that sound that a balloon makes when the very last squirt of air comes out before it goes totally limp.

Honestly, if Adrienne could actually walk in those things you know she would have jumped to the other couch and stuck a hoof spike into Lisa’s overly lined eyeball.  (Lined in white, on the inner bottom rim.  That makes your eyes look whiter.  Duh.  The More You Know.  Knowledge is Power, kids.)

As long as they were Lisa bashing, they all gave their thoughts on Kyle’s “Lisa preys on the weak” comment, which had been originally spoken in an attempt to cheer up Taylor and hopefully pull her in off the ledge during one of her many meltdowns.  Lisa didn’t appreciate that at all.

And I know that Taylor has gone through a horrible, emotionally devastating time that I wouldn’t wish on anyone…but I think her lips were on upside down the whole time.

Andy fidgeted more than normal, fumbled through his rolodex for an easy one and then changed the subject to Beverly Hills Bling to break the tension.

As I rolled quarters to pay next month’s rent, I got to hear about Adrienne’s $100,000 home spa, Lisa’s Valentino dress that cost more than all those vaccines Sally Struthers used to cry about, and Label Whore Dana’s $25,000 sunglasses.

Yeah.  Those again.

Kyle thought it was ridiculous, but I didn’t see any H&M tag hanging off her gown either, if you know what I mean.

Then it was back to heavy hitters as Andy finally brought up the suicide of Russell Armstrong and how it has effected everyone.

Taylor held it together pretty well, I gotta admit.  You go, girl.  Stronger and stronger.

She talked about how handy it is to have her shrink, Dr. “No Sock” Sophy on speed dial, and how they speak every day and…yes…he is a real doctor even though he got his degree at a different kind of place and has a different kind of title on his name tag and doesn’t wear socks that much.  But whatever works.  Not everyone can ride Oprah’s coat tail to Dr. Stardom.

Camille admitted that she didn’t feel the show should have aired this season which probably made Andy do a thick, nervous swallow.  But it did.

And Watch What Happens Live is now 5 days a week.

So there, haters.

They all got into a pretty heavy discussion on how the show may have actually saved Taylor’s life, and by doing so didn’t paint a very nice picture of Russell.  It did give Camille a chance to slam Kelsey Grammer a little, which is obviously something on her daily to-do list.  Blondie don’t take crap anymore…but she can still dish it out.  I love her.

The whole British Tea Party from Hell mess came front and center again, and Camille defended her decision to say “IT,” which had resulted in Russell’s retina burning texts and law suit threatening email.  There was still some confusion as to whether Taylor really knew about the email before it happened, and both Adrienne and Camille blurted out that Brandi had told them that Taylor said she was in the loop.

During the heated debate, Brandi was still out in the Green Room squishing her boobs into another signature strapless, so she wasn’t there to defend herself one way or the other.  That’ll be fun next week.

Just to make sure all the pigs were rolling in the mud as the first hour finished up, Andy switched gears and put Lisa and Adrienne in the ring again by unleashing the Lisa vs. Bernie the Chef controversy.

Seems Lisa may have said some not so nice things about Bernie and his dry Mexican food.  I guess Lisa felt it was too ethnic for whatever reason if that even makes any sense, and she had gone and allegedly told someone.

Her Spanish housekeeper, maybe?

Or the Colombian crew that does her landscaping?

Lisa claims all she did was comment that there was no food by the time she got to Adrienne’s and that is what she said.

Ok.  If you live ACROSS the street from Adrienne, and still can’t get your lazy, bigger than last year butt over there in time for dinner before the food is all gone….I mean…seriously.  Is it just me?  How does that even happen?  If people are blogging that your butt looks bigger than it did last season than it probably wouldn’t kill you to skip a meal anyway.

Sometimes I just don’t get rich people.  They be crazy.

Then the whole thing just fell apart as the argument spun off course from Bernie’s illegal immigrant burritos to Lisa getting paid to gossip.

Adrienne didn’t believe that Lisa had never sold a story to the tabloids, which was one of Russell’s biggest issues with Mrs. Vanderpump all along this season.  Radar Online got a lot of press, good/bad/or otherwise, as Adrienne accused Lisa of making a profit off leaking info to their reporters, to which she obviously denied doing while nervously flipping her bangs.

Camille chimed in that she was also told Lisa did that kind of shady stuff, and probably would have snarked on Kelsey again if Lisa hadn’t flipped out and called it character assassination and some other stuff that got (bleeped) out.

Housewives….meet Mob Wives.  (Bleep) is still (bleep) even if you’re wearing (bleepin’) Valentino.

Lisa lost respect for Adrienne for saying that, Adrienne gave a half hearted apology and I think Andy may or may not have had a little nervous pee.

As bait to reel us all back in next time, Brandi came out just long enough to diss Eddie Cibrian.  I believe that her contract specifically states that she gets one jab for every two that Camille gets in on Kelsey.  Have someone from Legal check my facts.

As soon as Brandi sat down, Kyle’s back fur stood up like an alley cat that just sniffed some low class behind the dumpster, but we’re going to have to wait until next time to see what happens.

The love fest ended with Kyle sneering at Brandi, Adrienne and Lisa grinding their teeth and Camille wondering how much she could get if she puts another house on the market when Kelsey isn’t looking, all while Andy just sat there oozing that delightfully effervescent mix of boyish charm and gossipy nail tech.

Girrrllll….it’s getting good.  I need me some snacks before it hits the fan.

See you at Part 2.

 

Seriously? Is she still talking? Lord.

 

 

 

 

 

I smell some crazy up in here.

 

 

 

 

Talk to the finger. And fix your top.

 

 

 

I am seriously too pretty to be sued.

 

 

 

 

Ladies and Gentlemen.

Welcome to the RHOBH Throwdown.

Tonight we have a rare double fight card.

First:  It’s the highly anticipated return of The SlutPig vs. The (Alleged) Substance Abuser, followed immediately by our second fight of the evening:  Russell Armstrong vs. Everybody.

Also, please be sure to stop by our snack bar located adjacent to the parquet dance floor for some fresh sushi and absolutely decadent liver paté.

Let’s get ready to rumble.

Seriously.  You can’t make this stuff up.

The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills unleashed the Hounds this week, after dressing them all in their best Summer Whites.  It was another lavish Beverly Hills party that allowed all the ‘Wives to cut the tags off some unworn piece of couture from their walk-ins and wear even more jewelry.

This time around though, the only thing more awkward than figuring out how to not spill red wine on your white designer gown was Bravo trying to figure out how to deal with yet another Russell-centric episode without stomping on his grave.

As soon as the opening credits rolled, you knew we were in for some Hills action.  While Paul tried to figure out what the fax/printer in the study was used for, Adrienne made the trek down the seemingly endless halls of Maison Maloof to fill her husband in on some important happenings in their Inner Circle.  Paul was definitely out of his element in the world of office paperwork.  He is much better suited for plastic surgery and spousal aggravation, as I’m pretty certain this was the first episode this season that didn’t involve him tripping Adrienne, scaring her from behind a door or sticking gum in her hair.

I bow to his childish antics.  A medical degree doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a good Purple Nurple once in awhile.

Turns out that Adrienne spoke with Camille who had just received a scathing email from Russell.  As you will recall during Lisa’s disastrously snooty British Tea Party, Camille had lost all patience with Taylor and blurted out some not so nice things that Taylor had told the girls regarding Russell and his (…again with the alleged, Bravo…) abuse.  Even the neighborhood paperboy probably knows that their marriage is in shambles, and Camille had grown tired of Taylor saying one thing and then running back to Russell in the same breath.

Camille was also coming off a bad ManHating roller coaster ride, thank you Kelsey Grammer, so that probably didn’t help her disposition.  That and how strong Brits steep their tea.

After the fact, during one of Taylor’s good days, she told Russell what happened.  Typical Bravo TV Alpha Male behavior then requires that you either take to your Twitter account and talk 140 characters of smack, or blast off an email that can burn the recipient’s retinas.

Russell had chosen the latter, and threatened to sue Camille for committing the crime of trash talking.  How someone can be sued for only repeating what she has been told, ps…by your own wife by the way, was unclear to everyone and now Adrienne is not sure that they should attend Kyle’s  annual White Party.  Friends don’t sue friends, and now everyone is worried that anything they say will result in a court date.

 

 

Dang, girl.

 

 

 

Speaking of Saving the Date.  Lisa has still not finished the prep work on daughter Pandora’s Ultimate Wedding.  She has also not finished coming to grips with the fact that this is not her own wedding, because she still finishes every sentence with I want or I need or I love it.  I’m also starting to notice that she might be air kissing fiancé Jason a little too much, now that you mention it.  Mommy might still have a little Vegas Chippendale in her bloodstream.

Mr. Wok It Girl Kevin Lee still insists that the wedding needs to be over the top, dahling, and as the Wedding Planner he insists on a 20 piece band.  Lisa just wants some good tunes for her…I mean, Pandora’s…big day, but is willing to give a listen to Kevin’s choice, so she allows him to bring in a small percentage of the musicians for a quick demo in the living room.  Or sitting room.  Or tea room.  Whatever that was.

The band was good, in a bald Marc Anthony kind of way.  They also demoed a little R&B for Jason while Lisa got uncomfortably intimate with Uber Sissy Dog Giggy.

What’s more awkward than Lisa’s lap dance with a Chippendale boy in Vegas you ask?  Try a face dance with Giggy.  Literally.  You know where his face has been, right Lisa?  That was a close tie with what appeared to be Kevin Lee’s first dance with a woman as they all slow jammed to the band until Ms. Lee’s goggles fogged up.

After the Vanderpump Hump was over and Giggy had coughed something up, I knew that everything else was going to be all White.

Kyle was getting ready for her annual White Party, completely oblivious to the Camille/Russell internet bitch fight.  Since no woman on the Bravo network knows how to do their own hair, Kyle’s stylist was working her curling iron magic when Adrienne called with all the deets.

Needless to say, Kyle was upset.  The moral of the story is that nobody feels Taylor and Russell should be allowed into the party because it would make Camille uncomfortable.  Since receiving the email, Camille had spoken with her legal team, who are probably on speed dial right now…again, thank you Kelsey…and they advised her to stay as far away as possible from Russell.  And with Kyle being the only ‘Wife to not live in an obnoxiously sprawling mansion, chances of them bumping into each other are pretty good.

That and the fact that none of the Inner Circle feels comfortable around Russell now.  Nobody wants to get sued, and they know how they all get when the booze is free.

 

It’s almost my birthday.  I really don’t need this.

 

 

 

Even though Kyle never manages to plan the party until the very last minute, it still goes off on schedule as the guests start arriving in their finest white designer wear.

Everyone is decked out in their best non-Marine dress whites and jewels, except for Kim’s new Ken doll who looks like a blue collar cross between a Cheesecake Factory waiter and that 1950′s Milk Man from the television commercials.  I’m sure he means well, but Ken is a little doofy and doesn’t quite fit in with the crowd.

No wonder one of Kim’s daughters takes Nyquil.

Yeah.  I skipped that part.  But one of the daughters took Nyquil and fell asleep in the shower.  I don’t even know how that happens, but it’s proof that the apple doesn’t fall far from the Crazy Tree.

Much to Kyle’s disdain, Kim is looking for a fight and is a little disappointed that Brandi is no longer wearing her rehab boot, since that would have made her a slower target to chase down.  Ever since their blowout at Game Night way back when, Kim has been driving around late at night with her lights off hoping to accidentally run down Brandi on the side of the road.

I’ll give Brandi a little credit.  Even though she talks like a truck driver and didn’t quite have her left boob tucked all the way into her dress, she means well.  She really wants to play nice with all these Housewives, but like Paul and the Office Depot, she is way out of her element.

Kim tracks down Brandi’s scent, whips out her signature pointing finger/weapon and starts getting all up in Brandi’s face.  There’s no way around this one.

Kim is a mess.  A hot one.

And then it just got creepy.

Kyle breaks down while trying to figure out what to do when Taylor and Russell arrive.  Everyone else wants them to be turned away.  No room in the Manger.

Lisa has a feeling that Taylor doesn’t even know about the email.  Adrienne tries to be the voice of reason but it’s already gone way past that point.

As they all gather and try to figure out what to do, the Armstrong limo is getting closer.  Aside from the fact that in Real Time Russell is no longer even alive and that seeing him in each episode is already like hearing a Voice from Beyond, this week he is creeping out during the ride over and rambling about how he’s gonna have fun and gonna drink this whole bottle of vodka and get busy like they did in Vegas.  Taylor is nervous about seeing Camille and tells Russell he’s a good boy now.  When he repeated it with that vague, blank stare that he always has behind his glasses it just gave me the heebie jeebies.

Kyle still can’t get it together, so they figure there is strength in numbers and all waddle out to meet the limo together, looking like the last scene of The Mary Tyler Moore Show finale.  (For our younger readers….Google it.  Classic TV Land moment.  )

Group hugs aside, the decision is that Russell and Taylor need to turn around and not enter the party.  When the limo pulls up, Kyle barely gets the first sentence out before she loses it again, leaving everyone else to talk over each other and explain what is going on.

Needless to say, Russell is not happy.  Taylor has not even read the email, and begrudgingly turns around and threatens to simply go back to Vegas where they just were…and would still be, if they hadn’t dropped everything and flown back for this stupid party.  She is not happy either.

Russell says the email simply asked Camille to call him at her earliest convenience.  Paul read the email and begs to differ, calling it inappropriate.  Taylor gets all wide eyed and isn’t sure what to do because Kyle is still crying.  Mauricio points out that no one wants to get sued, which sends Taylor and Russell back out onto the street.

As soon as the couple get their bad attitudes inside the limo, Russell pulls at wires, yanks off his Bravo mic pack and it suddenly all starts to look a little more real.  Knowing how it all ends, this is again a red flag that nobody picked up on at the time.

Housewives and Househusband heads are popping in and out of the limo from every direction as they try to release some of the steam from the situation.  (Kids…as long as you’re on TV Land, check out reruns of Laugh-In as well.  That big wall with all the windows and doors where the heads kept popping in and out.  It was like that, but more expensive.)

The rest of Russell’s dialogue is sub-titled since he tore off all his wiring, and the whole thing ends with an all too ominous line that spoke louder than anything else that evening.

“Just let us go.”

…..

And just so I don’t end this on a heavy note, since dat’s not how we roll…did anyone else notice that after it was all over and the limo drove off, Mauricio walked back into the party with Russell’s vodka bottle in his hand?

Well played, Mauricio.  Well played.

 

 

Tick. Tick. Tick…

 

 

 

 

 

Tick. Tick. Tick…

 

 

 

 

Boom goes the dynamite.

 

 

 

This one might date me a little bit.

It wasn’t until this week’s episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was all over and I had finished brushing my teeth and put on my Snuggie, that a commercial for Andy Cohen’s Bravo Clubhouse Party thing came on and I suddenly realized that I hadn’t just sat through an old episode of Beverly Hills 90210.

The original one.  With the rich high school girls.  That one.

Rich Girls trying to outdo each other with their clothes and their party planning.

Rich Girls fighting, screaming, finger pointing and hair pulling.

Rich Girls crying and believing they are the only ones in the whole world with problems.

Rich Girl Drama.

Seriously.  Could have fooled me.

The only thing missing was Luke Perry combing his hair in the background.  If Adrienne and Brandi had met for lunch at the Peach Pit, I swear he would have been there chillin’ with Jason Priestley drinking a malted in their favorite booth.

Am I wrong?

The first high school flashback this week was Lisa and Moo Goo Gay Wedding Planner Kevin“Dahling” Lee choosing table set ups for daughter Pandora’s wedding extravaganza.  It was classic Rich Girl making sure her prom outdoes all the other proms ever in the history of Proms.

I’m still not entirely convinced that Lisa even realizes that this wedding is actually for Pandora and not herself, because there is way too much “I want” and “I need” going on throughout the entire planning process.

Since the last time he unleashed his wedding fabulosity on us, Kevin had changed into a different pair of freakishly oversized tinted glasses and appeared to have also popped on a different wig for this week’s Big Reveal.  Dude is definitely giving Rachel Zoe’s hubby a run for his money in the Muppet Hair Best Of category.

While most of us in the Real World are cutting out bridal magazine photos and taking them to the Ramada Special Events girl, Lisa has Kevin bring in three complete tablescapes for them to experience.  All three are exceptionally pink and exceptionally over the top.  There are hanging floral explosions, fine gold laden china, towering crystal vases and pewter mugs that look like they were lifted from that Medieval Manor restaurant where you eat with your hands.

Lisa plays jigsaw puzzle and takes the best from each display to create her ultimate wedding reception table.

I mean Pandora’s.

Kevin stops air kissing long enough to threaten her with a million dollar wedding, to which she lays down the law.  Personally, I don’t think someone who has three complete test run tablescapes sitting in the middle of her backyard tennis courts should be squawking about chump change.  That made me raise an eyebrow.

Can’t say the same for Kyle’s Mother-in-law Estella though, as she get her final post-face lift check up.  Nothing is going to raise, or droop, on that face from now on.  It was a quick little scene to prove that not only is Kyle a big baby around needles, but Estella will be pushing Botox behind the school dumpster in another year.  She’s got a wrinkle free monkey on her back now.  Shoot me up, Doc.

Then it’s off to the Peach Pit for Adrienne and Brandi.  After all the drama filled parties at everyone else’s homes, Brandi feels she should host her own Fight Club for one night.

Some people never learn.  Brandi is like that little cat sitting on the kitchen stool who keeps touching the stove no matter how many times you slap her nose. Even when she burns her paw she won’t stop.  No kitty.  Bad kitty.  Put on a bra, kitty.

Since Brandi just had to move to a new place (…insert weekly LeAnn Rimes home wrecker smack talk here…) she has secured the Malibu beach front property of a friend who also doesn’t know any better as a location for the girls to get together.

Since Kyle didn’t seem a big fan of Brandi’s original idea to bring in porn stars to school the ‘Wives in all things tasty & nasty, she has downsized to belly dancing.  What could go wrong, right?  Hold that thought.

In a brief salute to Bravo’s Mexican viewers, Kyle is hosting a Cinco de Mayo party complete with Tostitos and Estella’s new face.  Both look better dunked in salsa.  Just saying.

Faye Resnick makes another random walk through the dining room as part of her ongoing I Knew OJ Simpson Tour.  How does she get past security?  And why is it only when there’s food?

When Faye and Estella try to smile about natural looking plastic surgery it is a moment destined for the Reality TV Time Capsule.

Meanwhile, Lisa continues to drain the life, and the money, out of husband/dog walker Ken.

Renovations on the expansion of their restaurant are moving right along, and they drop by to check on the progress.  Lisa walks in like she owns the place.  Which she does, so I guess she’s entitled to that one.  Ken walks in carrying Sissy Dog Supreme Giggy like it’s a furry ManPurse.  Their two business partners walk in just so they can say they were on Bravo.

Lisa wants to open the restaurant asap.  Ken wants to retire.  Giggy wants to be held some more.  That was about it.

In another classic 90210 high school moment, the plain girl is at home doing laundry while all the Cool Kids are out doing stuff.

What was her name again?  I forget.  The plain girl on 90210.  Not Kim…but she is doing laundry.  And folding towels.  And eating Cheetos.

Scenes don’t come much more random than that one.  Seriously, Bravo?

At least Kim got her crazy on long enough to talk to the dryer a little bit.  If you ask me, the show’s not the same when she isn’t screaming “Slut Pig!” at somebody.  More Kim, please.

Then it was off to Malibu, and enough drama to fill any high school gymnasium.  Twice.

Ever since Lisa’s prissy tea party when Camille said “IT”, she and Taylor have been on the outs.  Despite numerous texts and unanswered phone calls, Camille has had very little communication with Taylor, and they have not yet discussed the abuse allegations which were spit out all over the scone tray that infamous afternoon.  Up until Camille let it rip, none of the ‘Wives have ever really confronted Taylor about Russell and whether he did or didn’t or does or doesn’t…you know.

Before she even arrives in the limo with Kyle, Taylor is a mess.  Now I don’t claim to have a Dr. Phil degree on my wall, but it is pretty clear on the ride down the highway that this is about a whole lot more than just Camille laying it all on the table.  When Taylor can’t get through a 24 hour period without melting down, then someone should be waving a red flag out the sunroof.

All the girls start arriving in a caravan of limos, because we certainly wouldn’t want to carpool in this time of economic uncertainty and resource conservation.  Not in Beverly Hills, Dahling.

Lisa and Kim are no shows.  Lisa was just being Lisa, and we already knew that Kim had another load of laundry to do.  But there were enough random second string friends to fill the seats.

Camille brought  a couple of her homegirls, including bff DD whose main goals appear to be protecting Camille from anyone who dares hurt her (…insert weekly Kelsey Grammer smack talk here…) and to get her own face on the opening credits by next season.  Even on the ride to Malibu DD is egging Camille on to go for it with Taylor.  Talk it out or punch it out, bitches.  Just discussing everything Camille has gone through gets DD dramatically emotional.

Dial it down, girlfriend.  You’re no Susan Lucci.

So basically we now have a high strung Taylor, a desperate to be accepted Brandi, an uncomfortable Camille and an open bar all in one room.  Again, I ask…what could possibly go wrong?

The location Brandi chose was gorgeous, and the ocean views were breathtaking.

Not so much for Brandi’s see through dress, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Kyle.

Now I don’t know if it was just laying around the room like a party favor, or Kyle never leaves home without one, but somehow she gets her hands on a laser pointer and zeroes in on Brandi’s headlights like she was presenting a Power Point lecture on white trash hooters.

After filling their tanks with booze, they all get their Belly Dance on.  Sorta.

Then the whole thing just goes down hill.

And outside.  And back inside.  And then outside again.

The whole party needed to have one of those onscreen digital countdown tickers like they do in Action films before a bomb goes off, because something was definitely about to explode.

Taylor can not deal with the “gravity of the situation”, and pretty much talks in code for the majority of the evening as she dings around the house like a spazzy pinball.  DD gets all up in Taylor’s face who wants to talk to Camille, and then doesn’t, and then does again.

Camille doesn’t want drama, and tries to shut up DD as she pushes Taylor’s buttons.

Taylor starts to crack again, and as noted previously, there are only so many times you can glue that thing back together and still make all the pieces fit.

Kyle tries to break everybody up.  Adrienne tries to break everybody up.  Things get loud.

And.  Then.  Taylor.  Loses.  It.

If you didn’t know any of the back story or how the whole Russell story actually ends up, it would be classic soap opera drama.  Hysteria, screaming and the kind of crying where you can’t catch your breath.

But you know the real deal, and you’ve already read the last chapter, so it’s kind of sad and you feel a little guilty for watching someone completely break apart in front of your eyes.

I really wanted Dylan and Brandon to walk down the beach on their way back from the Peach Pit just to break the tension.

But like Brandi’s bra, some things just never show up when they are needed most.