Hallo, (that’s Dutch for Hello) because you guessed it, we’re STILL in Amsterdam and I’m STILL uncomfortable. Hasn’t this country been through enough? Haven’t I been through enough? Apparently not, because this week’s episode paired a gentleman my age (23) with Brandi Glanville and I’ve officially lost all hope with men. Yep, Brandi (42 years old) is hanging and banging with one of Max Vanderpump’s school buddies. It’s one thing to do this in the privacy of your rented home, but to film your sloppy date and give everyone else the cringes is a whole different ball game. Girl clearly has no problem with it though, or coming off as a thirsty middle aged woman because she gets slob kebab drunk with this Amsterman (can we call him a man yet?), describes him as a “beautiful cock” (WEE-OOOWW WEEE-OWWWW here come the Uncomfortable Police) and then asks for tongue kisses at dinner (insert monkey covering mouth full of puke emoji.) AHH, MY EYES. Also, not to distract from the real problem at hand THE SLAP, Lisa obviously still hates Brandi and wouldn’t accept flowers from her…and I’m guessing isn’t in LOVE with the fact that she’s now at penetration station with someone Lisa used to serve sliced apples and PB to after school.
Speaking of everyone who hates Brandi, the ladies go to dinner while Brandi is on the precursor to a Lifetime movie date, and squeal like little piggies with delight that she won’t be joining them. They prove how grateful they are that she’s not there by then spending the majority of their dinner talking shit about her. This is how women celebrate. Duh. Then the conversation naturally transitions to live sex shows and ladies shooting objects out of their coochies. Don’t eva change, housewives. Yo also reminds us that she’s a flawless human being when she goes to tell a story and not so casually name drops that she used to date Julio Iglesias. Although I’m sure that this man was a spicy hunk taco when he was younger, my sources (the Google) says this is what he looks like now and no offense Yo, we probably could’ve gone without that very pointed toss of a name. Even Windmill guy looks better than this ole leather bags.
Not a minute too soon, the ladies all return to their diamond caves of Beverly Hills to rehash the trip from hell to anyone who will listen (each other.) Yolanda goes to watch Brandi get a facial and ask her why she’s gotta be such a dick all the time. Brandi cries a lot. Adrienne “Parched for Fame” Maloof is back for her monthly paycheck and apparently she’s friends with Kim. Who knew? Kim retells the night of wine glass slamming to Adrienne, with the help of flashbacks (as if we could ever forget) and artfully glosses over the fact that she acted like a real psycho that night. Adrienne is sympathetic and comforting, hm I wonder why…Meanwhile, Rinna and Kyle talk about how they still have Amsterdam PTSD that keeps them up and night and upping their dosages of Xanax for fear of Kim’s triumphant revenge. Nothing new here, except for the fact that Rinna narc’s on Brandi suggesting an intervention for Kim. Kyle’s eyes get a glimmer as she sticks that juicy tidbit into her cleavage for later.
Later comes sooner than expected when Kyle invites Kim out to the desert to kill her and bury her body underneath the house she stole from Kim. Ah, sisters. Kyle muses on her limo ride up, “I have a love affair with the desert.” I picture an actual affair with a cactus, that is until I see the sprawling mansion with massive infinity pool in the backyard. I too, have a love affair with the desert. The ladies exchange pleasantries about the house that Kyle has basically never been to in the three years she’s owned it, go figure, and reminisce about their childhood days frolicking around a different mansion in a hotter climate. This is all good and well, but for me, Kim really missed an opportunity here to take one look at Kyle’s maxi dress with actual flames printed on it and make a desert forest fire joke about it. As in, that dress should be ablaze in a forest fire rather than on your bodice. But whatever. The sisters Richards (sans Kathy, sigh.) hash out their 50 years of conflict and suppressed anger, starting with the recent Poker Party, Choke slam fight, and then quickly hopping all the way back to the stolen house. No seriously, the YOU STOLE MY HOUSE fight is still happening. Kyle slips that insider info out of her pushup bra that Brandi has been floating around a Kim intervention. Kim finally has enough and flips the bipolar switch, shouting YOU’RE LYING, amping up the crazy eyes and jabbing that finger of hers. This comes to a brief intermission because the burgers that no one saw Kyle put on the grill because she most certainly has a chef in the desert, are burning. Kyle cries over the burgers or Kim or whatever and Kim gives her a hug and says she loves her. Hugsies and tearsies in the desert and we’ve efficiently swept the sisters Richards heaping pile of shit under the Turkish rug. Next week is the season finale, at Adrienne “I want to be known as a party planner” Maloof’s soiree with magicians and our final round of public smackdowns, before the two-part reunion, OBV.