Recap: Hey Paula!: Mad, Saddened, and Not Drunk at All

I am not the kind of person who can just sit with bad news all alone in my apartment. I have to share it with the world!! Tsunami in the Indian Ocean? Call me! A new war brewing with Iran? Let’s have lunch! Oh, Paula! still isn’t cancelled? Call Mary Jane and get your butt to my couch. We’ve got a train wreck to tailgate!

Previously, Paula made an ass out of herself on national TV when she showed up to an American Idol press junket blitzed off her ass. She’s got a lot to deal with in tonight’s episode, and she’s gonna have to rise to the challenge without pills in her stomach, booze down her gullet, or a needle in her vein. Life is haard. What? You try detoxing when you’re tiiiiiiirrreeedd!!!

I know this is gonna shock you, but today Paula’s very very busy. She has to get to LA for a “gifting suite” and then it’s off to Vegas to receive the Woman of the Year Award. Sorry, Hillary Clinton, but you just didn’t make the cut this year. Maybe you should spend a little less time worrying about suicide bombers and a little more time finding some Ginormous Clunky Jewelry to slap your name on.

Before she does anything, though, she must attend a Summit of I’m Screwed. All the top non advising advisors are in attendance to put out last week’s falling down drunk tiiiiiiirrreeeedd fire. Paula tells us that these rumors that she was wasted have made her mad and saddened, and she doesn’t mince (or properly pronounce) words to the Summit. She’s sick of all these lies in the media and they better do something about it! “I didn’t do ANYTHING!” She insists that she doesn’t do dru….recreational drugs and she’s not drunk (on TV). Heeellppp meee wah waaaah!!! Should she give a press conference? YES!! Please give a press conference!!

Meeting of the Never-Minds

Publicist Guy tells us the truth is that Paula was tired and sick, but “it is what it is”. In other words, she looked like she was wasted and that’s all that matters. His job is to come up with a strategic plan to save our hero, which is awesome because his strategic plan up to now has been to cash his paycheck, nod and smile, and take naps. I’m interested to see what he can come up with now that he’s been called off the bench. Will he advise her to adopt a Katrina baby? Donate a house to Habitat for Humanity? Rehab? Nope, even better! He suggests going back on American Idol and replacing the negative energy with positive. Um… thanks?

She cries and screams at him for doing nothing to refute the alchie accusations. He just shrugs, which sends her into a teary monologue. “I’m sick of…sick! Sick of…I’m treated like dog shit! I didn’t do ANYTHING!!”

No real tears are coming out yet, so she does the finger countdown, telling us what this debacle is costing her. Cue the deep breaths, violins, and the SQEEEEEZE! “I’m losing my reputation (1), my financial gain (2), my creativity (3)…” She looks down and realizes that she has two fingers left and no more things to lose, so she grabs all her fingers and squeezes out “I’m sick of it! Enough is enough already!” (5). The camera guy is very careful to show us over and over that Paula is drinking only Vitamin Water, which makes you really smart. Keep sipping. It just takes time to build up in your system.

Absolut Vitamin

The Summit of I’m Screwed stays quiet and watches her sob. Then Publicity Guy chimes in and shows us why he makes the big bucks. Paula will do every interview she can! And make every appearance! She’s a product, and as long as their product doesn’t suck, they’ll be ok. Can you imagine if every product had this advertising strategy? McDonald’s would have lasted a week. How the hell are we supposed to know what doesn’t suck if you don’t tell us? FIRE THIS TWERP!!!!

Paula decides to take this advice, because really what choice does she have? There’s no saving a forest once it’s already burnt to the ground. All you can do is plant new seeds and wait 20 years. And so, she’s off to LA for the gifting suite. This is where designers bestow free jewels, clothing, and other products on celebrities in exchange for publicity. She’s nervous, because after the past week, she doesn’t know that anyone wants her name attached to their products. Aw, Paula. Versace has a diamond encrusted pill case somewhere in his repertois, I’m sure. She bucks up and goes despite her insecurity, which is astoundingly brave. You’re gonna raise your head high and accept as much free crap as you can. I smell a HERO!

Soldier on, Braveheart.

There’s no sadness a $300,000 ring can’t cure. Jewels are bestowed on her despite her recent troubles, proving that no publicity is bad. The only snag she hits is when she wants a really hideous beaded top that she is told is on hold. Oh, hell no. There isn’t a tag on it! Who’s it being held for? “Someone bigger than me?!?” The designer smiles and tries not to punch her in the face. She stands wobbily firm. She’s not leaving without it. “No taggy, no holdy!” Oh, Paula. Not only does she look like a spoiled brat, she made an Asian joke. Winning the people over, one race at a time.

As they pack the car, Cojo suggests Range Rover come out with a special edition extra large trunk for rich people. Ew! They should also come out with a special edition extra large back seat for rich people’s stylist’s huge asses. Paula doesn’t have money to tip the driver, so Cojo hands over some cash. HAHAHA. He’s so not getting that back.

Paula pats herself on the back for doing such a good job at this appearance. Seriously. Now she’s headed for Vegas to accept her Woman of the Year Award, and she has to…take a deep breath, talk to the media! She’s worried, and I’m so excited I can barely hold in my peepee. Does your back hurt, P? Maybe you should pop a Vicy.

Ruh Roh. They haven’t even had an ounce of fun in Vegas yet and already Publicist Guy finds out a mag in LA is about to run an article that he had no knowledge of. Shocker. It quotes Paula as saying “I’ve never had a drink”, which is a misquote. She is fuming, and gets the editor on the phone. “I never said I never had a drink! I said I didn’t have sexual relations with that woman!” She threatens that if they don’t get her quote right, she’s coming after them. Damn. Threats are a great way to get the press on your side. Dumbass. Next, you should make the press line wait an hour for you so you don’t have to answer any questions. Totally took my advice!!

I do my best thinking from the floor, too. BFF!

She refuses to come out of her dressing room to greet the reporters until the last second, and when she does emerge, it’s with a fresh bottle of Stank. She rubs it all over everyone who crosses her path and tells them how great it smells. No one agrees, but no one slaps her hand away either. She’s like the Costco lady who gets stuck with pigs in a blanket every day. No one goes crazy for her tray, but who’s gonna pass up free weenies?

Finally, she gets outside, where the press line awaits. At first, she is too nervous to stand still, so she just turns in circles. I’m not kidding. She just keeps turning. She’s wearing the same dress from the Grammys, which is pretty lame since she just made out with thousands of dollars worth of free clothes at the gift suite. This dress is like jeans are to a normal person. You get at least five wears before you have to do laundry. I wonder how that dress smells. You know her staff didn’t get it dry cleaned. Old Stank and stale ass is my guess. Tomorrow’s Press: She came out an hour late, spun around in circles, and stank like ass and…well, Stank. Nice work.

The first reporter asks her if she’s been treated unfairly in the press and she says “No, no! I’m not gonna….I’ve been a target. Get over it, ya know?” Oooh. Bad answer. Did anyone prep her? Like I have to ask.

Next, she demands a do over because she had been standing under a blazing heat lamp and her face was melting off. She tries to widdle one reporter’s time down to five minutes instead of seven, but the girl answers “Uh-uh! I’ve been standing out here for over an hour!” LOL, way to stand up for yourself, kid. Seven minutes it is. But it’s coooold!!! Publicist guy snarks “Oh, now we’re cold.” Who’s side are you on, biatch?

Paula turns to him and says she can’t be late for her award and he points at his watch and makes her turn back around. Uh, hello. That was a signal. Girl Reporter asks Paula if she’s crazy. LOL again, Reporter Girl! This bitch doesn’t mess around. Paula says she never claimed not to be crazy. She has to be crazy to be on the re…cip..recipt…recipe…rhinoplasty…reincarnation…rialta..reci…recrecrecrec….recieving end of Simon’s pokes. Just so she gets it, Paula pokes Reporter Girl all over.

Even reporters stationed on the battlefields of Iraq don’t flinch this much.

As she walks away, she realizes that she probably just looked really drunk on camera. “I meant to say reciprocal…I mean recipe…recipreci….no fair!!” She insists that Publicist Guy makes that interview disappear. Riiiight. Good luck with that. Reporter Girl looks gives her a look that says “There’s no way in Hell, lady. Have a drink.”

One interview left. She asks the reporter when he’s ever seen pictures of her out drinking and partying. “As if!” She’s too busy working, and creating, and… multitasking. She doesn’t have time to go out. She gets shitfaced at home or at dinner with friends. A lot of celebrities don’t take being a role model seriously, but she’s been a teacher for twenty years, dammit, and she wants those little girls to look up to her! Um…get on a stool?

Simon, Randy and Tink are there to support her onstage. After Tink makes the obligatory “Cowell shops at Baby Gap” joke, Simon says there would be no heart on American Idol without Paula, and they L-O-V-E her. AWWWW!!!! I almost squirted a couple out.

My heart was refrozen instantly when Robert Goulet popped up on my TV. What the hell is he still doing alive?!? He says nice stuff about Paula, but I can’t hear it because my TV is covered in silly string. Leave me alone, Robert Goulet!

Stop torturing me, Goulet!

Paula’a night was a huuuge success, and she’s proud of facing the media so honestly. LOLOLLLLL!! Wait. She’s not kidding. Oh, and she’s TIIIIIRRRRED!!!!

Since the media bought her pack o’ lies and wrote nice stuff about her, she was invited on the Tonight Show. Kiley is in charge of driving the new Range Rover to the studio, and watching her try to figure out how to back out of the wide ass driveway had me in stitches. Paula yells the whole time and finally takes out her keys and presses the car alarm buttons toward the street. Oh, Paula!

Hey! I made that cloud move!

When she finally gets on the stage, Leno simply asks “What’s goin’ on, nut nut?” Paula says the whole “Paula’s an addict” thing was a mistake. She was being asked one question from one city while she was on air with another, and it made her look crazy during her junket. Ah, honesty. Feels good, doesn’t it? She’s happy as a peach because the (lie pie) interview went well and now the tide is turning… until next week, where she shows up late for something and has a crying cow. I’m not sure what happens, but whatever it is inspires her to utter the line “I’m sick of people not treating me like the gift that I am” with a straight face. Dammit. Now I have to watch next week. I’ll get you for this, Bravo!!!