I feel very strongly that it is imperative to consistently vary one’s vocabulary – even when speaking about human beings who exhibit the total intelligence of one lone amoeba – and in that spirit, I boldly proclaim that I will no longer call Brandi Glanville “an asshole” anymore because I have said it far too often and I am concerned that it has lost its impact. Instead, I shall refer to this bus-and-train-wreck version of an adult as “an inflamed sphincter,” and I want to take a moment to apologize to all of the sphincters out there for the terrible association.

This episode begins with Yolanda, Eileen, the Lisas, Kyle’s artificial hair, Kim’s alleged sobriety, and Brandi’s sphincter still vacationing in the stunning land of Amsterdam, a country that should sue half of these Housewives, Bravo, NBC Universal, and Brandi’s forefather’s sperm for so tarnishing the sanctity of the place. But as it’s a new day, new apologies are in order and what better place to do it than in a souvenir shop while wearing … Continue reading →

You know what’s so amazing about going on a vacation? No, I’m not talking about getting that perfect tan or seeing those magical places you have only read about in books or even having one of those nights that don’t end until the dawn when you drink cocktails you can barely pronounce and then dance under a velvet sky filled with stars that look like diamonds when you stare up at them drunkenly. Sure – all of that is nice, but what’s really great about a vacation is when you get to sit around a table on a boat that you can’t get off until it winds its way through a canal and the biggest assh*le in the vicinity suggests that everybody goes around and says something kind about a group of people who have more conflicts than the Middle East and then the evening ends with one person slapping you across the face.

Where’s my passport?!

We’ll get to the worst boat ride any group of people have ever taken in all of history … Continue reading →

When I was in middle school, I got a miniature poodle. He was white and furry and remarkably snuggly. He would meet me at the front door every day when I arrived home from school and he would watch me as I did my homework and then recline beside me as I watched old episodes of What’s Happening.

I think he liked Rerun.

Unfortunately, this puppy would also run in concentric circles around the coffee table in the living room when I needed to pick him up to take him outside. You have never seen any living thing book around a table faster than this nine-pound dog. He’d skid to a stop when I tried to trap him and pivot like he was f*cking Baryshnikov and then start running in the other direction. He was twelve steps ahead of me – physically and strategically – and it was rather disconcerting to be outsmarted daily by one of the smallest members in all of the animal kingdom.

Eventually, my mother suggested that I take my … Continue reading →