Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Recap – 4/14/15

See, that’s the text I would have sent to Kim Richards before the Reunion if I were Lisa Rinna – and not only would I not begin to weep once Kim pulled the incriminating evidence from underneath her bony thigh where she was storing her iPhone for that very moment, but I would have embroidered the entire message on a tee shirt and worn it while I sat on that velvet couch next to other women draped in chiffon and wet Kleenex. I would have made pins and posters that shouted my text message to the world about just how much of an assh*le Kim Richards is – and I would get Kyle drunk (or high) and convince her to get my entire text tattooed across her upper thigh and I would have done it all without a moment of hesitation or even a shred of guilt. Hell, I would turn Terrifying Text Day into an annual holiday where the traditional main course is created entirely out of pureed painkillers.

Lisa Rinna played it all wrong is basically what I’m saying. She soberly and somberly nodded as her “threatening” text was read by a woman who publicly attempted to destroy Lisa’s marriage instead of reclining against those overstuffed pillows on that bullsh*t couch that I’m really sick of looking at and saying, “Yup, I sent that message. And?” Instead, Lisa burst into tears and actually apologized to a raving madwoman and I’m not sure that I will ever recover from that moment because I’m entirely of the opinion that Lisa should have taken great pleasure in destroying Kim.

I’m doing it – and it’s been pretty f*cking fun. And it’s also an entirely warranted reaction. You don’t want to be judged or questioned? You want people to stay out of your business? Then don’t go on a reality show where the sobriety you are hanging on to by a lice-ravaged thread of hair is the only storyline you have ever had – other than owning a dog you refused to properly train that everybody expected to maul you somewhere back in the middle of last season. We were all wrong about that one – I blew my bracket terribly – but who could have known that it would be Kyle’s kid left bloody by that dog? And who could have known that her own aunt would blame the kid for everything?

Yes, my friends (I feel like we are friends now, like we’re the only group of survivors left dazed but alive after an apocalyptic event that involved wineries, public discussions of pubic hair, wine tossing, and Adrienne Maloof impersonating a magician), this season of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills is finally over. And as it sputters to a sad and whimpering close, I can’t help but think about how excited I was back in the autumn for this season to start, how thrilling it felt to see the commercial for the show while I tried on brand new suede boots I’d bought for the winter that has a heel so thin and high (THIN & HIGH should be Kyle’s new nickname, one she won’t fully hate because it does include the word “thin”) and I never wore them once because here on the east coast, the ground was covered in a thick layer of ice from January clear through April.

But I digress. What’s important here is that the season is almost just a hazy memory and now it’s time to take stock of what we have learned along a journey where at some point I must have sipped acid-infused water because there have been many nights where I almost could not believe the nonsense playing out on my television screen by people who are permitted to both vote and procreate. Unsure how you feel about protecting our rights to birth control? Think about Brandi popping out a new kid next time you walk in the voting booth – it’ll be a terrifying exercise that might require a full exorcism at a later date, but it could prove worthwhile.

The final part of this Reunion begins with some silly and sassy updates:

• Lisa Rinna now owns the crown of Profanity Guru for saying “f*ck” more times than anybody else on the show. And though it wasn’t acknowledged, Brandi wins the C*nt Crown, which is really just a plastic tiara she keeps underneath her pillow for the times she likes to pretend that she was born Lisa Vanderpump.

• Kyle really hates the word “p*ssy,” and while it’s never been an issue for me, I convulse visibly at the sound of the word “moist,” so I get it. And I will avoid joining together the words “moist” and “p*ssy” because I am f*cking classy.

• Speaking of classy, Lisa Rinna has trimmed her bush! The trimming of her pubes saddened her husband, but it didn’t sadden him nearly as much as it did when Kim Richards dropped by his house for a terrifying moment of insanity that led to her disappearing for a while into his bathroom, screaming at his wife in the car, and then spending an entire season blaming only the sober ones.

• Brandi is still in touch with the mover she banged early in the season, but he hasn’t been around recently because he’s back at Chico State. Yes, Brandi apparently only nails young guys who don’t know any better. I hope this one does well in his Freshman English class and that he chooses Brandi as the topic for his essay on The Most Remarkable Woman I Know, but only if the assignment is an exercise in how to create irony out of a simmering pile of dogsh*t.

• The frozen look of pure revulsion that flashes across Kyle’s face as Brandi discusses the guy she dated who recently lived in a dorm is hilarious and I recommend that you immediately stop reading this recap and go back and pause the action at that precise moment so you can fully experience the horror churning away inside of Kyle’s spleen. She almost turns another color in that instant, and her expression reminds me of how Emily Post might appear if someone approached her table in a restaurant to ask whether or not a dental dam made out of a peach Fruit Rollup would be an appropriate wedding gift to give a couple – and if it would be acceptable to wait over a year to send it.

Just so we’re all abundantly clear, that was the light, happy stuff. Everything from here on out is misery thrown up chunky-style by despondent sisters, an alleged anorexic, and two blondes who are undoubtedly teetering on the slippery precipice of full-blown delusion.

I miss the lighter days of this show, back when the action involved things like suicide and alleged spousal abuse. And yes – that’s how f*cking sick and twisted it’s gotten; I find myself longing for the happy days when Taylor had to slowly explain to her five-year-old daughter why they didn’t have a private jet anymore. After all, I think we all remember just how crushing it was to learn that the private jet had gone away from our lives; for me, that moment was a hundred times worse than finding out that the Tooth Fairy wasn’t real, that my parents were getting a divorce, and that one day I’d be unable to turn away from horrible people doing dastardly things on television to secure themselves a brand ambassadorship for a very sh*tty line of wines.

Speaking of lines, I hope that Kim has been doing some because I desperately need to believe that there is a logical reason for the consistent psychosis she exhibits hourly. And the whole text message argument made me realize that this entire season has literally been about two things: Kim taking a pill (but-that- doesn’t-mean-she-lost-her-sobriety-and-f*ck-you-for-thinking-such-a-thing-and-just-so-you-know-everyone-who-you-ever-loved-cheated-on-you-with-a-posse-of-traveling-circus-workers) and Brandi refusing to take accountability. That’s it, the entire season. I mean, sure, we had random tangential interludes that involved milkshake-gulping scavenger hunts and questionably-heterosexual Danish Princes and Lisa’s son wanting to explore his ancestry, but those storylines started and scooted forward and then ended and they mattered so little – they were storylines so negligibly explored – that it took me a good five minutes to think of any of them. This show has legitimately morphed into an exhibition put on by two ruthless and irrational women and the rest of the time is spent allowing the ones in their midst who have a smidgen of logic or decency to react to their antics.

Since there’s really nothing else to talk about, Andy Cohen again revisits the Lisa Rinna/Kim brawl, the one that happened because Kim lost both her sobriety and her f*cking mind. Turns out that they haven’t spoken since the night of the finale party, when Kim refused to believe that Brandi also once questioned just how sober she has been – and she still refuses to believe that such a thing transpired even though she watched it happen on the show. I know I’m being snarky but that’s some next-level lack of self-awareness right there. It’s almost kind of impressive. It definitely should be studied. And then it should be caged so it can do the world no further damage.

But wait! It turns out there’s still more to squeeze from this storyline because, while they haven’t spoken in person, Lisa did send Kim a text. It was a text so horrible, so vicious, so threatening, that Kim Richards is now in fear for her life.

What did it say? “Be very careful or I will f*ck you up.”

Look, that certainly wasn’t a kind text, but I’m all but positive that it doesn’t warrant Kim hiring a bodyguard or Lisa sputtering out an apology and tears. Desperate to get as much mileage as he can out of these lost women on Bravo Island, Andy asks Lisa why she is crying and she explains that being shut down is an emotional trigger for her because her father used to do it to her. And just as her emotion is reaching its sad peak, the creature masquerading as a hammered human begins to cackle.

“She’s gonna cry now,” laughs Kim. “The truth is that you have a problem and you want to hurt people.”

The icky waves of joy that reverberate across the dilated pupils of Kim’s eyes when someone sits devastated before her is quantifiable – and it’s tantamount to that glint of evil that’s drawn into the eye of a cartoon villain, except the cartoon villain has both more compassion and eloquence than Kim.

“There’s something wrong with her,” Kim continues with astonishment in her voice, and then she starts getting really into it, harnessing the same level of emotion she must have employed when she performed that Ibsen monologue to snag her role in Sharknado 3. “I bet if you look her up, she’s got a record of…” – and then she mimes strangling someone as she desperately tries to find her words before she comes up triumphant: “…batter.”

Close, Kim.