Seriously? Is she still talking? Lord.
I smell some crazy up in here.
Talk to the finger. And fix your top.
I am seriously too pretty to be sued.
Ladies and Gentlemen.
Welcome to the RHOBH Throwdown.
Tonight we have a rare double fight card.
First: It’s the highly anticipated return of The SlutPig vs. The (Alleged) Substance Abuser, followed immediately by our second fight of the evening: Russell Armstrong vs. Everybody.
Also, please be sure to stop by our snack bar located adjacent to the parquet dance floor for some fresh sushi and absolutely decadent liver paté.
Let’s get ready to rumble.
Seriously. You can’t make this stuff up.
The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills unleashed the Hounds this week, after dressing them all in their best Summer Whites. It was another lavish Beverly Hills party that allowed all the ‘Wives to cut the tags off some unworn piece of couture from their walk-ins and wear even more jewelry.
This time around though, the only thing more awkward than figuring out how to not spill red wine on your white designer gown was Bravo trying to figure out how to deal with yet another Russell-centric episode without stomping on his grave.
As soon as the opening credits rolled, you knew we were in for some Hills action. While Paul tried to figure out what the fax/printer in the study was used for, Adrienne made the trek down the seemingly endless halls of Maison Maloof to fill her husband in on some important happenings in their Inner Circle. Paul was definitely out of his element in the world of office paperwork. He is much better suited for plastic surgery and spousal aggravation, as I’m pretty certain this was the first episode this season that didn’t involve him tripping Adrienne, scaring her from behind a door or sticking gum in her hair.
I bow to his childish antics. A medical degree doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a good Purple Nurple once in awhile.
Turns out that Adrienne spoke with Camille who had just received a scathing email from Russell. As you will recall during Lisa’s disastrously snooty British Tea Party, Camille had lost all patience with Taylor and blurted out some not so nice things that Taylor had told the girls regarding Russell and his (…again with the alleged, Bravo…) abuse. Even the neighborhood paperboy probably knows that their marriage is in shambles, and Camille had grown tired of Taylor saying one thing and then running back to Russell in the same breath.
Camille was also coming off a bad ManHating roller coaster ride, thank you Kelsey Grammer, so that probably didn’t help her disposition. That and how strong Brits steep their tea.
After the fact, during one of Taylor’s good days, she told Russell what happened. Typical Bravo TV Alpha Male behavior then requires that you either take to your Twitter account and talk 140 characters of smack, or blast off an email that can burn the recipient’s retinas.
Russell had chosen the latter, and threatened to sue Camille for committing the crime of trash talking. How someone can be sued for only repeating what she has been told, ps…by your own wife by the way, was unclear to everyone and now Adrienne is not sure that they should attend Kyle’s annual White Party. Friends don’t sue friends, and now everyone is worried that anything they say will result in a court date.
Dang, girl.
Speaking of Saving the Date. Lisa has still not finished the prep work on daughter Pandora’s Ultimate Wedding. She has also not finished coming to grips with the fact that this is not her own wedding, because she still finishes every sentence with I want or I need or I love it. I’m also starting to notice that she might be air kissing fiancé Jason a little too much, now that you mention it. Mommy might still have a little Vegas Chippendale in her bloodstream.
Mr. Wok It Girl Kevin Lee still insists that the wedding needs to be over the top, dahling, and as the Wedding Planner he insists on a 20 piece band. Lisa just wants some good tunes for her…I mean, Pandora’s…big day, but is willing to give a listen to Kevin’s choice, so she allows him to bring in a small percentage of the musicians for a quick demo in the living room. Or sitting room. Or tea room. Whatever that was.
The band was good, in a bald Marc Anthony kind of way. They also demoed a little R&B for Jason while Lisa got uncomfortably intimate with Uber Sissy Dog Giggy.
What’s more awkward than Lisa’s lap dance with a Chippendale boy in Vegas you ask? Try a face dance with Giggy. Literally. You know where his face has been, right Lisa? That was a close tie with what appeared to be Kevin Lee’s first dance with a woman as they all slow jammed to the band until Ms. Lee’s goggles fogged up.
After the Vanderpump Hump was over and Giggy had coughed something up, I knew that everything else was going to be all White.
Kyle was getting ready for her annual White Party, completely oblivious to the Camille/Russell internet bitch fight. Since no woman on the Bravo network knows how to do their own hair, Kyle’s stylist was working her curling iron magic when Adrienne called with all the deets.
Needless to say, Kyle was upset. The moral of the story is that nobody feels Taylor and Russell should be allowed into the party because it would make Camille uncomfortable. Since receiving the email, Camille had spoken with her legal team, who are probably on speed dial right now…again, thank you Kelsey…and they advised her to stay as far away as possible from Russell. And with Kyle being the only ‘Wife to not live in an obnoxiously sprawling mansion, chances of them bumping into each other are pretty good.
That and the fact that none of the Inner Circle feels comfortable around Russell now. Nobody wants to get sued, and they know how they all get when the booze is free.
It’s almost my birthday. I really don’t need this.
Even though Kyle never manages to plan the party until the very last minute, it still goes off on schedule as the guests start arriving in their finest white designer wear.
Everyone is decked out in their best non-Marine dress whites and jewels, except for Kim’s new Ken doll who looks like a blue collar cross between a Cheesecake Factory waiter and that 1950′s Milk Man from the television commercials. I’m sure he means well, but Ken is a little doofy and doesn’t quite fit in with the crowd.
No wonder one of Kim’s daughters takes Nyquil.
Yeah. I skipped that part. But one of the daughters took Nyquil and fell asleep in the shower. I don’t even know how that happens, but it’s proof that the apple doesn’t fall far from the Crazy Tree.
Much to Kyle’s disdain, Kim is looking for a fight and is a little disappointed that Brandi is no longer wearing her rehab boot, since that would have made her a slower target to chase down. Ever since their blowout at Game Night way back when, Kim has been driving around late at night with her lights off hoping to accidentally run down Brandi on the side of the road.
I’ll give Brandi a little credit. Even though she talks like a truck driver and didn’t quite have her left boob tucked all the way into her dress, she means well. She really wants to play nice with all these Housewives, but like Paul and the Office Depot, she is way out of her element.
Kim tracks down Brandi’s scent, whips out her signature pointing finger/weapon and starts getting all up in Brandi’s face. There’s no way around this one.
Kim is a mess. A hot one.
And then it just got creepy.
Kyle breaks down while trying to figure out what to do when Taylor and Russell arrive. Everyone else wants them to be turned away. No room in the Manger.
Lisa has a feeling that Taylor doesn’t even know about the email. Adrienne tries to be the voice of reason but it’s already gone way past that point.
As they all gather and try to figure out what to do, the Armstrong limo is getting closer. Aside from the fact that in Real Time Russell is no longer even alive and that seeing him in each episode is already like hearing a Voice from Beyond, this week he is creeping out during the ride over and rambling about how he’s gonna have fun and gonna drink this whole bottle of vodka and get busy like they did in Vegas. Taylor is nervous about seeing Camille and tells Russell he’s a good boy now. When he repeated it with that vague, blank stare that he always has behind his glasses it just gave me the heebie jeebies.
Kyle still can’t get it together, so they figure there is strength in numbers and all waddle out to meet the limo together, looking like the last scene of The Mary Tyler Moore Show finale. (For our younger readers….Google it. Classic TV Land moment. )
Group hugs aside, the decision is that Russell and Taylor need to turn around and not enter the party. When the limo pulls up, Kyle barely gets the first sentence out before she loses it again, leaving everyone else to talk over each other and explain what is going on.
Needless to say, Russell is not happy. Taylor has not even read the email, and begrudgingly turns around and threatens to simply go back to Vegas where they just were…and would still be, if they hadn’t dropped everything and flown back for this stupid party. She is not happy either.
Russell says the email simply asked Camille to call him at her earliest convenience. Paul read the email and begs to differ, calling it inappropriate. Taylor gets all wide eyed and isn’t sure what to do because Kyle is still crying. Mauricio points out that no one wants to get sued, which sends Taylor and Russell back out onto the street.
As soon as the couple get their bad attitudes inside the limo, Russell pulls at wires, yanks off his Bravo mic pack and it suddenly all starts to look a little more real. Knowing how it all ends, this is again a red flag that nobody picked up on at the time.
Housewives and Househusband heads are popping in and out of the limo from every direction as they try to release some of the steam from the situation. (Kids…as long as you’re on TV Land, check out reruns of Laugh-In as well. That big wall with all the windows and doors where the heads kept popping in and out. It was like that, but more expensive.)
The rest of Russell’s dialog is sub-titled since he tore off all his wiring, and the whole thing ends with an all too ominous line that spoke louder than anything else that evening.
“Just let us go.”
…..
And just so I don’t end this on a heavy note, since dat’s not how we roll…did anyone else notice that after it was all over and the limo drove off, Mauricio walked back into the party with Russell’s vodka bottle in his hand?
Well played, Mauricio. Well played.
