Something tastes funny in Candyland. And it ain’t those odd domino shaped s’mores.
Previously having proven that money can’t buy you class or maturity, after this week’s Game Night extravaganza The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills can officially add board games and party snacks to that list.
Seriously. For a coop full of filthy rich hens, they came up with some pretty lame choices for playtime and munchies. But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Gotta follow the rules.
So we get to start out over at Casa de Vanderpump where Lisa is prepping for yet another over the top dinner party. Except this one is for family only. No Dingy Housewives allowed. And she is actually cooking the food herself.
Shut up. I know, right?
Her daughter Pandora, who is living in sin with Jason while making Lisa grow old waiting for grandchildren, is coming over with her man tomorrow night. Since everything Lisa does has to be over the top, overly expensive and overly pink, she is on pre-holiday overload getting ready for the party.
After getting irritated with the help because Conchita was missing a spoon or something on the place setting, Lisa has to deal with her whipped husband Ken, who doesn’t appear to be too comfortable in the kitchen. Cut him some slack, honey. Ken, whose left arm is now permanently cramped at 90 degrees from holding Ultimate Sissy Dog Giggy airborne all these years probably can not offer much assistance in the food prep category anymore, since only one arm has complete range of motion.
That, and the fact that Lisa has sucked both the life, and the money, completely out of him and his soul is tired.
Figuring that he can’t mess up opening the wine, she gives him that one simple task which he screws up by placing the bottle on the cutting board. Lisa flutters him away by telling him to get that filthy thing off the table. The same table that Giggy’s butt has previously been spotted on. Which one do you think is cleaner?
After thinking about that for a split second I immediately went to floss my teeth, but made it back in time to see them double dipping the spoon into the potato salad for a little taste test.
Flashback to a few weeks ago when Lisa had Giggy’s entire snout in her mouth. You do the math and then decide if you want seconds on the potato salad.
I’ll wait while you go rinse your mouth out.
Eventually the dinner happens and Jason announces that he has already proposed to Pandora, and Lisa soap opera cries. You know the cry. Where you just dab the inside corner of your eye with your hankie and then blot. No bawling your eyes out. Just a dab, a dramatic pause and then back to the appetizers.
And Giggy was there in his formal onesie.
Since the whole episode seems to be revolving around food, Taylor, who hasn’t been seen eating anything in the last 5 episodes, is now suddenly baking cookies for some unexplained reason. Don’t ask. I guess sometimes you just gotta make cookies when your marriage is falling apart.
Since nuts seem to thrive in clusters, newbie Dana takes off her $25,000 sunglasses long enough to come over and help. She even brings her own apron, which still had the creases from the Bed Bath & Beyond bag it came packaged in, because you know that designer name dropping society coat tail climbing poser don’t touch raw dough. Oh no she don’t.
All the Housewives are getting together for Game Night, which is an odd choice of activities for them, since I thought that only Boy Scout troops, slumber party girls and prison inmates still had Game Night on their calendars. But they are all excited, and it gives Dana a chance to show off her massive home, and three pieces of furniture.
Seriously. I guess you can’t dump 25K on shades and have much left at the Lazy Boy Outlet.
Before the big night of charades and Pictionary, we get a couple of scenes tossed in with Kyle and Adrienne discussing everyone else’s business and the BBQ drama from last time, as well as Adrienne and Uber LeAnn Rimes hater Brandi discussing…you guessed it…how she got dumped for LeAnn Rimes.
Gah. We get it, missy. Let it go.
Then we get to the good stuff. Game Night at Dana’s!
Kyle is the first to arrive and it literally takes Dana about 20 minutes to descend the winding staircase as she clunks down, clutching the railing like a sloppy mix of Scarlett O’Hara, Carol Burnett and that dirty girl from Jersey Shore. Here’s how it all went down if you’re playing the Take A Shot When Dana Talks About Money drinking game:
Kyle: I love your outfit. (Lacy hot pants. Tres Klasseé.)
Dana: It’s Valentino.
Brandi hobbles in on her good foot, almost wiping out with her crutches on the shiny floor. I love your outfit.
Dana: It’s Valentino.
Camille shows up, and Dana clunks off to get the door, leaving Kyle and Brandi to stare at each other like they have raw meat around their necks.
Dana: Oy. I can barely walk in these Fendi’s.
Taylor shows up wearing her nightgown, but no chocolate chip cookies. Your house smells so nice.
Dana: It’s me. I just rolled around in money upstairs. Like my booty shorts? They’re Valentino.
(Ok…I might have made that last part up.)
Since Adrienne spent so much time lunching and gossiping this week, she was behind in work and couldn’t come to Game Night. Let me tell you she is probably thanking her lucky stars that she has no time management skills. Stay as far away from this bunch as you can, Mrs. Maloof. Even getting Purple Nurples and from your playground bully husband is better than hanging with this bunch.
Kim finally arrives fashionably late, fresh off the Hot Mess Shuttle, and apparently still carrying on the same rambling conversation that she started two week’s ago in Adrienne’s plane. Seriously. That woman has never heard of a hair brush or a punctuation mark, because she always arrives looking like she drove with the top down and never takes a breath between words.
Like any good houseguest, Kim immediately heads to the bathroom with Kyle hot on her heels like a manic AA Sponsor. Thanks to Kim’s consistently blurred vision, she imagines that the mirror is cloudy, dirty and probably possessed and proceeds to clean it, cussing out Dana for not having any housekeepers. No housekeepers. And no Unicorns.
While Kim is swatting away imaginary butterflies in the bathroom, Dana is out in the living room trying to scam her way into a complimentary trip to Hawaii, courtesy of the Camille Grammar Free Housing Authority. As soon as Dana figured out that Camille got to keep the Island house after Kelsey screwed around on her, she did everything short of bringing her luggage down from the attic. Seriously, girl. Show less butt and more class.
Keeping with the Game Night theme, Kim and Kyle appear to come up with a new one that gives Kyle points for how much makeup she can apply to her sister before Kim rubs it off like there are bugs on her face. With all their money you would think they could find a counter at Nordstrom’s that carries something permanent.
After 27 more trips to the bathroom, it looks like Game Night can finally start.
The whole thing began to collapse into High School Mean Girls as soon as Dana flipped over the hourglass egg timer. (Side note…tell me Kim wasn’t looking at that thing with her tongue out, watching all that white powder sift through the funnel. I know I’m not the only one who noticed.)
They played “Celebrity Guess Who?” And Kim went to the bathroom a lot. A lot.
Then they played an IQ game which should have been called “Let’s See How Stupid Brandi Is” and Kim went to the bathroom again. And again.
Finally, taking a break from trash talking LeAnn Rimes, Brandi puts all her energy into pointing out that Kim goes to the bathroom a lot.
Yup. She went there. Wasted.
For a girl who thinks Winston Churchill is a black man, and never even noticed that the reason she couldn’t stand up was because Kim stole her crutches right out from under her nose, Brandi got pretty clear headed when it came to what Kim was or was not doing in the bathroom.
Boom goes the dynamite.
Kim and Kyle hit the ejector button right off the couch and get all up in Brandi’s face for a final 30 second smack down before the show ends. Bummer. All the good stuff is next week.
Curse you, Bravo. I don’t like the rules of this game.
I’m not playing anymore.
Well. Until next week.