This week on Million Dollar Listing: Chad gets some bad news about Cuttino’s house. Madison, in the most boring segment yet, sells a house to some spoiled rich kid. Trust Fund, on the other hand, comes across as almost sympathetic. I know, right?! Let’s get started so we can get ended.
When a fat stinky French guy makes fun of your grooming skills, you need to check yourself.
Whee! Another hour of Real Estate Agent$ and ego$ on Million Dollar Li$ting. Another annoying credit sequence where Bravo has oh-so cleverly $ub$tituted “s” for “$.” Another hour of suicide contemplation by yours truly. Let’s get started, shall we?
Trust Fund drives to Pierre’s house. Pierre is a client, whose son Reuben is also going to be involved and . . . son of a bitch! We’re not even 2 minutes into this piece of crap, and here comes the damn house-showing music. Yeah, so the house is big and all, but there’s like one piece of furniture in each room. It’s kind of creepy. Sunken whirlpool tub. Pool. Chandelier. Meanwhile, you sit on the futon you got from Target, in the irregular sweat pants you bought in bulk from Costco, eating Cheetos directly out of the bag. I’m not judging, it’s just that you’re not nearly as fabulous as anyone on this show.
Anyway, Pierre asks Trust Fund if he wants some coffee, or water, or whiskey, or champagne. Trust Fund is all, “Yeah, whiskey!” And Pierre is all, “It’s 9:30 in the morning.” Trust Fund says, “Yeah, let’s go for it!” I believe Pierre thinks that he’s kidding. Why the hell do people do business with Trust Fund? He constantly looks like he’s hung-over, probably because he actually is, and he’s completely unprofessional. Pierre says the house is too big. Agreed, dude – you have like 2 beds and a treadmill. Pierre says the house should go for $10 million, Trust Fund says $7 million. Pierre makes some Lakers analogy. I don’t know. Pierre, being French, is annoying and stinky. They agree on $8.5 million.
That kitchen must be stank.
Chad is still trying to work with Cuttino. Whoo. More house-selling music as we’re shown Cuttino’s house. We saw it last week, you stupid Bravo bitches! Chad sits Cuttino down and shows him some houses. Chad tries to talk to Cuttino about market value and blah, and Cuttino just sits there, as if this is first time he’s hearing the English language. He’s like Nell, if Nell was a black man who played basketball for a second-rate team that no one outside L.A. has even heard of.
Madison. He’s taking some kid to see a house, because he “wants to get out of the dorms and into a house before school starts.” What the fuck? Dude, it’s called Craigslist. Let’s begin hating Taylor, shall we? He goes to Pepperdine University, he’ll be a junior, and he wanted to move off campus. So daddy gave him a budget of $1.5 million. Which is exactly like my college experience when I moved off-campus. I’m sure Taylor, like me, will have to work both on-campus and also at the American Eagle distribution center to earn money for rent. He wants 3 or more bedrooms. Completely reasonable. I guess Mad has no houses to show in his price range. House-selling music as Mad show a house that’s listed for $1.8 million. Taylor hates it. I hate Taylor. I hate this show. Hate. Mad shows another house for $2.3 million. Taylor says the house is “feminine.” So it should be perfect! Whatever. He calls his daddy in Dallas and says that the market is different in California. So daddy is coming down from Texas. Oh! I hope he’s exactly like Joe Don Baker! You know, Mitchell? My my my my Mitchell. Come on! MST3K!
Just because I haven’t started growing hair on any part of my body doesn’t mean I want a girl house.
Back to stinky Pierre and his empty house. Pierre agrees to $8.495 million. Hee! He calls Trust Fund a drama queen AND he says, “Fuck him” when Trust Fund leaves. Oh, merde! C’est vrai, non? Oui. C’est vrai et amusant. Sacre bleu! And so on.
Chad says he and Victoria had a “huge” fight in Vegas. So she’s going back to Texas to think about things. You know, I’d much rather see a show about Victoria. Actually, at this point, I’d much rather see a show about Chad’s car. Even if it was just sitting in a parking garage, that’d be fine by me. Exhaust fumes. Are everything. Vic says she loves Chad to death, but is unsure of living with someone. She leaves for her flight, without hugging Chad or saying goodbye, but I think that’s an editing thing.
Speaking of editing, we’re back to Mad and Taylor. Taylor’s dad flies in on a freaking private jet. Can’t he fly commercial like P. Diddy? And then whine about it on YouTube and expect Americans to feel sorry for him? Taylor’s dad has a Texas accent and is about 80 years old.
What ever happened to John Voight?
Back at Trust Fund’s house, it’s 1 p.m. (I’m assuming), and he rolls out of bed, looking hung-over as always. He interviews that perhaps he missed out by not going to college. He is only 21 after all. Damn. I forgot how young Trust Fund is. Trust Fund says that his friends make fun of him because he has a huge pill case. That’s not a euphemism – he actually does have a huge pill case. And it’s so awesome that his friends make fun of his mental and/or physical illnesses. Trust Fund is really disillusioned.
Back to Mad, who talks about Big Daddy and how he might be shocked at how expensive the houses are. Might? He’s from the south. Even the McDonald’s dollar menus are different out there. Scratch the first house – Taylor tells Mad that Big Daddy says it’s too far from campus. I don’t know what’s worse – the fact that Big Daddy makes Taylor speak to Mad or the fact that Big Daddy is making all the decisions for his 21-year-old son. You know what? They’re both bad. It’s all bad. This whole show. It’s all a big pile of steaming poo. That’s what I say. I wish they would just change the show to “Rich Assholes Being Rich Assholes.” The second house is $1.399 million. There’s no pool. Big Daddy says that it doesn’t look like a typical house for a college student and his buddies. That’s because it’s $1.399 million you stupid bastard! Here’s a typical college house: weird and indiscriminate stains on the carpet, a couch from the Salvation Army, fridge full of Natural Light, and a hole in the living room wall from that time where Jerry punched it because he was pissed he lost at Mario Kart. Also, Taylor has friends? Oh wait – he’s fucking loaded, of course he does.
Back to Chad. Today’s the first broker’s open at Cuttino’s house, and Chad opens the door to *gasp* an empty house! Ooh, it’s dramatic because the music says it is! Something tells me the Daughter of Satan, a.k.a. Lauren had something to do with it. So apparently Cuttino moved all the furniture out of the house. Chad, whose hair actually looks a bit disheveled right now (aw, it’s worried!), says that if the house was furnished it would sell a lot better. Agreed, but here’s the thing – when people move, they tend to take their stuff with them. Chad hired Raul, a “personal butler to the stars,” to hand out water to people as they enter. Raul kind of looks like Jack McFarland 20 years from now. People look at the house, which is going for $3.995 million. Chad blahs about soft market.
Holy Ashley and Mary Kate! Have some water!
Back at Stinky Pierre’s, Chad makes mimosas for people who are looking at the house. Everyone says it’s over-priced, including two men who may or may not be gay. Since it’s California, I’m just going to assume that they are. Reuben, who I think is Pierre’s son, asks Trust Fund if there are any buyers. I guess Reuben’s a budding real estate agent as well. So stay tuned for Season 3 and the adventures of Reuben! You can bet I won’t be watching! Oh, god, I sure to hell hope not. Two women enter, and Trust Fund proceeds to act like a jackass. Apparently, they’re not buyers – they’re people who go out on Sundays to get free alcohol and pretend that they can afford the house. Know how he knows? Because they’re “dressed up,” and “people with money don’t need to dress up when they come to look at an open house.” They just need to act like pompous assholes. THAT’S how you know people can afford a house.
At least remove the flaming hobos before you try and sell.
Back to Big Daddy & Co. Mad takes them to a house that costs $2.795 mill. Um, Madison? Remember when Taylor was all, “Daddy says he can only spend $1.5 million! Wah! Wah!” The house is kind of cool. In an act of realtor camaraderie, Mike, another realtor, shows the house. Who gets the commission, I wonder? Why should we care? Big Daddy calls Mad to make an offer. That was quick. But I guess he has to get back to Dallas to rape the earth for fossil fuels so Taylor can drive a quarter of a mile to the liquor store to buy Natural Light for his underage “friends.” Yeah, you heard me. Miller High Life Light.
So, at a Coldwell Banker building, which I’m not really sure is Mad’s office building, but I’m not 100% sure, Big Daddy Bloom sits down with Mad to shoot the shit. Big Daddy wants to offer $2.6 million and blah blah southern accent blah. Taylor doesn’t say a word, and something tells me this mofo is the type who doesn’t know that you should separate whites from colors when doing laundry. He’d probably put the soap on top of the clothes! Ha! Rich dumbass! Big Daddy tells Mad his terms, and Madison says, “That’s a nice package.” Big Daddy, turned on and flattered, moves in for a kiss . . . Ew, no! I’m just kidding! Ugh, sorry for that mental image. But not that sorry – you’re not watching the show.
Stupid hair competition is on, Chad!
Chad. No, not the African country, silly. The guy with the funny hair. He’s picking up Victoria from LAX. He wanted to surprise, he says, so he hired a cleaning crew to clean her condo. God, I hope she rents. If she can own a condo, then that’s it. I give up. That was nice of Chad, but if I wanted someone to move in with me, I’d hire people to go into my boyfriend’s apartment and break and steal stuff. Then I’d say, “Oh my god! Everything’s ruined! Well, now I guess you’ll have to move in with me.” And this is why I’m single. Victoria apologizes for Vegas, which she shouldn’t. All that crap was Chad’s fault. Vic, who I think has a good head on her shoulders, thinks she needs to find herself and get a job and stuff because she just graduated from college. Chad thinks that’s a good idea. Aw! Dump him, Victoria.
Hooolld on a second. Trust Fund gets out of the shower. The camera doesn’t linger on him for 30 seconds like it does when Madison showers. Probably not a bad idea. He’s not completely bad-looking, though, I have to say. Tonight is Trust Fund’s 22 birthday and his parents are throwing him a party at the Beverly Hills hotel. You guys, it’s like a freaking bar mitvah. Or, if you’re not Jewish, the 4-H dance they had at the county fairgrounds every year. I used to dee-jay ours! I was the shit, bitches. Also, my parents stopped throwing me birthday parties in like, 5th grade. Although, for my 21st birthday they took me to Worlds of Fun, which was pretty low on the list of things I wanted to do when I turned 21. I do love me some roller coasters, though.
Trust Fund dances with his friends. Yeah, I’m on the fence regarding his sexuality. From the way he grinds up on the girls – almost sexual, but not quite – I’m gonna go with bi-curious. Some weird-looking drunk-as-hell dude puts his arm around Trust Fund and says the most heinous, disgusting thing: “You’re awesome and you found me, like, my grandma a home, and she’s like fucking 90 and about to die and I’m about to get all her money I love it!” Trust Fund’s reply, “Go inside, you piece of shit!” Hee! Good for him. Oh my god, first I was feeling a bit sorry for Trust Fund and now I think he’s kind of nice and sexy and funny?! What the hell is wrong with me?! His cake is actually nice and simple-ish. Okay, you guys, I know I make fun of Josh (Trust Fund), but this next part actually makes me feel sad. Josh goes up to his room in the hotel, alone, and says that there are 150 people downstairs, but he has two friends. He says, sounding really sad, that he feels the same way he did when he turned 21, 20, 19, 18. “Just another year older.” See? That’s kind of sad. I would absolutely love it if Josh turned a complete 180, gave up real estate, and joined the Peace Corps or something. I actually think that would be good for him. Oh, I’m sorry? What’s that you’re saying? You came here to read something funny, not something sympathetic? Yeah, I’ll get right on that.
This cake is made of worms.
Chad’s back at Cuttino’s old house, and he’s showing it to another agent and her client. The wood in the wine cellar is fucked up, and after the client leaves, Chad does some house detection and discovers water damage underneath the hard wood floor. Wow, I can’t believe that someone as shady as Cuttino and his Daughter of Satan manager would neglect to tell him about that. Speak of the devil! Chad calls her on the phone. She’s probably at her desk, eating her lunch. Something light, maybe, like Wheat Thins and a mug of O Negative blood. He tells her about the wood floors and water damage, and walks outside to a big puddle of water, telling her that it’s seeping into the house. Lauren’s response? “Okay, this is what I need you to do. Lock the door to the wine cellar door and tell people there’s a wine cellar in here, but unfortunately the owners locked it and I’ll have to show it to you next time if you’re interested. Just lie.” Okay, this beyotch knows that Chad is on a tv show. She knows he’s being taped. Why the fuck doesn’t she think that maybe, just maybe, the people who end up with the house will watch the show, find out they were lied to, and sue? I can’t even see Lauren and she’s pissing me off! Chad says that he’d rather not say anything and have her get it fixed because he’s not going to lie. Atta boy.
Trust Fund calls Stinky Pierre, who tells him that he’s working on two offers. Both of the offers are Reuben’s clients. Reuben is Pierre’s son remember. I’m sure you remember, and I’m sure you don’t care.
You can tell we’re getting to the end of the show, because each dude’s segments are getting shorter. Kind of like my patience. Big Daddy’s offer was accepted. Next come inspections. $78,000 is the potential commission. Some guy does a mold inspection. Riveting, riveting stuff. Mmm, the mold inspector’s kind of hunky in a bear-y kind of way. Oh, and everything’s fine. No mold.
Back to Chad. John, a contractor, and Marvin, an inspector come to Cuttino’s house to inspect the water damage. See, this is why I rent. Toilet breaks? Call your landlord. Leaky faucet? Call your landlord. And you don’t have to pay a dime. Dude, the contractor and inspector do not have good news. They might as well have built the house directly on the Pacific Ocean. Water, water everywhere. Heh – the contractor says, “Yeah, it looks like he’s kind of screwed right now.” Holy shit! The contractor tells them that if they don’t, like, rip up the entire first floor, that they’ll lose the kitchen and pretty much everything else on that side of the house. They have to take the house of the market, and Chad loses a $99,875 commission. Oopsie daisies!
Trust Fund goes over to Stinky Pierre’s house. Trust Fund looks really stupid and unprofessional, with some dumbass white headband. And take off your damn glasses when you’re inside! It’s called courtesy! Pierre asks, “Is there any Halloween party I’m not aware of?” And because he’s French and an asshole (six and half dozen, really), he says, “Or gay pride?” Shut up, Frenchy. Trust Fund says the power and water were shut off at his house, so he put on gym clothes. What the hell kind of logic is that? Of the two offers, one is all cash, the other is payment over 3 years directly to Pierre. Trust Fund says that he should take the all cash offer, and Pierre says that he doesn’t usually take advice from people dressed like Trust Fund. He has a point, which is validated further when Trust Fund raises his arm and we see a giant pit stain.
Um, Josh? It doesn’t take any electricity to rub a stick of Teen Spirit under your armpit. Just sayin.
Stinky Pierre mumbles some crap, and Trust Fund says he’ll be listed on the house stuff, but won’t do any of the negotiation. He’ll still get his commission, though. So why is he whining? Oh yeah – because he’s rich and lonely. Oh so lonely. Trust Fund tells Pierre that they should each negotiate separately and then see who comes up with the better offer. Pierre says non, non mon petit douchebag. Pierre says in French, “This idiot thinks he’s going to negotiate the house for me? He thinks he’s smarter than me? He’s so wrong.” Who says the French are arrogant assholes? Also, there were subtitles. I was Co-President of my high school French Club, but I’m not THAT good. I don’t know why Stinky Pierre doesn’t just say au revoir to Trust Fund, but I’m willing to be it’s because he likes to bully people. Man, Reuben is going to need years of therapy. Trust Fund says that he’s glad he gets a commission, but he wants to do his job to “earn” it. Awww, someone learned a new word today, didn’t he! Trust Fund then says that maybe this isn’t the right job for him. Man, this kid is hella depressed in this episode. Ooh! I bet that explains the no shower and the gym clothes. Power and water off, my ass. In all seriousness, I sincerely hope Josh sees a therapist, because he sounds like he could use some help, and someone to talk to.
Oh my god, this show’s not over? Fine. Trust Fund finds out the next morning that negotiations fell through on Stinky Pierre’s house, and he decided to take it off the market. Trust Fund says that maybe if Pierre had used him, then maybe it all would have worked out. So, no commission. Wow – 2 commissions lost in this episode. Some would call that sad. I would call that justice. Trust Fund reads aloud in the paper about how Cuttino’s house is off the market. This makes Trust Fund happy. Apres moi, le deluge!
Chad drives around town. He voiceover that life is good now that Victoria’s back, which makes the loss of his commission almost okay. Oh, excuse me – “okeh.” Cuttino calls and says that the house is ripped up, but as soon as it’s cleaned up, Chad can list it.
Madison sold the house to Big Daddy and Little Richie. Madison seems really stoned in his interviews in the episode. Everyone bullshits about how nice the day is and how nice the house is. Oh, thank god – it’s over!
I just thought this would be worth one more pic.
Next Week on Million Dollar Listing: I have no idea, because apparently Amazon Unbox doesn’t do promos for the next week. Rest assured that people will buy and sell houses. Yeah, that’s not tension you’re feeling. It’s just gas.