There are some beliefs I will simply never abandon:
1. Just because you are good and decent to someone does not mean that you will receive the same kindness in return.
2. With the availability of so many choices in undergarments, there is absolutely no excuse anymore for having a visible panty line.
3. Coconut oil can be brought in to solve almost any beauty crisis known to man.
4. The most monumental events deserve a party – and every good party should have a theme.
It was with these undeniable certainties splashing around my head that the idea came to me: I should throw a party to commemorate the last episode of Vanderpump Rules! I got to work immediately. A multitasker by nature, I prepared for the festivities by swishing coconut oil inside of my mouth for ten minutes straight all the while wearing a nude-colored thong that will not show through a single garment I own. As the disgusting mixture cleaning my teeth began to froth and foam, I made some choices about party details:
o Obviously, the invitation will begin with a wardrobe decree. All of my guests must show up in a crop top or they will not be permitted through the front door – and I don’t even care if that means I will lose out on a few hostess gifts. These crop tops are the only way I see fit to appropriately honor Scheana and I’ll be damned if anyone shows up with a fully covered tummy!
o I think it’s always a nice touch to serve a signature cocktail. The one I’ll be offering up will have a ring of crushed Adderall lining the rim of the glass because if you think the cast of this show is not constantly hyped up on that sh*t – or something even whiter – you too are high.
o Music always creates a vibe and I shall spin James’ PUMP CD on repeat. Not only will this choice be a lovely way to recognize what James has called the greatest achievement in his pathetic life, but it will also guarantee that I’ll get rid of all of my guests at a decent hour because my assumption is that some of them will hightail it off the premises to get away from that noise and a few will even fake their own deaths just to get me to press mute for a second.
o As for the décor, I will obviously have humongous posters of Scheana festooned across my walls so we can all feel for a moment what it’s like to be stuck in her living room. See, I am a hostess who wants to craft not just a party, but an experience.
o I’ll be serving appetizers and desserts. Though some think they’re gauche, pigs n’ a blanket are coming out of my kitchen along with fried goat cheese balls, the only item on SUR’s menu I’ve ever heard mentioned. For dessert, there will be a cake in the shape of Lala’s t*ts because the poetry that falls from the lips of our favorite fun bitch is always worth paying attention to and she did, after all, recently opine that every occasion is appropriate for her t*ts to come out. I think that means her mammaries should thus be immortalized in buttercream.
o The gift bags I’ll hand out to my startled guests as they stampede their way out the door will be stuffed with cookies in the shape of dildos so Stassi won’t feel left out. There will also be a tee from Kristen’s wildly successful fashion line that can be burned to smithereens on a night when you feel a little chilly and you’re out of more traditional forms of kindling.
o While the party is underway, I will be very busy. A hostess’ work is never done, so I will ensure everyone has both a drink and a wad of gauze to stop their ears from bleeding due to the music. I figure the triage unit will enter the place somewhere around midnight to mop up the blood that was shed when several partygoers shoved the toothpicks from the pigs n’ blankets clear into their ear canal so they could spontaneously go deaf. I’ll use that diversion to steal all of my guests’ sunglasses from their purses because doing such a thing will make me feel close to Jax and a proximity to a douchebag is all I really crave in life.
o Candles will be lit and they will illuminate the room in a gorgeous and flattering glow that will make it look like we all just got Botox. The scent of the candles are meant to highlight what this party is all about, so I shunned vanilla candles and I turned away from the smell of lemon verbena. No, the candles I purchased will stink of pure desperation. They were on sale at Bath and Body Works. Go buy some today!
o Make your peace now with the fact that nobody at the party will get laid. Our collective celibacy will be carried out as a way to pay homage to Katie and Schwartz’s relationship because friends support one another tirelessly.
o And while entrance to the party will be by invitation only, I have secured an extra twelve bottles of wine because I’m imagining Kristen will show up precisely because she was not invited. As I loathe wearing the same outfit as anyone else, I will not be donning a crop top for the evening, but I will also refrain from wearing my green dress with the plunging neckline just in case Kristen wears hers too because she decided it would be nice to get it out of the house for a reason other than to wear it while casually going to pick up her mail from her ex-boyfriend’s apartment. After all, nothing says “I’m over you” better than flaunting your nipples to someone who recently decided that you are the single worst thing to ever happen to him in all of his years on this sprawling planet.
Sure, I have a bit of party planning anxiety, but I know that celebrating part three of the Vanderpump Rules reunion is something that should – nay, something that must – be done. Now please excuse me while I go put on a hideous statement necklace and light the candles so the festivities can begin!
What is left to even to talk about anymore on this reunion? I mean, we’ve covered the fact that James is a doofus who fancies himself a musical genius and we know that Jax wants to punch the guy’s face in. It’s been confirmed that Kristen shuns dignity like I shun eel and that Stassi is clearly back because she goes where the cameras are. It’s pretty evident Ariana barely tolerates most of this crew and that there’s no limit on the bullsh*t Sandoval and Schwartz will accept from their friends. With all this already made clear, what else are we possibly in for as I serve my Adderalltinis? Are the locusts coming?
The swarm of plague-y beasts will have to wait because we begin tonight with Andy asking Lisa about Stassi’s sex tape. Lisa explains that she felt protective of Stassi because of the embarrassment she must have felt that footage of her and a dildo were making the rounds at SUR, and she did a kind thing by paying off the d*ckhead who was all but trying to extort the girl. Unfortunately, Stassi is not fully grateful. No, she would have preferred Lisa had whipped up a contract and hired a notary and made the guy pinky swear that the images would never see the light of day.
Moving on to a far less palatable subject than a gross invasion of privacy, Andy would like to question James about the time he told his boss that Lala was munching out some guy’s assh*le. (I think the opportunity for this show to ever win a Peabody Award has officially been demolished.) At any rate, the rimjob was brought up because James was annoyed Lala wasn’t tonguing his assh*le for the evening – and because the guy is a prick in general. Seriously, if White Kanye could have internalized anything from Real Kanye, it should have been that there are men out there who do not appreciate the public knowing that they like tongues and fingers creeping towards their sphincters. All I could think about while watching this segment was, yes, we clearly needed a third part to this reunion because none of us would have been able to properly function without hearing about the revolting jealousy Lala and James, two total cretins, harbor for one another, a jealousy that sometimes manifests with comments about ass licking and condoms that slip right off a slender winky.
Moving on to Pucker & Pout – the style blog Katie launched – she’s still grossed out that James showed up uninvited so he could berate Kristen for not wanting to be with him, at least for that evening when she’d momentarily snagged somebody better. Truly, the bile-spewing vitriol James unleashes on women who shun his advances is diabolical and the guy needs severe therapy where he can discuss his childhood. Then he needs to be kicked hard in the testicles by a group of feminists who have had enough of this loser’s misogyny.
As for why Stassi reached out to Schwartz in an effort to mend her friendship with the girl she gleefully ditched last year, she knew he would be levelheaded about things. Jax applauds how Schwartz handled the whole thing and this might be the one time I have ever agreed with Jax about anything because Schwartz handled that meeting like a pro. He was honest and he didn’t let Stassi off the hook for her deplorable treatment of a friend and I’d be really happy for all of them had a single one of these incidents not transpired during production because all I can walk away with as a bystander is that Stassi missed infamy far more than she’s ever missed a friendship.
Also: Stassi claims she’s not at all calculating. Since it’s apparently Opposite Day, I’d like to declare that I’m a virgin.