Kim is getting married again, but only this once in her lifetime! No wedding gift is necessary, just 30 minutes of your life that you’ll never get back. You can’t put a price on fab-o-lush, so no expense will be spared for this magical day, and it is going to be perfect.
OMG! Karen, can you believe it?
There’s another Big Poppa and he’s gonna take Kimmy off of our hands!
The episode opens with Kim saying she does things ass backwards. No arguments from the peanut gallery. Kim is talking to her adoring and adorbs baby, K.J. He is already a pro with the camera. He has done a great job lying in wait in the womb, listening while mommy was cat-fighting on The Real Housewives of Atlanta. I’m pretty certain that “moose” will be the first word out of his mouth when he sees Nene. Keep a shank handy in your diaper, little man, just sayin’.
We can tell that little K.J. knows how to work the system when Kim asks him if daddy did a good job with that hunk of bling on her finger. K.J. better just keep nodding in agreement and keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him.
Yeah, I can talk, but I need this to be our little secret, okay.
The man of the half-hour, Kroy a/k/a Big Poppa 2.0, comes to fix something to eat. Kim thinks they are meant to be because she doesn’t cook. She is too self-absorbed to realize it’s only a matter of self-preservation on his part to avoid food poisoning, combined with Kroy’s self-awareness of that big life insurance policy. Not only will Kroy be bringing home the bacon, he’ll be cooking it, too.
But this is the kitchen, love muffin. As the man of the house, this is where YOU belong.
Things were going smoothly until Kim just had to drop a TMI bomb, telling us that she does all of her cooking in the bedroom. There are some things that the world just doesn’t want to know. I wish Kim knew that no one wants to visualize her Hello Kitty serving up a meal. Let’s just call it Good-bye Kitty and drink heavily to get that image out of our minds.
Kim is going through some emails while the cook is doing whatever secret stuff he does. Kim says people think Kroy is crazy for buying her such a big ring. Kim agrees, but polite Kroy says it’s not crazy, with a look that leaves the psychology open to further consideration. I think the scales are tipping in Kim’s direction. The conversation moves to the wedding planning before anyone regains any sanity. Kroy thinks it shouldn’t be any problem with maybe 100 people, while Kim quickly doubles it to 200.
Kim pushes for the date of 11-11-11. She says that the number one signifies new beginnings, the two of them becoming one, and also there will be a new moon and the planets will be aligned, they will be double blessed…blah, blah, blah…whatevah. Hold on, shouldn’t they wait for 22-22-22?
The fact that it will be football season comes up. Kim asks her new hubby-to-be if all of the football players get married during football season. Kroy’s response shows what a calm, good guy he is. To one of the stupidest questions, he tries to politely tell her that no, they have to be focused on football, football, football. It’s football season and it’s his profession. Kim fails to grasp the concept of real work. I can’t help but feel both fondness and pity for Kroy. Luckily, those feelings are fleeting. Big Poppa 1.0 is looking more and more like the Big Winner in the Kim sweepstakes.
Since 11-11-11 falls on a Friday–during football season–they will have to have the reception in the ATL. He can come home early and they can have the shindig at their new dream home. Kim suggests putting a tent on the basketball court. He seems to perk up and ask if they are going to get married in the tent. She quickly nips that in the bud and tells him she’s not getting married in a tent. The disappointment is palpable. Poor kiddo. Better luck next wedding.
Kim is drooling at all of the opportunities to blow through massive amounts of cash. Kim nonchalantly drops that her first marriage lasted around 90 days. Does anyone else hear alarms going off? It was a tiny affair with her ex, her parents, and Brielle. Kim didn’t have a reception or a honeymoon, so this once in a lifetime event is going to be HUGE the second time around, like I-birthed-Honey-Boo-Boo-child huge.
This wedding is gonna be huge, I tell ya, huge!
The topic of having a budget comes up, but Kim isn’t having any of that. There is no price on fab-o-lush, or at least her fab-o-lushiveness. There needs to be a meeting of the minds here–a tall order with only one in the room. Kroy recalls his older sister’s wedding costing around $7K, but Kim is naturally adding on some zeroes. Kim asks if half a million is a lot. Would Kim think half of a million is a lot if she was asked to donate it to an orphanage in Africa? Me thinks we all know the answer.
Once her mark gives up on the budget, time for Miss Kim to vamoose. She hightails it outta there before he can change his mind. Poor darling is left washing a boiled egg and saying, “I miss you,” to the only person in the room–the camera person. The camera person doesn’t answer. The camera lingers on him washing an egg, an important metaphor for the new life he brings into the Real Housewives abattoir.
Next, we are introduced to Shun, her mad skillz stylist. It’s too bad that Shun can’t convince Kim to dress a little more like her. Shun is hip and keeping it real. She tells Kim that the timeline is ridiculous, that wedding dresses take a year or so to make. Kim obviously isn’t listening to a word that Shun is saying, except when she finally breaks down and agrees to work a miracle for Kim’s ass, but she’s gonna need pills and three unicorn hairs.
Kim and Kroy, Kim’s assistant Niki, her friend Myliek, and Kim’s mother, Karen, are a bundle of nerves in the kitchen awaiting their savior, Colin Cowie. He has planned parties for the biggest stars, like Tom Cruise, Oprah, and J-Lo. He is so damn badass I bet Martha Stewart bows and kisses his ring, or whatever sign of respect one learns in prison. As the limo approaches, the beats get louder and louder. No mistaking the music, Colin is in da house. I bet he smells dreamy, too, like a “black ice” tree air freshener.
Oooh, weee, Mr. Cowie, you smell some kinda goooooood!
The coffee klatch is in full swing when the doorbell rings.
Niki: Myliek, can you believe I’m getting paid for this shit?
Myliek: Thanks for reminding me, bitch. I’m just getting some of Kroy’s secret pasta salad that’s been sitting there on the counter for the past couple of hours.
Come on, people, didn’t you hear the music? You know dey ain’t tardy! Kim’s friend and assistant go to retrieve the lifestyle guru and bring him to be feasted upon by Kim and her mother. Colin’s assistant, Alexis, is introduced, but no one cares about her. She is immediately given a nanny uniform and told to jump to it.
Look, Alexis, don’t get too comfortable because if these Motlantians come after us, I’m going to sacrifice you first. Okay, love?
There’s some awkward talk from Karen, Kim’s mother, followed by an awkward silence, really awkward silence. Colin actually seems a little uncomfortable being called “love” and cute. I feel badly for the fresh South African meat. Kim asks Colin what he’d like to drink, to which he responds, “As much as possible.” You and me both, Colin, you and me both.
One requirement that Kim has for the wedding of the century is good wine, not like that shitty wine that Cynthia and Peter served at their wedding. Kim just knew they’d be serving swill, so Miss Prepared For Shitty Wine brought her own bottle. Keeping it classy. The rapport between Kim and the planner extraordinaire is smooth. Kim wants to spend money and Colin wants to help her do it. It is becoming harder to tell who is the cheetah and who is the gazelle.
Stop looking at me like that, Kim. You’re only paying 7 figures, and no one looks at me like that for less than 8 figures.
Nothing is too small or too grand, except the thought of her guests, her invited guests, walking through her front door to get to the reception. What is up with this snob? Kroy pointed out the dumpster in the driveway that the guests could promenade around. Colin puts his foot down that it is rude, so the lovebirds agree to let the 200 dear, close personal friends that she personally invites to her wedding enter through the front door, only once, with full security blocking them from venturing off the direct path to the backyard. Kim still doesn’t agree, though, that she should let actual people in her private space that the cameras are broadcasting to the world.
Colin tells Kim they’re telepathic. One has to wonder what they slipped in the wedding planner’s drink. Kim asks Colin what the number is looking like, to which he responds it’s in seven figures. She doesn’t blink, but I think I heard a loud thump, sorta like an Atlanta Falcons player making some extra bounty money for a New Orleans Saints lineman.
Everyone steps over the big lump on the floor and heads outdoors to the future scene of the dream wedding. Kim suggests covering up the cement pond with all sorts of crystals and light-catching crap and “plank” the guests/thieves on either side. Our girl is gonna get married on the Jacuzzi. Now you know why the wedding maven gets the big bucks.
The party planner is alleged to have exited stage left and Jen, the Matron of Honor, enters the scene. Jen seems like a lot of fun and has been Kim’s best friend for 12 years. This is not believable as she appears to still have a functioning brain. No one knows of Jen unless they’re in Kim’s inner circle. That makes my mind wander off. What exactly is Kim’s inner circle like? What’s the other side of a black hole?
A size two? Yeah, right, my ass.
The focus of their energy is The Dress. Kim pulls up pictures of a Baracci dress she saw in a window display while driving in California three years ago. Kim knew it was The Dress and had to try it on. She must have this dress…that she saw three years ago…for a wedding in eight weeks.
Hey, Jen, do you remember this melon holder from back in the day?
Thank goodness for Google saving the day because Kim finds the $58K dress for sale, but it’s used…and a size 2. I’m glad Kim didn’t even attempt to snow anyone into thinking she’s a size 2. Jen gets a kick out of the thought of Kim wearing a used dress. Jen warns her that it could have bed bugs from being on the floor of a hotel, or that the previous owner might’ve been defiled while wearing it. Kim worries more about the previous bride’s “energy” stored up in there, rather than it being used as a mattress in a cheap hotel for a little smooshy-smooshy. Kim will simply have it quarantined, exterminated, and boiled. After fumigation, some hand sanitizer will work wonders.
Now, on to the cake. Jen, thinking of Kroy’s roots, suggests a 4-wheeler cake with a moose. Kim nixes that idea because the only thing she thinks of when she hears moose is Nene Leakes. I’m pretty sure Nene is not going to take kindly to that remark. When you wake up one night and Nene is standing over you, Kim, remember this scene.
That hater said what?
Next destination is to meet with Golldum, the Lord of the Wedding Rings. Kim wants black diamonds, make that rows of black diamonds. Golldum recommends a third row of white diamonds in the center. It will be sorta like the Oreo of wedding rings. He is loving when she says $50K isn’t much and almost wets himself. Golldum likey, indeed.
Look, Googillum, or whatever your name is. I’m not playing with you.
Get me the most expensive ring in the world or I will cut your ass!
Kim has only one more demand of Golldum, that he make that ring big enough for bitches to see from Texas that he’s married. Me thinks Golldum will gladly satisfy Miss Kimmy’s desire. I don’t think Kim needs to worry about the size or bling of his ring, she needs to worry about a woman like herself or when Kroy is going to suddenly awaken from whatever trance he is in. Okay, Golldum, you creep, beat it back to Mordor, we’re done with you.
I’m not creepy!
I’m precioussss. I’m preciousssss.
While K.J. is asleep with probably ten nannies watching him, Kim sneaks out to chat with her daughters, Brielle and Ariana. Her daughters are good kids, especially Ariana who always volunteers to help and seems genuinely sweet and kind. Kim tells her daughters what an elegant and extravagant party planner she has engaged to give her a fairy tale wedding. Kim says her dress is being poofed up and perfect. Hmmm…that’s not what you told us earlier.
Kim tells her adoring daughters how damn good she looks for having three children and wants that dress to be tight. Her daughters are sitting there quietly taking all of this in and trying to keep their brains and souls from being sucked out by the huge vacuum roaring in front of them.
The girls are filled in on all of the fab-o-lushity that will reign supreme on lucky 11-11-11. Momma will walk across the cement pond, which throws off the girls when they know there will be no Jesus moments with Kim. The runway will be full of crystals. The day will be glamorous, beautiful, and fun. Being the whacky awesome mother that she is, Kim then throws Ariana into the pool unexpectedly. She then goes to toss in the older one who puts up a struggle and screams, “I will cut you, bitch.” Her younger daughter manages to climb out of the pool, despite the sides being greased down with Crisco to keep her in, and it’s time for a big dysfunctional group hug.
The next episode looks like a boobelage extravaganza. Be sure to come back for more! You know you want it!
But, Miss Kim, this is from our stripper line, not bridal.
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