DanThat'sCool!

It’s amazing. I can’t even see the hickey anymore.

I feel like the prettiest Cafeteria Lady in Beverly Hills.

Just make me tighter than that LeAnn Rimes home wrecker.

This weekend I think I’m going to look into purchasing an NBA Basketball Team.

Just a small one for starters.   Nothing too showy.  Just a little sumthin sumthin to spend my spare change on and keep me busy, because let me just say…it seems to be working for Adrienne Maloof.

I don’t even think that woman knows where…much less what…a Walmart is, because she is clearly not buying generic anything.  Though Bravo has never actually shown it on TV, you know that her toilet paper roll dispenser totally spins out $10 bills for your butt.

Seriously.  Help yourself when you tidy up, girls.

This week The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills lived up to the life style that we have associated with that city ever since Jed Clampett struck Black Gold by having a Spa Day at Adrienne’s.

Yeah.  At Adrienne’s. I know, right?

There’s a complete Spa in her home.  Somewhere in the caverns of Casa de Maloof is a full blown esthetician’s wet dream complete with a tanning booth and Star Trek laser beam facials.

Jealous much?  Every time I say I would never want to live such an ostentatious  life of excess, I get the final warning notice for my cable bill shut off date on the same day I run out of shaving cream.  So seeing tonight’s complete Spa, staffed with massage therapists and a nail tech who looked like she interns for Willy Wonka has kind of made me rethink this whole “rather be happy than rich” song I’ve been spewing all these years.

Just once I’d like to have to take an elevator to go to the bathroom.

Adrienne has me so flustered I didn’t even start at the beginning of the story.  Let’s regroup.

After the Game Night fiasco at Label Whore (“You like them?  They’re expensive Valentino…”) Dana’s home last time, the girls are definitely in need of some relaxation and a claw trim,  so Adrienne decides to hook them all up with a Spa Day.  But before the big event, for reasons way beyond me,  she has asked Lisa to put down Wonder Sissy Dog Giggy long enough to teach her how to cook a chicken.  Since she hates cooking, doesn’t know how to cook and has no intention of ever cooking anything ever, I’m not really sure why Adrienne felt the need to eat up our valuable TV time, but she did.

Lisa makes the 2 mile hike directly across the street and over the Wonderland landscaping from her home to Adrienne’s and shows her how Paula Dean would do it.  If Paula Dean was British and wore 5 inch stilettos when she gutted a chicken, that is.

Adrienne is lucky to actually find her own kitchen in that hotel of a home, much less know how to actually use it, so the whole thing immediately crumbles into the episode where Lucy and Ethel are frying chicken.

Since the kitchen is obviously based on the HGTV Design Star premise that it has to look amazing first and then possibly be functional, Adrienne has covered every appliance and cabinet in matching woodwork, which is a guarantee that she can’t find anything.  Where are the onions?  Open a door.  Whoops.  Wrong refrigerator.  Open another door.  No, that’s a mop.  Open another door.  Louboutin shoes.  I was looking for those.

And so on.

Since her husband Paul lives to inject her life with Restylane and third grade pranks, I was half expecting one of those Snake-In-A-Can things to jump out of one of the cabinets.  That would have been classic.

The only thing that Adrienne could immediately get her hands on, which was disturbing on a whole other level, were plastic surgeon gloves so she didn’t have to touch the chicken.  She knew where those were even though she couldn’t find the Morton’s Salt.  I didn’t ask.

Moving on we got a quick shot of Taylor, Kyle and Dana doing a little Brandi bashing.  After accusing NutWad Kim of doing crystal meth in the bathroom during Game Night, Brandi is not really high on anyone’s upcoming holiday greeting card list right now.  And since Dana is so desperate to learn the secret handshake that will get her into the Housewives Inner Circle, she is more than willing to drag Brandi through a little mud.

Taylor, on her second week of normalcy, tries to give Brandi a little back up by explaining that Brandi is afraid her ex-husband and that gold digger LeAnn Rimes are going to come after her kids, so anytime anyone says anything about her children she freaks out at a DEFCON One Level.  I still say Brandi’s contract stipulates that her ex and LeAnn get a jab each week.  Brandi wasn’t even in the room and they got schooled.

Everything after that was just money, and mo’ money.

Lisa and her appendage Giggy swing by royal gazillionaire Mohamed’s tasteful little shanty to see if it is a good place to hold daughter Pandora’s engagement party.

There is over the top.  And then there is Over.  The.  Top.

Think Bollywood meets Indiana Jones meets that Pussycat Dolls Slum Dog music video.  If I can’t have a bathroom elevator, then I want a room that is nothing but pillows.  A Pillow Room to entertain my friends and watch Bravo TV.  That’s when you know you’ve made it.  Or you’ve lost it.  Like crazy town lost it.

Mohamed, with his trophy girlfriend clinging to his side, walks Lisa around his place and I’m pretty sure that she and Giggy both had a little nervous pee.

There was even a sliding wall panel that led to a secret room where you could do the nasty and not get caught.  Right before they shut the wall I swear I saw that giant ball that almost rolled over Indiana Jones coming down the hallway.

Since Lisa doesn’t do Cheesecake Factory, this place will do just fine for the party.

From there it was off to Adrienne’s for a day of laser treatments and Brandi humiliation. When the girls arrived, they were all greeted by a couple of Beefcakes in tight white outfits.  (Lisa would totally hit up the Cheesecake Factory if these dudes were on the waitstaff.  They’ve already got the outfits.)  Adrienne had gotten all of the girls matching light blue robes and wedgie flip flops.  She doesn’t know where the ketchup is, but she knows all their shoe sizes.  Go figure.

When they first all changed into their spa gear and trotted single file down the hall holding strawberries and champagne, I couldn’t decide if they reminded me more of Stepford Wives in a locker room or a crazy soccer mom Gospel Choir.  Still haven’t decided.

Everything else was either exfoliation, Brandi bashing or Adrienne showing off her wealth.  One machine cost $30,000.  Thirty.  I had a fit when Neiman’s raised the price of my coconut scrub, and these women are getting the top layer buzzed off by a $30,000 machine.  That’s just wrong.

Before it got too intense, Kyle and Kim snuck off and found a trampoline in the backyard.  While Kyle did a little jump or two and called it a day, Kim flopped all over that thing like a fish that just fell off the line and hit the dock.  She flipped and splatted and generally face planted across the trampoline like it was her day job.

That women is cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

Once everyone was back inside, it was Brandi against the World.

Adrienne tried to play Peacemaker and get Kyle to listen to Brandi’s half hearted apology.  Kim called Kyle a traitor for even thinking about it.  Camille, who doesn’t really have much to do now that Kelsey is outta here, ate a lot and got schoolgirl giddy whenever one of the Beefcakes walked by the buffet table.  She’s a pretty observant little thing, I’ll give you that.  Nothing gets by her.  And she does love her snacks and snarky comebacks.  I might join her Fan Club.

Kyle met with Brandi, but didn’t make much progress.  You don’t diss my kids, I won’t diss your hot mess sister.  Just what you would expect from the two of them.

Brandi cried and Kyle could care less.  Lisa made sure that she got in every shot, and Dana did whatever would benefit Dana most.  She’s going to get to Camille’s home in Hawaii if it kills her.

Like the final scene in a sad sports movie, we watched Brandi hobble down the hallway and out the door all alone.  Again.  While all the other Housewives giggled and rolled their eyes at how she is nothing but Trailer Park.

Still on her crutches, I was waiting for Brandi to slip on the marble and give us a real Dynasty cliffhanger.   The Beefcakes weren’t even around to get the door for her as she fumbled her way out, down the steps and into her truck with the gun rack and the “I Hate LeAnn” bumper sticker.

To top it off, she only got one flip flop for her good foot.

I’m thinking Brandi will probably pass on the next Spa Day.

You say crystal meth like it’s a bad thing, bitch.

You and your stuffed animal are going to love this wedding, Ma’am.

Oh. My. God. Am I really the normal one here?

If the week hadn’t just started, and I didn’t know it was Monday night, I would swear it was Freaky Friday.

That day when everything good is bad, everything up is down, and Taylor Armstrong and Camille Grammer are the normal sane ones.  That kind of Freaky Friday.

I’ll admit it.  I totally would have lost the bet when this roller coaster season of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills began if anyone had tweeted that those two noodles would end up being the level headed ones.  They are starting to grow on me, mostly because they are unpredictable loose canons and that makes me smile.  Deep down I still keep my fingers crossed for some major spaz to erupt from their brains, but tonight they were so normal it kind of freaked me out.

We start out at Label Whore Dana’s Game Night with all the Housewives frozen Matrix-like in their battle positions from last week.  I swear I give Dana two more episodes before she starts wearing her clothes inside out so everyone else can read the labels.

We get it.  Valentino.  Now pull your pants back up.

Brandi had just put her one good foot deep into her own mouth and called out Kim as a crystal meth addict.  Granted Kim puts on lipstick like she held her pipe in the same hand, and the side effects of meth read like her Facebook page description, but until we actually get real proof I don’t think I would have gone there, girlfriend.  Kim drinks a lot, and Bravo keeps shoving  last season’s infamous “You’re an alcoholic!” limousine flashback down our throats, but they have yet to film her coming out of the corner liquor store in her pajamas…so innocent until proven guilty.

Sister Kyle, who rolls back and forth on their relationship like that one annoying soup can that falls out of the grocery bag in your car trunk on the way home, chose the family side on this one and got all up in Brandi’s face.

It was a page right out of Bravo’s How To Have A Bitch Fight Like NeNe Even Though You’re A White Girl manual as fingers got to waggin’ and the three of them got all up in each other’s grill, screamed a bunch and busted out my new favorite under pressure and can’t think of anything else insult:  Slut Pig.

Brandi threatened to kill Kyle if she talked about her trailer park son who took a whiz on Adrienne’s backyard.  Kim managed to stand up on her own and pretty much poked out Brandi’s eyeball before Taylor stepped in to pull them apart.  Knowing that this was filmed awhile ago, and that there are still persistent rumors out there that Russell Armstrong was violent towards his wife, it got a little uncomfortable when Taylor broke them apart and flipped out that no one was touching anyone.  And no one hits.  And no one gets hurt anymore.  Another red flag that the world missed.

Since Brandi is still wearing that cast after falling off her own Louboutins and that whacky mischievous Kim had hidden her crutches, she plops back down in her comfy chair while all the other Mean Girls pack up and call it an early night.  (For all of Kim’s bragging, the crutches were only sitting behind the chair.  How long did it take her to come up with that top secret location?)

Dana, who would almost…almost…stop talking designer labels if it would guarantee admission into the Housewives Inner Circle, has to play both sides.  Apparently, her answer to all the country’s problems, from the budgetary crisis to smack talking Slut Pigs is to go immediately to Camille’s home in Hawaii.  I lost track of how many times she hinted around about that one again, even during the throw down.  Let’s do it.  We need a healthy vacation.  My grass skirt is by Marc Jacobs.  The usual.

The episode must have come up a little short in the editing room, because we got treated to an extended scene where Adrienne and her color coordinated blouse are walking across the street to Lisa’s home.  What would take a normal human being in a normal neighborhood about 27 seconds to accomplish, took Adrienne about 20 minutes as we got the tour of her massive winding walk way and Edward Scissorhands sculpted greenery.  Don’t get me wrong.  I would love to be that filthy rich.  I’m not gonna lie.  But if you have to pack a lunch just to make the trek across the street, I’d at least get a scooter.

Not be outdone of course, and in keeping with the Neighborhood Association’s required Johnny Depp landscaping theme, Lisa’s front yard looks exactly like the box set DVD of Alice in Wonderland.  If you pause your DVR I swear you’ll see the Cheshire Cat scooping up Giggy’s poo.

The whole thing was accompanied by the same song that I think was in the first Muppets movie.  Yeah, it was a complete waste of quality TV time, but was totally like (allegedly) doing meth with Kim.

Pretty colors.

After all that the whole point of the trip over was to meet up with Kyle and Lisa to discuss the Game Night throw down that we just watched.  Seriously?  I could have gotten another snack and not missed anything but the Rabbit going down the hole in Lisa’s yard.  What a rip.

Freaky Friday Taylor meets up with Brandi to talk about straight hair and relationships.  The only thing we got out of that scene was that Brandi eats like a pig.  Did you hear all the food she ordered up?  I’m thinking the leg with the cast on it might be hollow.

Kim and Kyle and all their kids pack up to go to Palm Desert.  They are taking a little chill time in their childhood home, which their Mother gave to them when she passed away.  Kyle scoffed it up and bought out Kim for $20K or something and instantly stuck her name on the mailbox.  Kim wants to buy back in but Kyle won’t let her.  Mine.  All mine.

The trip itself was pretty uneventful, except for a Klassic Kim moment when she finds out that she has been squirting air freshener into her mouth for weeks, thinking it was breath spray.  Say wha–?!

Brandi is starting to sound a little more insightful all of the sudden, because I don’t ever remember seeing Fresh Laundry Breeze breath mints in aisle 5 at my local CVS.  Maybe it was an honest mistake, since Kim seems to have a power failure at her home every episode this season.  Maybe it was just dark.

Or maybe she just likes the taste of Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs in her mouth.  The label does kind of make it look like food, I guess.

I don’t know.  I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to stick up for her.

Then suddenly, with two snaps up and a circle, the show is in WorkItGirl mode.

Lisa hires wedding planner Kevin Lee to work on daughter Pandora’s Big Event, now that she is finally no longer going to be living in sin and denying Lisa grandchildren.

Let’s just say Kevin is a sashay sushi bowl full of Fabulous, bitches.

Clutching Uber Sissy Dog Giggy under her arm, Lisa gives Kevin a tour of VanderpumpLand, and he nearly blacks out.  His brain is going on overload, and he has a glitter TrapperKeeper full of ideas for the wedding.  Ideas which are usually reserved for Mardi Gras floats and Provincetown Drag Nights.  Lisa is not a big fan when he suggests a $5 Million wedding and Giggy, who has seen it all I’m sure, suddenly develops this odd nervous twitch that was either brought on by Lisa crushing his windpipe or by merely being in the presence of Bruce Lee’s gay clone.

Check the video tapes.  Giggy was either having a seizure or trying to jump and end it all before he has to start wearing those Holiday onesies with the antlers.

Freaky Monday/Friday started to wind down with Camille and her ginormous walk-in closet.  Gi. Normous.  Either that, or she owns a store that we didn’t know about.

Either way, she is getting ready for a Charity Event which she has organized for Cancer research.  She was so normal and put together that I bet even Kelsey was  second guessing some of his decisions.  Camille’s Mom is a survivor, and they were both getting a little trophy at the event.  Her Mom is too cute.

Brandi had previously been invited, and since Beverly Hills women and Andy Cohen never UNinvite anyone, she showed up and hobbled over to the Bravo table.  Kyle got a little schoolgirl attitude and whispered to Lisa all night.  The fact that Brandi thought Winston Churchill was a black man seems to be the funniest thing they have ever heard, and they can’t let it go.  As much as they dislike Brandi, they are in love with her stupidity.

They finished us off with Adrienne and Kim doing what I guess was their version of the Suburban Mom PowerWalk.

Instead of hand weights they had big bangles and money in their pockets, and instead of Kohl’s sweats they were styling in designer track suits.

And instead of power walking, they would take two steps, talk a little, and then take two more.

They must be training for the VanderpumpLand triathlon.

First one to make it around the entire home, tennis courts included, gets a prize and tea with the Mad Hatter.

The End.