Let us ponder for a moment, shall we, some of the monumental and soul-crushing events that have already taken place during THE ANNUAL REAL HOUSEWIVES VACATION TO AN UNKNOWN LAND BECAUSE WATCHING THESE WOMEN FIGHT ON THEIR HOME TURF HAS BECOME TEDIOUS:

1. Stranded on a boat in Amsterdam, Lisa Rinna actually formed and then said the words, “You’re a winner, Kim Richards!” because she was painfully aware that Kim Richards hated her enough to set her on fire and then snort her ashes to make all the evidence go away.

2. While surrounded by water and therefore rendered weaponless (besides the knives that live in Bethenny’s mouth), the New York crew bore witness to Kelly Bensimon gnawing the heads off gummy bears, not figuring out how to open a door, and eventually losing her entire f*cking mind in a stunning bipolar episode that she decided to then call “a breakthrough.”

3. Reclining in a hot tub in Colorado with Kyle and her own scarily-jutting clavicle, Taylor alluded to the physical abuse within her marriage. … Continue reading →

What’s even left to say anymore?

That Brooks really has cancer or that he never had cancer?

That Shannon’s marriage has legitimately been repaired or that it’s currently being held together by a very loose Band-Aid with emotional puss threatening to leak out from all sides?

That Tamra is a reformed sinner or one just taking a break from sinning due to sheer exhaustion and the recommendation of a PR rep she met while standing on line at her local CVS buying generic antifungal cream?

That Heather might or might not petition the United States Postal Service to get her very own zip code for her behemoth of a home?

That Meghan believes that her terrifyingly chilly husband truly loves her or that she just got temporarily dazzled by a proximity to fame and ended up in over her head in a marriage that reads like a Grimm’s cautionary fairytale about a once-blonde woman who was swept off her feet by a psychotic baseball player?

That Vicki is a pathetic assh*le?

As we head into … Continue reading →

It was probably somewhere around the fifth hour of watching the Senate hearing on Hillary Clinton’s role in the Benghazi attacks when a series of revelations began to sweep through my mind like a brushfire caused by an aerosol can of Resveratrol exploding inside the bidet of a marble bathroom that is Coto de Caza-adjacent:

1. There’s the ability some of us have to keep calm under pressure – and then there’s the way Hillary Clinton reacts under pressure. That woman did not so much as lightly perspire the entire time she was being grilled under hot television lights by political foes who would probably rejoice in literally roasting her over a bonfire like she was a rotisserie chicken. No matter what she was asked, her composure was nothing short of masterful. 2. And speaking of masterful, I want the name of Clinton’s makeup artist toot sweet and I’d like to buy stock in whatever company produces her matte face powder and blotting papers because – holy sh*t – those are clearly some excellent … Continue reading →