Oh, Kelly. You are such a tragic moron. First of all, you managed to convince yourself it would be nothing short of wise and incredibly fun to go on this show, even though you claim to have been a multimillionaire for eons and therefore must not need the money. Secondly, you waded into these (well publicized) rage-filled waters although you’ve diagnosed yourself with the very broad and convenient ailment of Anger Issues. Thirdly, you bizarrely chose to align yourself with perhaps the only human lady in the entire stratosphere less appealing than you are and you actually then had the idiotic gumption to raise the millionth glass of alcohol you’ve swallowed since you’ve been on this show and toasted to the fact that everyone else must simply be devastated that they can’t BE you, even after it’s been made alarmingly clear that to be you means to be ostracized because most decent people refuse to even attempt to stomach your hideous personality. Cheers, Kelly! Here’s to your eyes growing ever wider in surprise that everyone besides your ill-chosen mentor thinks you’re psychotic — and not even psychotic in an interesting way like the Countess on The Real Housewives of New York has continually proven herself a psycho with her never-ending delusions of grandeur. You, Kelly, are just a generic psycho and I’m bored with your antics already. Who do I have to blow at Bravo to make sure you don’t return next season? You might not be willing to suck d*ck to get what you want, but I’ll make an exception and go ahead and open wide if it means I never have to lay eyes on you again until I see you on the eventual commercials for Marriage Boot Camp.
Where last we left off, Shannon and David were renewing their vows and Kelly was putting Vicki (Vicki!) on her payroll as Mentor Extraordinaire since who better than a lying assh*le who’s been shunned by anything with a pulse to instruct Kelly on the finer points of personal betterment? Tonight, the magic continues, but I feel like I ought to add a quick disclaimer first: my wi-fi has apparently been taken over by a demon and has been flickering on and off all day, much like Kelly’s sanity. As such, I’m writing this recap on my phone in my Notes app — so this might be shorter than usual because typing an entire piece with my pointer finger is more difficult than it seems. I will, however, switch to my middle finger whenever Vicki graces the screen. Such a choice only seems appropriate.
We begin this week in the afterglow of Shannon and David’s marital rebirth. I don’t normally actually care about what happens to anyone on these shows, but I can’t help but root for Shannon. It takes a massive amount of emotional fortitude to come back from such a low point, and I give her credit for working so hard to achieve this present sense of peace and joy. Sure, the other vow renewals we’ve seen play out on this franchise have rarely turned out so well in the long-run, but I hope this one will be different. And now that I’ve publicly supported one marriage, I feel pretty okay coming right out and questioning why Meghan has yet to run fleeing from HER husband. Man, this guy sucks. Plus, I take personal offense to the fact that she’s trying to sell us on the idea that dear Jimmy is actually dying for a vow renewal ceremony of his own. I’d sooner believe he actually watched the videos his wife sent him of her in vitro process and then called her to perform a song he wrote on the recorder he expressly learned to play to celebrate the inner joy he felt about becoming a father again.
Over at the Merv Griffin Estate, Vicki arrives with her daughter and her grandsons. She’s there to celebrate her birthday with all of her two friends, Tamra and Kelly. There are pools abounding and I’m certain the alcohol will soon be flowing and I am going to be like Tamra for a moment and pray to the heavens that Vicki doesn’t strip down and straddle a swan float while screaming, “Whoo hoo!” more than two times over the course of this weekend because that sort of image might never leave my mind and I’ve really been through enough in my life. Not attending the festivities of a woman she hates is Shannon. She and David are off to Cabo for their second honeymoon and once her distilled water for her nasal machine is officially packed, the two of them are good to go.
Turns out that Meghan will be in the desert anyway, so she will stop by and say hello to Vicki as a peace offering, but Heather has chosen to stay home with her kids rather than be in any airspace Kelly clogs with her awfulness and her frequent shouts of “C*nt!” Lest anyone worry, Vicki will not be spending her birthday without a man because one of the many men who are sick enough to sleep with her will be showing up at some point because the only thing Vicki can do less convincingly than act like a normal human being is act like a SINGLE human being. She will get married again if it f*cking kills her and I only pray she asks Brooks to be her flower girl.
Also: whichever editor decided it would be awesome to show us a flashback of Brooks’ mangled teeth in close-up needs to be fired, though you know that guy just got a promotion. I’d rather listen to Vicki talk about a yeast infection than ever see such a sight ever again.
I will go ahead and give Vicki credit for being kind enough to bring Brianna’s husband out to surprise her. It can’t be easy for Brianna to be ill and raising two toddlers without her husband around, so there — I just said something nice about Vicki. And now that I’ve done that, I’ll move immediately back to discussing how totally hateful a person she is, like when she all but shrugs after hearing about Shannon’s vow renewal because it just kills her that she wasn’t invited, though it doesn’t kill her enough to take ownership for the fact that she and her scuzzy boyfriend were the ones to piss all over the friendship with urine that smelled as rotten as Brooks’ original teeth looked.
Intelligent enough to be nowhere near Vicki and Kelly, Heather is celebrating a date night with her very busy husband. Unfortunately, Terry has been away so often for work that his kids are now overtly commenting on his very frequent absences. (That picture his kid sent him of an empty chair was brutal — and effective as hell.) Seems the guilt trip worked; Terry proclaims he will no longer work on weekends. It’s an announcement Heather loves hearing, but it’s also one she’s not ready to believe until she sees his priorities actually change.