So it’s over…in a big fizzle, pop, pop, glug kind of way, we call it a day on this the first season of the Housewives of the Hills of Beverly. Did anything happen? Well yes and no… we kinda figured out what the hell is wrong with Kim, Taylor truly is a horrible person, Cedric is THIRTY SEVEN?!, Camille has to be doing handfuls of Klonipin and Xanax, Lisa’s..well still Lisa, and Adrienne made herself more useful than an end table for a change.
Kyle is the big question mark here…so let’s start this recap with her.
Kyle went to see her psychic, and well…brought her mother along. Only her mother is in a velvet wrapped box. Ok, fine. A little creepy, but whatever. I don’t understand why the psychic needs “Mom in a Box” and the lock of hair, (ok THAT’s creepy) to get a reading…but again, the hell do I know? And if this psychic knew what was up, she would have said, “You will go bananas on your sister and bum rush her in a limo.” This is what I’ll never understand about psychics. Hell, I can be vague and figure out your family dynamic enough to predict what’s going to happen for $39.95 a minute. Rich people are stoopid.
Anyway, we got the big vague premonition that shiz was going to get real pretty soon. Cue the dramatic music.
In other news of things billed as dramatic that really…well...aren’t… freshly returned to the human race, Camille, is sadsies over her dirtbag husband shacking up with a flight attendant and giving her the ol’ heave ho. Poor Camille, the whole “Mrs. Grammer” thing was heartbreaking. What keeps bugging me is the whole “cold fish” thing about the woman. Now, I’m a stoic kinda gal that doesn’t really get emotional, but you can bet your sweet nickels that if the doorman of my apartment said I wasn’t Mrs. Grammer, that the REAL Mrs. Grammer was living there. I would first get out my ID and close my fist around it to punch the guy in the throat with a little, “Say my name!” thrown in…then marched my butt right upstairs to rip the weave outta the ‘real’ Mrs. Grammer. But that’s just me. You know her friend Dierdre was totally thinking that. Wow. Girlfriend was more pained than Camille in that whole exchange. Camille just kind of made a pained face and sighed a lot. Yay, meds, I guess…
So now that Camille’s not the worst person ever, guess who is? Oh yeah… TAYLOR. I realized last night that she looks just like Carol Channing, doesn’t she? That mouth of hers looks like a denture commercial.
Anyway, Taylor the Horrible, has decided that instead of killing the birthday present her daughter really liked more than an ostentatious birthday party, with her bare hands while screaming, “Russell! Why do you love Kennedy more, Russell! Where’s MY puppy, Russell?! Why can’t you ever VALIDATE ME, RUSSEL???” And after an exhausting three weeks of blowing dust in Kennedy’s face and rubbing her with grass clippings in her sleep; poor Kennedy’s allergies to the HYPO ALLERGENIC 4lb puppy are just too much, so her pretend friend, Moxie Ferfflenutter is going to take Snowball off her hands.
If you’ll turn to page 34 of the “Dina Lohan Guide to Awful Narcissistic Parenting” you will see that this is where Taylor got the brilliant, Mensa qualified idea that the puppy will just vanish during the family trip to Mexico, because Kennedy will be not as attached and it’ll just be swell. Because four year olds are like goldfish…their minds simply reset every three minutes.
Gaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhdddddd….she is just simply horrible. I need to take a break before I talk about her again.
Let’s talk about Lisa.
So Lisa and Jeeves are trying to unload their French Grifter, Cedric, and he’s making his big brown puppy dog eyes at them like it’s a fate worse than death to live on his own. Like these two are shipping him UPS back to his dirty phone booth in Paris with a couple cans of Fancy Feast. Good Lord…
Then we find out he’s 37!!! Well no wonder Jeeves is like, “eff him..” THIRTY SEVEN. Thirty. Seven. 3-7. Trienta y Siete. Trente-Sept. XXXVII. Well, that changes everything. Get the hell out, Cedric.
Over at Villa Blanca, Lisa thinks Taylor is a horrible person too, so she calls her out on her BS back in New York that started the whole Grammer v. Richards: Hell on Earth thing. Of course Taylor starts that laughing nonsense of hers…
“Oh hahahaha….I stirred the pot…hahaha….ending friendships and business partnerships….hahahaha”
I think had there not been cameras there, Lisa would have reached across the table and smacked Taylor upside the head.
“Stop laughing, you little shiz stirrer, you got Camille all worked up and started that fight, and it’s time to make amends.”
And blah, blah, blah Taylor’s word salad comes dribbling out about how it’s all Kim’s fault. Lisa gives that knowing glance about Kim and says, “make peace with her dahling…”
So here’s where it gets good.
Nerd is throwing Taylor a 74th 39th birthday party like someone is holding a gun to his head, and everyone gets all fancied up for the occasion. Adrienne busts out the glitter weave, Kyle stuffs herself into a lycra bondage dress straight out of a 1992 2 Live Crew video, Kim just looks a hot mess in some kind of one shoulder deal and some hideous antique jewelry, Taylor’s wearing her best Hefty Bag dress, and Lisa is rocking her usual Dynasty in the new millenium look.
So boring, boring, boring, eating, dancing, boring, Kim may or may not be drunk, boring, boring, boring…Until Taylor walks up to Kim…
“You and me, NOW” Causing Kim’s friend, Melody, to scream, grab her purse, and run for her life.
“Listen bitch, you are nuts and Lisa wanted me to come over here and tell you that you are off your freaking rocker. You got me all riled up at the airport, and made me stir the pot with Camille.”
Kim just kinda stood there all doe eyed, then the Jack Daniels kicked in, and it was some nonsensical stuff about Kyle, and blah, blah, blah…
Kyle with her bat hearing, knows when her name is said from 500 yards away, because that’s how all insecure people are, and as soon as Kim gets “Ky—” out of her mouth, she’s swooping down like a fly on poop.
Soon it’s all the Housewives vs. Kim and she’s just a mess under pressure. She’s pointing and saying stupid things, and Kyle with the help of Taylor the Horrible are just piling on. Which, screw the Bravo editing monkeys at this point, because you can tell there was soooo much edited out, that none of it was making a shred of sense. Did they really want Kim to have a victim edit like this? Because it’s working…Kyle looks like a grade A A-hole.
So Kim runs into a limo with Gov-nah Martin and Adrienne. Adrienne was the only one making a shred of sense. Not the time or the place. You don’t argue with crazy/drunk people and you don’t air your family’s dirty laundry in public justifying your crazy manic wildebeast behavior. Kim may be a drunk, but she did the sanest thing and left to take a time out. She didn’t run into a moving limo then try to murder someone in the back seat.
I do feel sorry for Kim. And I understand that there is probably a lot more going on behind closed doors that might be driving Kyle bonkers. Kim is still emotionally 12 years old and has a lot of demons, and Kyle’s a bit of a sanctimonious bizzatch for turning out not as messed up. Like “I may have problems but at least I’m not YOU”…
Anyway, back to the limo…
Kim’s screeching, Kyle’s screeching, Martin’s thinking about a brothel he once visited in Singapore, Adrienne is desperately looking for an escape hatch.
“You stole my house!!!”
“Take that back, you take that back! My husband supports you like you’re a second wife!”
“You’re so FAKE, Kyle”
“Maybe I should quit protecting you. Mom had to go ahead and DIE worrying about you and leaving me to deal with your crap”
“Whatever, Kyle. You’re such a liar.”
And like a wombat, Kyle flies across the limo, “Die you alcoholic wench! See? Now everyone knows, what the holy hell on everything sacred is wrong with Kim?! She’s a drunk! A lush! A boozehound!”
Gee thanks, Kyle, you’re swell. No really, way to gut your sister on national TV. Well done. Doing that fixed everything. Really.
Adrienne throws a couple of blocks since she’s used to breaking up brawls with her three preschool boys, Martin is still thinking of that brothel with Kyle’s butt in his face…if only the Richards girls would have brought “Mom in a Box.” That would’ve fixed everything. Momma Richards would know what to do. She’d give Kyle a hug, tell her she’s her good girl, and tell Kim to ‘get back to work, momma needs a Caddy.’ Cuz that’s how problems were always solved. Momma Richards always had the answers.
And so it ends here in Beverly Hills…for now anyway. Not exactly the warm fuzzy finales we’re accustomed to. No barbecue at Jeana Keough’s, no big family dinner at the Brownstone, no weddings…just a bunch of sad soul-less women being…well…sad and soul-less. To quote Weezer:
Truth is…I don’t stand a chance
It’s something that you’re born into..
And I just don’t belong..
Bet they didn’t know how true that was when they wrote, “Beverly Hills”
Read more: http://www.chicagonow.com/blogs/reality-zen-with-jenn/#ixzz1Bi4VnJFW