Hot in Cleveland just got a lot colder with the arrival of Heather Dubrow on this week’s episode of Real Housewives of Orange County. Yes, the former sitcom star (or perhaps appear-er) made her triumphant return to THE STAGE with a guest role on the TV Land sitcom seemingly tailored for her. Heather played some lady who was hellbent on landing a gig on The Real Housewives of Tampa, which of course is fictional — and yet I’d watch it.
Nevertheless, the whole gang headed up to LA for the second week in a row. This is like when black bears invade suburbia and everyone panics. I truly fear an infestation. Maybe we should erect a fence on the Orange Couny line. Sounds cruel, but you know 75% of the county voted to barricade Mexico; so they should be fine with it.
Anyway, Heather did just fine in her guest gig, and in the end, all was well with her and Terry (not to mention Vicki and Tamra, who seemed to lightly bury the hatch). In other news, Lauri Waring Peterson emerged from her money crypt to tell Tamra that she didn’t like Vicki anymore. Slade, meanwhile, surprised Gretchen with a very special birthday present: a new Rolls-Royce! And wait, there was a second surprise: Gretchen would have to pay for it! Oh, and a third surprise: it’s only a lease! Gentleman of the year!
I never trust entrepreneurial endeavors spawned from The Real Housewives (although, I did enjoy Ramona Pinot Grigio). However, I always enjoy their ridiculousness. Nothing will ever top Sonja’s mystery toaster oven, and few will be as iconic as She By Shereé. However, in a world where Cafface, Gretchen Christine Beauté, and Gigi’s Extensions are a thing (and yes, I realize that’s from Shahs of Sunset), one shouldn’t be surprised that we now have both Wine By Wives AND Vicki’s Vodka. The latter business hails from Vicki Gunvalson of The Real Housewives of Orange County, and call me crazy, but I never realized vodka was her “thing.” I mean, at least Ramona Pinot Grigio stemmed from Ramona’s much documented love of Pinot. Vicki’s Vodka seems to only be a curious biproduct of alliteration. It’s as if Vicki merely scanned a list of consumer goods starting with “V” and chose her favorite option. This leads me to believe that Vicki’s Veal is just around the corner, perhaps to be followed by Vicki’s Violin Repair or maybe Vicki’s Vaginal Rejuvenation.
Nevertheless, most of the cast headed up to Malibu for some wine tasting because, as Tamra explained, Napa and Temecula were so played out. Yes, the last thing we need is more Temecula dominance of the wine scene, am I right? Listen, I’ve been to wine tastings in Temecula. It’s certainly scenic. But the wine is shit. I mean, imagine a bunch of wineries run by Jim Bellino. That’s what Temecula wine country is. I swear to God, one of the wineries I went to was so overrun by gargoyles and griffins that I immediately turned around and left (opting for the “classier” European “village” just up the hill. Yes, a lot of air quotes, but this is Temecula we’re talking about. If you don’t use air quotes, then you have a problem).
Not much happened on the latest episode of Real Housewives of Orange County. We met Lydia’s kooky mom, who might actually be the first mother on these shows to be more age-appropriate as a cast-member than her actual daughter. A former hippie turned fairy dust enthusiast, Lydia’s mom was definitely something of a character, and interestingly enough, she actual shed some light on Lydia’s personality. It turns out this woman spent the majority of her life stoned, and because of that, Lydia sought structure in religion. Dare I say it was a nearly fascinating revelation? Maybe that’s going too far. Nevertheless, I find Lydia’s brand of devoutness to be far more informed than Alexis’s, which doesn’t seem to stem from curiosity but rather what Jim has ordered her to believe.
In other news, Heather continues to rebrand herself as the most humorless cast member on the show. After having landed a role on Hot in Cleveland, she went out to dinner with her fam and then proceeded to pick a fight with her husband, which she then promptly blamed on him. I’m not sure that Heather has as much of a stick up her ass as a giant, corinthian column from the Parthenon. She’s making me hate her, and I always liked her. Stop it! (Meanwhile, I’m loving Lydia).
CUT Fitness is off to a great start! Yes, The Real Housewives of Orange County put the fit in fitness this week when Tamra had a disastrous launch event of sorts in the future home of her exercise studio. The problems began when Vicki asked if she could invite Tamra’s new arch-nemesis Alexis to the event, and claiming to be caught off guard, Tamra had said yes. Well, she soon regretted her decision to allow Jesus Jugs into her facility, and perhaps for good reason. It wasn’t long before Alexis began squawking about feeling “boolied,” a term that sent smoke out of the ears of Tamra, Gretchen, and Heather. This inevitably led to screaming, pointing, and Tamra’s much publicized ejection of Lady Bellino. It was certainly an explosive end to an episode, but just as noteworthy was the awkward and tense build up, which featured the women sitting around on couches, barely containing their rage. Basically, we were one Andy Cohen short of an actual reunion.
At least we had Lydia, who sweetly attempted to spur on some light conversation, but her attempts were thwarted by Gretchen, who replied with curt, bitchy remarks (usually supported by a nasty glare from Heather and Tamra). It was awful. And yet… awesome. This was one warehouse party I could defiitely get behind.
Well, it’s springtime, which means one thing: allergies. And who better to personify itchy eyes and stuffy noses than The Real Housewives of Orange County. Yes, our favorite trashy blondes are back, and this time we have a new face: Vicki’s! The grand doyenne of housewifes has plumped up her chin, adjusted her eyes, and generally moved her face into a vaguely Joan-van-Ark territory (with a dash of Mickey Rourke). To Vicki’s credit though, she’s been totally upfront and proud of her surgery; so I really can’t ding her too much… even if she does leave me with horrific nightmares.
As for other new faces, we met also Lydia McLaughlin — an airy, seemingly sweet and goofy Christian girl with a handsome husband and a voice that would grate Jennifer Tilly. The jury’s still out on whether or not she’s awful, but so far, Lydia appears to be generally harmless. I mean all we really know about her is that she likes boats, lemon drops, and Jesus. And she seems to have the motor skills of one of those dashboard hula dancers. Nevertheless, I’m sure she’ll turn into a monster (just look at Heather, who has blossomed into an insufferable shrew in her second season).
Well, the Real Housewives of Atlanta kicked off yet another raucous reunion this week, and to the surprise of no one in particular, it wound up being the Kenya Moore show. That’s pretty much the way it’s been all season, and Kenya did not disappoint (unless we’re talking about all aspects of her personal and professional career, in which case, yes, she most likely has disappointed everyone in her life). With a fan in place and many sneers at her disposal, Kenya once again brandished her overly-deliberate psycho bitch persona, and while it’s such a patently obvious play for camera time, I can’t help but be entertained by it. Hey, it’s like watching professional wrestling: we know it’s fake; so, why not go along for the ride? And yes, I do truly believe the spirit of Andre the Giant carries on with these ladies (if not the fashion sense).
The big topics of this first hour mostly revolved around Kenya. There was Kenya vs. Porsha, Kenya vs. Phaedra, and Kenya vs. any semblance of sanity. Most of the squabbling went in one ear and out the other, but big ups to Phaedra who managed one of the best lines of the night: “Single white female, black delusional Kenya.” Along the way there was a nifty awkward moment as Porsha defended her now defunct marriage. Plus, we enjoyed a small tiff between Kandi and Nene, who took the time to revive their annual “You’re mean to me / I’m just sharing my opinion / Well, it’s mean / Well, I’m sorry. I never intended it to be mean” argument. All fun times.
Next week, the return of Kim. C’mon wig! But until then, check out the photocap after the jump…
Well, The Rachel Zoe Project is back, and I’m proud to report that the show still manages to cram absolutely nothing in the span of an hour. For the big season premiere, we watched Rachel obsess about orchids, obsess about bangs, obsess about Prabal Gurung, obsess about her androgynous child, obsess about figurative hats, and obsess about bangs some more. Along the way, she prepped for her first big fashion show — all while attending various events for Oscar De La Renta, Michael Kors, and Marchesa, the latter of whom she struggled to find in the hustle and bustle of Grand Central train station. This of course led to many panicked moments of “omg. Where is Marchesa? Where is the Marchesa show?” as if Rachel herself had been transported to the remote corners of Bangladesh.
In terms of supporting players, we once again saw Mandana (who I had forgotten all about), but fan-favorite Jeremiah was nowhere to be found (we were told that he’d since departed). Professional hanger-on Joey emerged for a brief cameo, and even Brad Goreski popped up… and was promptly ignored by Rachel, who instead lavished a hug on nearby Andy Cohen (oddly making a cameo on the show he produces). Meanwhile, Rodger remains as whiney as ever, but now with worse hair. The guy has attempted to grow his hair out, but the resultant shag is like a terrible Reality Bites nightmare from the mid-90s. Just when we thought he couldn’t be any more annoying…
Are those croissants I smell? Or just the crusty remnants of a day-old baguette on Kim’s breath? It can only mean one thing: The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills have gone to Paris! Yes, it’s trip time on RHOBH, and unfortunately for us, you could have found more drama in a Molière play (get it? Because Molière wrote COMEDY. IN FRENCH). The big deal this week was that Kim continued to slur her words and ramble like a sunny homeless lady, and that naturally made everyone think she was drunk again. Inferences were made, questionable jokes cracked, and in the end, Kim wound up crying to her sister in that classic we-shouldn’t-be-laughing-but-we-are way that we’ve come to adore.
Eventually we learned that Kim had taken drugs, but the sort of drugs that keep you sober (seems a bit counter-intuitive, but mmmkay), and in the end, she got a free bag from MAURICE; so all was good. Oh, and Kyle complained to Lisa that she felt there was still tension between them, and Lisa tried her best not to chuck her ass off the Eiffel Tower. C’EST DOMMAGE.
One of the worst shows to land on Bravo in ages has to be Vanderpump Rules, but unlike those legions of terrible and forgettable series like Mis/Advised or LOLwork, this vile turd is so bad it actually has become fun to watch. Now I’m not an ironic TV viewer — I don’t generally tune in to something awful simply to mock it. If I’m ridiculing something, I tend to enjoy it at some base level.
However, Vanderpump Rules is so loathsome, I couldn’t help but immerse myself in it. Even worse, I’ve become invested in it. I wouldn’t say that I care about any of the vapid servers at SUR, the tacky restaurant that provides the backdrop for this show. It’s more that I’m fascinated to see actual Mean Girls doing what they do best: instill fear in the weak, inspire hostility in the equally matched, and divide and conquer the rest. The intrigue stems not from whether Jax and Stassi might reunite but rather from the always looming possibility that someone might please, please put these idiots in their place (spoiler alert: it never seems to happen).
By the time we wound up at the reunion this week, we’d amassed so much deplorable behavior from the entire cast, that it was a minor joy seeing these kids face the stinky bullshit they’d been tossing around. Some people, like professional doofus Jax, caught plenty of heat for questionable, if not downright sleazy choices. However, others like queen B Stassi seemed to only get a light slap on the wrists. Not fair, I say! Luckily, the thrashing Stassi’s surely receiving on the Internet will more than make up for Andy Cohen’s lack of needling. And I’m only too happy to participate!
How much do I love Downton Abbey? Let me count the ways. Or actually, just take my word for it. I love everything about this series — from the dialogue to the acting to the characters to the cinematography. That’s why it’s rather shocking that I only now caught up to the latest episode (heavens!). Due to a time crunch caused by various external events, I’ve been tragically behind on this season, which meant I couldn’t do any photocaps. Thankfully though, I’m all up to speed now, and my photocapping can happily resume. Feels good to be back. Let’s just hope there aren’t any shocking soup scandals to derail me once again. My my!