Taylor came back for a visit and Kyle Richards held her baby in a headlock last night, and that perfect sentence marks the end of my writing career.
No one has heard from Lisa since she and Ken flew back to L.A. in the wee hours of the morning like a couple of small-time criminals. Listen — I don’t blame them for leaving. If I had fuck-you money the way those two do I would literally never finish a conversation with anyone ever again. My life would be a steady trail of leaving things that bored or upset me, like parties and graduation ceremonies and my dentist’s office.
They left because they could, and I’m sure they didn’t want to stick around for more unfounded accusations being yelled at them by this pile of angry sea lions formerly known as their close friends. And you know what? Lisa is right. Lisa is right! I know that Lisa is a sneaky bitch, but this magazine meltdown is an excuse Brandi is using to get to her real point, which is that she simply hates the fact that Lisa hasn’t excommunicated wall-eyed, dick-faced Scheana for boning her husband. And that’s fine — Brandi is entitled to feel her feels. But she’s wrong, and they should have saved this attack on Lisa for another time and a more egregious offense, like her too-long fake eyelashes that impede her ability to cry or blink.
Maurice and Michael golfed and talked about the sensation of betrayal Maurice has been feeling since Lisa and Ken refused to answer his dumb questions at dinner. Maurice hates his life, right? There’s no way that guy wakes up, fights with his wife’s friends over magazines, and still feels like life is worth living. I’ve caught on to Michael’s trick, which is to repeat what someone just said in an attempt to sound like you care and are paying attention, and watched with glee as he employed it on Maurice 16 times in the span of two minutes. They talked about family and honor, and then Maurice quietly gazed at the horizon, wondering if he could fake his own death.
Everyone piled into a murdered-out minibus and headed to the town center, where Yolanda leapfrogged over a stone pillar, suggested they go to a salsa class, snatched an iguana and terrified everyone with it, and generally acted like she was on drugs. Where has this Yolanda been hiding? I like her so much more! Brandi aired out her crotch in a public fountain while Kim splashed around in water wings, and they made a quick exit when a cop from 1954 came walking toward them at a clip. Now that Lisa is gone everyone is having fun, until Kyle starts putting people to sleep by talking about her upcoming Chamber of Commerce 100 Days of Night party or something. Joyce piped up to say, “Hey, I met all of you girls at a Chamber of Commerce event!” The memory short-circuited her synapses, and she sat quietly for the rest of the evening, staring at a plate of beans. When Kim mentioned that her daughter is leaving for college soon, Brandi absentmindedly reached out and started stroking her face. Everyone has been on high alert around Kim for so long that their bodies just take over in moments of crisis, like placating Kim is a perfunctory task that doesn’t require any thought. Kim was startled, but occupied herself by trying to pronounce Puerto Rico (“poo-air REE-coo!”) for the rest of the night, even though she just sounded like Nick Kroll’s El Chupacabra character in the end.
Brandi bought her mom a new car for her birthday and surprised her with it in Yo’s driveway after making her working class parents who are “intimidated by wealth” tour Yo’s massive house. David was playing one of his 84 pianos when they came in and Yolanda was hunched over a fireplace burning stacks of 100s, so Brandi’s parents nervously rattled off a history of their medical ailments (“His left lung has collapsed three times!”) while they waited for Brandi to come back.
Carlton pulled a mauve curtain around her boulder tits and jangled off to Lisa’s house to assure her that every American woman they know is an insecure viper. Of course they discussed how Lisa feels ganged up on, and Carlton displayed some non-sexual affection for once by telling Lisa to suck it up, she’s British, and crying is a sign of weakness. That mothering instinct kicks right in, huh? To be fair, she did say “there there” a few times, but I commend her steely resolve. It has to suck for Lisa to feel like she’s losing all of her friends at once for reasons she can’t even understand, but Carlton is right to remind her that all of their friends blow mightier than the Santa Ana winds.
Do do do DOOOO! The day has finally arrived, and Kim and Yo’s oldest kids are heading off. Everyone is a solid gold mess of emotions, and we’re again treated to the startling juxtaposition about how each kid will live once they’re away at school — Kimberley is going to college, while Gigi is moving to New York to become a high-powered 34-year-old account executive who makes high six figures. Gigi’s apartment is massive, incredibly well appointed, and actually quiet. Her parent’s money has bought her the Holy Grail of college experiences and as a born and raised New Yorker I dislike her greatly. Meanwhile, poor Kimberley is trying to figure out how to fit all of the emergency candles, coffee cups, shampoo, bobby pins, brushes, socks, vacuums, and mattress covers Kim has hoarded for her into her two-foot-wide closet in a room made of cinder blocks and 40-year-old semen stains. It’s actually fine as far as dorm rooms go, but next to Gigi’s it looks like a prison cell.
Kyle took her youngest daughters to get their ears pierced, and you would have thought she took them to have their toes sawed off. These kids freaked out! Sophia sat like a stony champion when the gun went through her first ear. When the second ear proved to be too much to go through, her big sister volunteered, and proceeded to cringe and jump and leap away from the piercer before finally acquiescing and crying through the entire two-second process. Taylor and Kennedy looked on, still wrapped in a cocoon of PTSD and holding on to each other for dear life. Kyle said this is the first time the girls were “putting their toe into the suffer-for-beauty pool,” and it made me want to beat her with a copy of Simone de Beauvoir’s Second Sex.
Still not quite traumatized enough, Kyle decided to teach her daughter’s how to protect themselves by employing the base level self-defense she learned from that guy Yo almost choked out and taking turns assaulting each of them. She ran around the yard screaming “YOU’RE STRONGER THAN YOU REALIZE!” while chasing them and wondering out loud if all girls want to beat up their mom. Nope! That’s special to your relationship with your girls, and everyone you meet, Kyle.
Once Gigi’s wall of inspiration plaques are in place and Kimberley has tunneled out from under the crushing weight of all the things her mom bought for her, it’s time to say good-bye. Yo takes it pretty hard, crying about how she should have filled a book with all of the wisdom she still has to give, like saving your receipts from your hair appointments because it’s tax deductible. I know it makes sense because Gigi models, but how much money are the Fosters spending on hair that saving receipts have become a family value, passed down from generation to generation? I like that one of her plaques said, “Don’t let these walls stop you.” From what, a killing spree?
It’s safe to say that Kim went a little berserk with the college prep, but would you expect anything less from the Beverly Hills answer to Nell? Kim washed her daughter’s new sheets 12 times — with Snuggles softener! — so that the bed would be “like a little house.” This kid is moving an hour and a half away, but you’d think she was setting up shop in Tajikistan. Remember how badly Kim broke down when she was moving into a new house, simply looking at pictures of her kids? Someone better put this bitch on suicide watch. In the end, she tapped tattooed wrists with her daughter, told her that every day of her life has been a joy, and tearfully thanked God that she is here to day to watch her daughter go to college. She’s fragile and I make fun of her a lot, but it was actually quite sweet to know that Kim survived her alcoholism and is here to enjoy this moment.
Finally, as they were getting ready to leave for the Chamber of Commerce party, Ken, the oldest man who ever olded, told Lisa that he wasn’t friends with her friends anymore. D’okay! I appreciate your taking a stand, Ken, but something tells me this is not going to be your call. Next week is the season finale and it looks like Lisa is in a private showdown with everyone, so we get to see if the Vanderpumps are going out in a blaze of glory after all.