Kyle and Feige – O God, she’s back! – roll up to some wholesale mannequin warehouse to pick out dummies for the new store Kyle is opening. It seems she did a book appearance at some store, decided she liked it, and is partnering with them to open a branch in BH. Feige, having been “found by design” 18 years ago, is going to contrive the look of this establishment. Did you know they make mannequins in not just the customary creamy nude but also bright colors and metallics? Some with normal looking boobs, some with droops (I think those may have been men), some with implants. And some are designed and posed specifically for adult superstores, and it’s just as the ladies are assessing one female dummy mounting another that my six-year-old son bursts into the TV room with a bloody nose and says “whoa, what’s THAT?”. Now I appreciate why Bravo insists on starting RHOBH at 10 p.m. The gals leave with a dismembered mannequin in the back seat of Kyle’s convertible, torso on one side, legs sticking up out the other, and I hope that load is properly tied down. “Is this Beverly Hay-ells Chihuahua 2?” asks my son. Feige does look a bit like an ad for dog grooming today.
New friends The Glands and Marisa are headed out to dinner with Marisa’s husband Dean and brother Paul. The Glands is in her usual super-tight dress and Marisa, who so far is always dressed differently than I think she should be for the occasion at hand, is wearing a white silk slipdress and I am so happy to see that someone in this town has their own factory-installed boobs still! Dean is wearing a hoodie under his blazer over a plaid shirt, because he’s cold and is also a producer of independent films, much to the chagrin of his wife who wishes he would do big studio films like his parents who among other things produced “Driving Miss Daisy”. I also see from Dean’s dad’s obituary that Dean and dad co-produced “Road to Perdition”, which is nothing shabby, but Marisa seems underwhelmed nonetheless. The Glands asks Marisa if she wants to go to Vegas next week for some beginning stripper class she’s teaching, and Marisa would love to go so she can sleep alone. Dean looks tweaked. I don’t blame him.
Back at The Glands’ craphouse, she’s feeding the doggies some nasty wet stuff and calls Kyle up with cans in her hair to make sure Kyle will be okay if they see each other at some guy named Daniel Maltzman’s gallery opening. Kyle’s good with it so The Glands pops into another tube and hops over with her best girl Jennifer from Celebrity Rehab. Jennifer is wearing green and my son wonders if this is who I was for Halloween (no, in fact this year I was Teresa Guidice in her reunion Christmas tree dress, and my costume got a totally unwarranted “boo” from Denise Richards and some Braxton in the “Boo or Woo” Halloweave contest on WWHL that evening. This makes me 2-for-2 on Halloweave appearances, I just want to point out!). Isn’t that nose done bleeding yet? You know who else is wearing green but Lisa in my favorite green blouse with green shades, no green nails because she’s not like that. Marisa’s in a white lacy sundress (again, where are we? in a garden? an ad for tampons?) and Yo’s in a tight nude lingerie looking thing that matches her concealer-worn-as-lipstick.
Yo immediately spots a painting of two figures standing stick straight, staring straight ahead and completely ignoring each other. She declares it “very romantic” and must have it, but not for the $14K selling price. She works the gallerist/painter over and takes it for $8K, and he will never sell a painting for full price again. Sucker. Meanwhile, Kyle swans in wearing a Teresa Guidice headband for no apparent reason. Now that’s just stupid. The Glands asks her to go to Vegas for stripper class and she’d love to come. Tay can’t go because she has “people” flying in from Denver to film a PSA (I almost typed “POS”, Freudian slip) on domestic violence. If anyone in the greater Denver area has seen a PSA on domestic violence featuring Taylor Armstrong I’d love to hear about it. Will Lisa come? Yeah, sure, why not. She swings, she can pole.
Mr. Lisa takes a photo wherein he is the nipple-high meat in the Amazon-lady sandwich, and if there was ever a cat that ate the canary it is Mr. Lisa. He resists the urge to motorboat the triplets like only a well-raised Brit can. We have an appearance by Paris Hilton in a Rainbow Brite costume which is only interesting because in the first two seasons of RHOBH Paris conspicuously ditched the several family-wide events to which she was invited, probably because she thought it would be slumming. How the mighty have fallen, not that she wants you to know that because she’s pretending she closed for JLo before 30,000 people the night before and Kyle is pretending TMZ asked her about it. Maybe this is true, I don’t know, I just don’t really buy it and don’t care anyway.
Marisa shares with The Glands that she’s sort of bored with her husband and doesn’t think he’s sexy. It seems they met at 20, married at 25, had a baby right away, and now she’s wondering what she missed out on at 35. Is there life out there, as Reba McEntire would say? Watch what you wish for, girl! The Glands thinks Dean loves Marisa more than Marisa loves Dean. This is not going to end well.
On the menfolk side, Mauricio brings Mr. Lisa a bottle of some sort of gin as some sort of unexpressed gesture of apology. Mr. Lisa is perplexed, and no he doesn’t want to taste it because he’s leaving for dinner at the Sunset Tower with his wife, who herself appears to think Mauricio smells bad. Mr. Lisa takes the bottle, thank you, and they’re off. All for the best as gin makes people mean and we don’t need any more of that. Mauricio remarks that unspoken negativity leads to explosion. We don’t need any more of that either, thank you.
Next time: it’s Brandi’s Stripper School! Suzanne Somers is giving advice on stopping the advance of time, Kim’s considering a nose job, David Foster is coming home from another “business trip”, and The Glands tells Marisa she thinks she doesn’t love her husband like he loves her. Yeegads! Buckle up, kittycats!
Written by:
Elizabeth Spilotro
Website: www.thislittlemama.com
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I like the nicknames you give!
Sometimes I only watch this show to read what you have to say.
and love it’s exactly what me (and everyone! ) thinks.
Thanks again!!
The nicknames are great. Don’t change a thing.