REAL HOUSEWIVES OF BEVERLY HILLS – 10/31/11

With the MIL stashed away in recovery, the Omanskys (Portia in tow dressed as Rachel Zoe, and she’s just cute enough to pull off the fur vest without making me frown in complete disapproval – merely partial) roll up chez Armstrong for a cozy double date. Tay’s [still unpaid] help appears to be braising short ribs, cleaning shrimp, and grilling white asparagus before materializing at the Gorga’s dining room table with cumbersome looking cioppino. I have an entertaining rule that food should make people feel at home and at ease, rather than awkward and uncomfortable, but perhaps that’s why my physique is more Ina Garten than Giada Di Laurentiis. But that’s beside the point because we’ve finally broken the seal and RUSSELL IS HERE!!! Oh, God, this is so awful. The man’s dead, it’s Halloween, and I really can’t even talk about it, so let’s focus on Kyle’s flashy 1980’s epaulets for a moment while I gather myself. ———–

OK. { deep breath } Seems the Armstrongs are distressed watching the Omanskys eat and love each other openly because US Weekly has a new paragraph saying they, the Armstrongs, have separated. Shocking, shocking news. And Russell is certain that Lisa must be the source of this information because (a) she’s friends with US’s editor, and (b) she’s so close to Tay that she’d know. Because they are obviously still together so she’s obviously wrong, so obviously it’s someone pretend close to them who’s wrong, right? Russell’s going to sue and make US reveal their source. I think Russell and now his extended family should get a little more up to speed on media torts before they expend cash getting all litigious, but that’s just my opinion.

This has been icky, so let’s get to the business end of things and bolt over to The Pumps where we’re getting ready for Moh’s Orgy! And where’s Mr. Lisa? God only knows, but we don’t know where Max is either. Lisa is worried he’s not coming and wants Pandora to remind him that he’s part of this family, too. Not if his adult adoption is finalized he’s not. Lord, everything in that house is either pink, pink-tinged crème, or reflective. Lovely, really, if vaginal. I can’t believe I said that. But it’s true.

But now here’s Max, with his fauxhawk! If one of my beautiful boys showed up anywhere looking like he had a docile squirrel sitting on his head I promise you Barber Dave and I would have that taken care of before commercial was over. It takes a village, people, and Barber Dave is my personal Bernie the Enforcer when it comes to keeping my kids in line. Pair-A-Dice Barbers, Wrightstown & Pantano. DO NOT MESS.

Good goddamn! Between Lisa and Pandy we’ve got some whopping bazooms being held back by mere gossamers of thread. It’s going to be a lucky thing if we get through the night without having the hounds unleashed. Pandy’s got a “LOOK WHERE I AM POINTING” drippy diamond necklace accenting her cleave before Mommy even gifts her with the special “Remember One Thing” diamonte heart. Which she then puts on ON TOP of the traffic signal, because that looks extra klassy. Oh, how sentimental. Yes, Mommy loves her. “What about ME?!” screams Mr. Lisa, his wig askew. Lisa glares at him to shut it until the next birthday. Mr. Lisa shows her what’s what by handing the improbably-named Jason his most recent birthday gift. YICK. Let’s get the hell out of here!