Oh, the State of the Union Address from our president was on last night? Well you know what, knowing about world issues is for squares because instead of being informed of news and politics, I was enlightened on how middle aged women groom their bikini areas, or don’t groom—I’m lookin at you, Rinna. Same difference, really.
Kyle organizes a spa day in Santa Barbara to get away from the stress of taking her kid to college and being on family vacation. I fully expect Kyle to start singing “What’s Left of Me” by Nick Lachey as she recounts to Eileen how she dropped off Alexia and now half of her is missing. The gals take a windowless rape van to spa day and talk about their pubic hair en route. Insert Kim’s terrible joke about Harry liking it Hairy. Oh, KIM. Brandi assumes that Lisa doesn’t do her own bikini trimming, she makes Rosia do it. And you know what? She’s probably right.
“I’m a pamper whore,” Rinna confesses before she laughs like a cartoon character and I’ve finally figured out that she IS Kristen Wiig’s parody of Kathie Lee Gifford with less wine. That’s been bothering me for weeks and I’m glad I finally made the connection. Thanks for helping me work through that, guys. Anyway they manage to all get massages without fighting and only a few anal jokes from Brandi and they’re off to a wine tasting that Kyle thought was just a wine pairing, not a tasting (what’s the difference?) and now feels terrible that Kim has to watch everyone “taste” five glasses of wine and not be allowed to stick a straw in Brandi’s nearly empty glass for a quick sippy. Kim takes this time to reassure everyone she’s fine while simultaneously making a bunch of wine jokes like this is her own personal shitty reformed alcoholic comedy show. I assume this is the punishment these girls must face for drinking in front of her. On the rape van ride back, the girls divulge their secret fantasies. Kyle reveals that she wants to be a stripper professionally and the limo screeches to a halt, Brandi’s fake boob is dislodged, Rinna’s face hits the window, slides down the glass and still doesn’t move a muscle and Lisa shouts in the most surprised tone she could muster, “YOU WANT TO BE THE CENTER OF ATTENTION? THIS IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION, KYLE.” Did that really happen? Probably not, but it was really brave of Kyle to share that secret need for people’s eyes on her anyway. Brandi is feeling the courage being passed around so she includes her fantasy of catching her guy banging someone else from behind and suddenly the safe space has closed up and there’s a padlock on the door because everyone looks at her with disgust and tells her she’s a pervert. This basically sums up how all teenage slumber parties go. It’s all fun and games until someone reveals a little too much, then you’re sitting in the lunchroom alone.
Eileen is hosting a poker night because these women can only throw parties that cater to their husband’s talents/interests…(i.e. sing along dinner parties at the Foster home.) For those of you that have forgotten, Eileen’s husband Vincent hosts the world poker tournament or something. Miss Ice “My Maid Gives Me A Bikini Wax” Queen is conveniently on vacation and can’t make the tournament. For anyone whose still not keeping track, Lisa plans things so that she doesn’t have to lower herself to show up to these commoner events. I for one am thankful, because we don’t have to see Brandi and Lisa interact any more than a little pube talk from earlier.
Vincent is dressed in a vibrant magenta button down shirt and will be the moderator of the evening, and I don’t think he’s been to enough drunk tank parties with these ladies to realize just how serious his job will be. He’ll learn soon enough.
The ladies pair off to carpool so that I have more material for my recap, which was truly generous of them. Kim rides in with Rinna and immediately everyone on this planet knows she’s on something because Kim does not hide sloppiness well. Rinna asks her how she is and she just keeps repeating/slurring the word “Ornery”. Full disclosure, because I feel like this is a safe space and we’re all friends, I had to look that word up. Believe me, no one is more disappointed in me than myself that Kim Richards has a better vocabulary than me. Thank God they added closed caption for her incoherent chatter or I wouldn’t even be able to spell it. For the record, if anyone is asking for a friend what it means, it’s defined as ugly and unpleasant disposition/temper or in laymen’s terms: how Kim is acting for the entire evening. But anyway let’s not skip ahead just yet. I didn’t think any limo ride could get worse than the group “you tell your secret if I tell a secret” from earlier but boy it did. Kim talks about how lonely she’s feeling now that her dying ex-husband Monty disappeared (probably to go to Vegas) and no one should feel bad for him, everyone should feel bad for her. Number one lesson in taking care of a sick person. All the sympathy should be with the caregiver, obv. Kim then decides she should maybe start acting again and chooses that very moment to start practicing for the role of drugged out murderous bitch. She nails the part if we’re being honest, glaring at Rinna and calling her disgusting over and over and then telling her to F off. At one point Rinna almost breaks a window and tucks her elbows in to roll out of the moving vehicle like she’s escaping abduction. But alas, they arrive at Eileen’s warm and welcoming American Psycho meets Antique Roadshow home.
The tourney begins and I applaud the producers for suddenly turning a bunch of ladies wearing designer dresses to a game night into cigar smoking bad bitches ready to throw down. Vincent deserves all of the awards in the world for his efforts to teach a bunch of drunk idiots the game of poker. What he quickly learns is that they all have great poker faces because Botox. At the stroke of first call, Brandi rears her ugly alter ego of Boozy Brandi and starts calling all the actresses dumb because they suck at poker and don’t understand what’s going on. Kim peels her head off the table long enough to secure a win and suddenly she’s filled with the youthful energy of Brandi’s last bang buddy. Kim celebrates her and Brandi’s win by doing laps around the house, throwing streamers and setting off fireworks then looks at Kyle and SNEERS, “you jealous we won?” This should’ve been the point where the producers intervened and put baby Kimmy to bed, but obviously the show must go on so that we can watch this train wreck with horror and never look away. Vincent continues to talk to the ladies like he’s reading a storybook to a bunch of restless kindergarteners at the library and they continue to snarl at each other. Brandi then wins the whole tournament and her acceptance speech consists of “I’m the only non-actress here and you’re all stupid.” Mic drop. (Or in this case, award drop).
At the climax of this very realistic portrayal of what I imagine the Real Housewives of Vegas would look like, if it existed, Kyle and Kim go into the bathroom and Kim finally spills the beans, or the pills, that Dr. Monty apparently administered to her for some pain she’s been having. Apparently even on his deathbed Monty can still be an enabler and write a few prescriptions for his recovering addict of an ex-wife. Kim then gets a little sense that maybe she should kick rocks because this poker party is turning into an after school special and Brandi offers to walk her out. Boozy Brandi tells Kim she knows EXACTLY what she’s going through and then latches her talons into Kim’s arm and says that she’ll walk Kim around like a mannequin to say goodbye to everyone so she doesn’t cause any more trouble. At this point I’m having a hard time figuring out whom this tactic is protecting more…Boozy or Pills? Regardless, Kyle tries to get through the human shield that is Boozy so she can talk to Pills and Kyle gets a little too pushy which sets off Boozy who lays a haymaker on Kyle and basically throws her down Eileen’s antique stairs. WILL KYLE SURVIVE THE FALL? Find out next week on an all-new Street Fighters of Beverly Hills. Tough stuff, lesson learned. What’s the lesson to take away, you ask? Don’t call actresses dumb.