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The war continues! This one was rough. Instead of writing VILE over and over again, I wanted to absorb the Jill/B fight without getting so angry. I tried my damnedest to be objective and weigh both sides. THAT lasted about fifteen seconds, Ha! I’ve got a few things to say about that mess and an update on my own issues, but I’ll get to that later. First, Let’s get to the drama of gossip in The Daily News!That venerable New York rag has a column called Gatecrasher. It’s gossip and I never read it. The stories are usually more along the lines of plugging things and buoying the egos of people on the social scene. I prefer my gossip with a side of hilarity a la Michael K, or from a straight talking insider like Lainey.
Miss B is in her apartment with her assistant engaging in her normal morning routine of strapping on the mic, over something she calls ‘carpenter’s back’ and reading the paper. God, I envy her having an assistant. I would LOVE to wake up to someone handling my busy work, I’d get twice as much done.
Anyhoo, the article says that she’s frenemies with Kelly but is fighting with her former bestie Jill. It mentions how she didn’t attend the Saks party (she didn’t miss much) and is splintering off from the group because she wants her own show and doesn’t want to share the spotlight with the others. So, where did this come from? Bethenny says that it has Jill written all over it.
Like I said, the New York columns are mostly about currying favor and planting stories in exchange for access, not unlike say, People magazine. So, long story short, don’t believe everything you read. It is always one sided.
This story that Miss B is reading is no different. I took the liberty of looking this article up and reading it for myself and I have to agree with Bethenny. It looks like a Zarin plant. On the surface it’s innocuous enough. It talks about how she didn’t attend some of the events with the other women and how she’s getting her own show. What was so awful about that?
What’s awful is what was MISSING from the article.
There was no mention of why Miss B wasn’t invited to Saks, and the assertion that she wasn’t friendly with Alex or Ramona is patently false, at least when the article came out. Nor did it address the fact that the fighting wasn’t solely Bethenny’s creation. I’m sure that she would have been much happier to be sent off to do her own show with her friendships intact. The article implied that she severed ties, and that it was her choice. Hmmmm. Who would say that, I wonder? Check it out for yourself. Make up your own mind, but I’m pretty sure that you’ll agree, unless…….
I wouldn’t put it past him. But, no. I don’t think that he needs to create any drama. These girls do just fine all on their own. By the way, did you know that rubber chickens in bathing suits are photobombing the Housewives now?
Or is that Alex in a bikini?
I kid, I kid! You guys know that I like Alex. Even after those awful comments about drinking while pregnant.
I do know several women who drank to help induce labor. I’m talking about a glass of wine, not a bottle of Jack. They all had their doctor’s okay and I even served one of them when I was bartending. No biggie.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but one glass of Champagne isn’t going to damage the baby. Last I checked little Johnny or Frankie didn’t have fetal alcohol syndrome or learning disabilities. Quite the opposite, frankly. Wasn’t Francois practically smarter than the guy who tested him for school that one time? I’ll reserve judgement until I read the actual passage in her book.
We’re not done with the gossip, though. Bethenny says that old Frankenberry himself, Perez Hilton contacted her with more Jill drama. Like what? Press is one thing, like Miss B says, she has to deal with it because she has books and products to promote but a “termite” like Perez? Hell to the no! Good for her.
I am SO on the same page with her when it comes to him. He’s a piece of work and Jill is an ass for telling him anything, and you just know that she did. She can deny it all she wants but I’d lay ten to one odds that she spewed her Bethenny bile all over him when the cameras weren’t around. Trust. I don’t know what logic she uses to justify smearing her former friend, but she probably couldn’t wait to get him in a dark corner and tell him what an ungrateful little upstart she is.
That’s one of the reasons that I’m on Miss B’s side with this fight of theirs. And you know what else? I was wrong. I admit it. Earlier this year, I was not a fan. I thought that she was dumping her friends because of her newfound success, backstabbing Jill after using her when she was single and lonely. Boy, has my tune changed.
Imagine how you would feel if you had a spat with a friend and they ran off to the papers to buzz in some gossip columnist’s ear and paint you in a certain unflattering light. You’d be freaking mad! I sure wouldn’t want to talk to them and I’d feel like they owed me an apology. Well, Bethenny is a bigger person than I am because she tells her assistant that she’s going to call her to arrange a meeting.
Bring the paper. I hear it’s good for swatting flies.
She can’t understand why Jill is so pissed, or she’s doing a damn god job of faking it. Not to mention, why is Jill telling everyone how upset she is except for the object of her distress? Who does that? Oh right. GIRLS IN JUNIOR HIGH. I expect her to treat Miss B like she treated Missy or Jenny in 7th grade when they didn’t do her bidding. She’ll probably freeze her out and then spread more rumors, because that’s what classy know it alls do.
It’s going to get worse, but before then it’s time to see how desired Kelly is, even though she isn’t operating with a full deck. That’s okay. We can all watch her from ‘down here’ with our feet planted firmly on the ground while she floats around ‘up there’ or wherever it is that she thinks that she is with her electrifyingly astounding life.
Most guys looking for a booty call don’t want you for your mind anyway, they want your body, wonky titties and all. And, look! Ramona was right! It looks like she fixed her titties, they’re three inches apart now, not six!
They’re not quite friends yet, more like silicone acquiantances.
God, she’s so brown, she looks like a freaking pork loin. Her skin looks like something Guy Fieri would throw on a Panini or Adam Richman would be turning fire engine red from eating on Man vs. Food. Yes, I watch lots of shows on The Food Network. Too bad we don’t recap THAT. I have the schedule practically memorised.
She’s meeting a guy named Mike to do the interview that is going to accompany her pictorial in Playboy. If their banter is any indication, we’d all be better off reading Hugh Hefner’s latest prostate exam results or Miss April’s dream journal than the tripe they discuss.
He looks like a Williamsburg hipster version of Sam Rockwell and his phrasing is stilted with random words enunciated and long pauses of self importance, like “so……was this the first time…..you posed…………………..nude…..?” It’s Shatner-esque in it’s weirdness.
“So, ………..everyone wants to…..know. Do you fuck…………………*cough*…………..journalists?”
She tells him that he’s the most handsome journalist that she’s ever seen and flirts with him while flipping her hair and making ridiculous comments about how interviewing her is an “organic process” and how they are forging into new and groundbreaking interview territory about how well read she isn’t.
You see, genius boy wants to know what books she’s been cracking lately and when he mentions how wonderful he found ‘The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo’ to be, she deflects by saying that she doesn’t have one. A tattoo, I mean. She has plenty of books, they’re just all geared towards Sea and Teddy, or people that like looking at pictures of bathing suits. She’s practically wrote the book on bikinis, you know.
More stupid phony superlatives follow in interviews, like how “charming and super engaging” he is. She makes this strange shape with her lips like she’s smiling with one of those dental clamps in her mouth that keep it open while you’re getting your teeth bleached, all gummy and ferocious. She needs to dial it down a notch and learn to smize from Tyra. This is more like chomping and smiling.
They step outside and he wants her number so he can ask her out some time. She makes a mental note to pick up some Cliff’s Notes on Swedish authors before then, and tells him that he’s so fabulous that she wants him to do all her interviews from now on.
For what? Is she writing a book on cover-ups? Amazingly super enchanting flip flops?
We all know that it ain’t about sunscreen.
Uh oh. We’re heading to the Hamptons next. I better go pop some Advil before listening to LuLu’s gravelly Newport 100s voice. Is she a closet puffer? She sure sounds like it. Maybe she gargled with Curacao instead of Listerine by mistake again, or is recovering from a long night chatting with cancer patients, My Love.
She’s on the couch with young Victoria who is engaging in one of my favorite hobbies when I was her age, drawing shoes and dresses. Pretty, pretty high heels made out of spider webs and long flowing gowns that she dons in her head before meeting the son of a Greek shipping magnate on his daddy’s yacht in the South of France. Anywhere but the Hamptons, where’s she’s been banished to from her cherished Manhattan.
Maman LuLu admires her drawings and says that she can arrange for her to have an internship, or ‘stage’ with a designer like Catherine Malandrino who is a personal friend of hers. How wonderful. Did Miss Andy introduce them at a Bravo party? Is LuLu dropping her name in exchange for free dresses? Your guess is as good as mine.
‘But how will I get along in the city?’ poor Vicki wants to know. The townhouse is long gone, along with her beloved true mama, Rosie. ‘Hopefully, my darling, we will have an apartment by then. Perhaps a tasteful and sophisticated little pied a terre with a nice cubby hole for you and your scribblings, and a lair for me and my confused youthful victims,’ she says with a wink and a purse of her lips, loving how the French phrases roll off her tongue.
‘He can’t take that from me,’ she says to herself. ‘I’ve still got it, I may not have the same money or prestige the Count afforded me, but I can still wow them with my knowledge of European bath houses and the finest sex clubs in Gstaad. All I need is the proper partner in crime. A young duke perhaps. Hmmmm…..,’ and she lets out a soft sigh, gazing at the toile pattern on the wall, her thoughts far away and very unclean.
As if reading her mind, Victoria inquires whether her mother is entertaining any acceptable suitors these days. ‘No, my love. No one serious. No one appropriÃ©, just rent boys and such, darling.’
‘You know, the usual.’
‘But Poppa’s moved on, so should you, no?’
‘Just no one from my school, maman, I beg of you!’
That was weird. Did I hear right, and did Victoria ask her to not only date someone her own age, but to stay away from blondes? What’s wrong with yellow hairs? I’m insulted! Are they trying to imply that there is something awry with the fairer folk of the world? Well, I never! Excuse me while I write a strongly worded letter to the producers. Harumph!
I’m blonde and damn proud of it. This is simply unacceptable, it just isn’t done, I tell you!
You see how ridiculous that is? Now replace blonde with whatever LuLu or Jill pretend to be annoyed by so that they can ignore being reprimanded for their behaviour. I’m actually secretly relieved to hear that she won’t be wooing any blondes. My baby brother is safe. Pheeeeeew.
I’ve got a brunette nephew, though. I better have my sister lock him up until it’s safe. He needs a nice teenage girlfriend, someone like Ally perhaps. Speaking of Miss Shapiro-Zarin, she is with her fabulously upholstered and Loueeebootawn shoe-d mother en route to a photo shoot for Seventeen magazine. It seems that Ally befriended some editors and now she’s going to model for them.
She’s really pretty with gorgeous bone structure and strikingly pale pool colored eyes. She’s a little heavy, but who knows, you might be too if you were five foot nothing and had arthritis. The weight is nothing major and she carries it well with good posture and a wide smile.
She’s going to appear in the magazine in a feature on Prom dresses for your body type, which is mag speak for hiding figure flaws, be it wider hips or a tiny bust. Kelly shows up in her ubiquitous fur vest, flipping that hair that she lets fall into her face like a fringe security blanket and lending her support.
The gals that work at Seventeen know Kelly and that is exactly why Jill invited her. She loves to let people know who she knows. Starfucking, Zarin style. She admits it, she says as much in interviews. She’s so proud to call Leather a friend today, as opposed to last year when Bethenny was her buddy and she barely gave her the time of day. Whatever, this isn’t about her, it’s about Ally.
The dress they give Ally looks great on her and she seems completely comfortable in front of the cameras. Having a Bravo crew follow you around probably prepared her for this, along with all those morning shows she did with her mom, promoting whatever Shill wanted to sell at that moment.
Look, Kelly. Isn’t she gorgeous, adorable arthritis notwithstanding?
Comfortable or not, freaking Jill has to micromanage her daughter by asking if she ‘can feel it’ and telling her to ‘shake it, baby.’ She’s embarrassing Ally and I do not agree with Kelly that all that distraction helped her to relax. If anything, it seemed to piss her off. Jill says, “I might be annoying but I’ll get you the money shot.” What is she going to, draw cum drips on her own daughter’s photographs?
Girl, you’ve been hanging out with Perez too much.
And let’s face it, even if it was only once, it was still too much. I’d rather have Harvey Levin on a continuous loop than peek at a single one of his pages. I think the last time I went there was during the great Britney meltdown of 2006. Does he still put in charity posts here and there to make himself feel better about tearing people down? Cunt. Let’s boycott.
Back at the photo shoot, Kelly is telling Jill about her charmingly astonishing and spectacular interview with the dude that likes gifted dead Swedish authors. She interjects more meaningless superlatives and says he’s ‘so smart,’ over and over.
Jill absolutely loves smart guys, didja know? She only surrounds herself with the best of the best of the best mostest fabulousity. She also thinks that money’s round so if there’s trouble you can find a way out of it.
I’m sorry, what? Where did that come from? I don’t remember Suze Orman saying that, or anyone else on CNBC. I have a total crush on David Faber though (don’t laugh. he looks like Freddy Couples to me), and I’m pretty sure the only money he thinks is round are the coins in his pocket.
“You see, Kelly, my head is round like money. Unfortunately, there’s no way out of it.”
Jill has to know all the deets, but Leather doesn’t really have any. She only knows that he writes interviews for naughty men’s magazines and is 37 & single. Why is such a marvelous incredible mind blowing journalist still single, Jill wants to know? There must be something wrong with him.
Please, he’s single because he can be. What is the ratio of straight men to straight women in New York, eight to one? Why wouldn’t he be a modelizer? He can settle down when he’s fifty, it’s one of the joys of being a guy on the loose in Manhattan. I’d do the same if I were him, only I’d have the good sense to pick someone that wasn’t going to batter me.
Kelly says that she wonders if she’ll ever find the right guy. Oh no. Shades of Bethenny and her man hunt from the past two seasons are coming out in Leather. I’m not too worried. She has kids already and her own place in the Hamptons. She doesn’t need Jill for anything. That doesn’t matter, the old yenta still puts her two cents in, telling her to stay away from pretty boys and then interviewing that Kelly’s too picky.
What I want to know is- if Leather is so fucking out of this world Amazing, why isn’t she dating George Clooney or something? Why is she bruising men half her age and getting community service for it? Maybe she isn’t picky enough.
Don’t care, she’s super duper unbelievably incredibly boring anyway. I’d rather hang out with Alex and her Day Gay Derek, which is where we are headed now. They are meeting with some of the girls to choose a final closing designer for Brooklyn Fashion Week……end. That’s right, Alex is on the board of Brookly Fashion Weekend, not Week. Derek says it’s about letting Brooklyn be Brooklyn, not imitating Manhattan. That’s no lie because most of the clothes we are about to see make everything we saw in the previous episodes look like freaking couture.
I’m not bashing the borough, heck I lived there for a couple years in the late 80s. Loved it, I had so much more space, even a quiet yard for reading on balmy Sundays. I’m just surprised that the quality of clothing deteriorates so rapidly just by crossing the East River. Gain some extra square footage, lose the equivelant in creativity, I suppose.
Bethenny arrives, followed by Kelly and Ramona. No Shill or LuLu, ha! Alex is still pissed at them for their remarks about her children and thought that Bethenny would do a better job picking a designer than either of those shit stirring bitches anyway.
Ramona makes a stupid remark about Derek’s bracelets. He’s GAY, you ditsy dumbo, not trying to be a woman. Is Crazy Eyes homophobic? She’s Catholic, she shouldn’t be. Chances are that they guy who puts the wafer in her mouth on Sunday likes boys, not girls, or maybe he got a load of gals like Ramona and decided to be celibate.
The theme this year is Manhattan Comes To Brooklyn. Just like Ramona, says Miss B. I almost forgot about that. Didn’t Ramona skip Silex’s big decorating reveal because she doesn’t go to Brooklyn, it’s beneath her or something? That’s very interesting in light of what comes out later.
Bethenny asks the group about their night at Saks and Kelly speaks up as Alex and Ramona’s faces fall. It’s an immediate downer and then Kelly says that Crazy Eyes was extra super unbeleivably mean to her but now she’s acting like she loves her. Miss B wants to know whay she would have a problem with anything Ramona says, she’s a lunatic for crying out loud! Nobody takes it seriously.
The boobie comments come up and Kelly gets defensive immediately. I LOVE what Miss B says next. She says that Ramona needs to take more responsibility for the crap she lets fly out of her mouth. “Diarrhea of the Mouth isn’t a real ailment.” Hahahaha! Until she shows up with a real diagnosis from a real doctor, she needs to stop using that excuse.
Yeah, but I love the crazy. I don’t really want her to change. She tells Leather that she didn’t mean to offend her and then Bethenny brings up the article in The Daily News.
Uh oh. I’d close my eyes too if I were you.
I think that she apologises to the ladies for having to deal with the fight between her and Jill, as an effort to head off any drama. Sadly, it doesn’t work. Alex asks her point blank if she planted the article and Miss B repeats that she thinks it was Jill. Ramona interjects that they shouldn’t start trashing anyone who isn’t there, not when it’s so much more fun to embarrass them to their faces, and then all Hell breaks loose.
Ramona is back on her fence defending Jill by saying that no way, Jill wouldn’t stoop so low as to plant an article in The daily News like that. Huh? Where has she been? I seem to remember Jill being completely unapologetic about running off to Cindy Adams about what a lush Simon was last season. Jill gets mad and she lashes out. Ramona knows that!
The Jaw tells her that they can discuss whatever they want, not just what concerns Ramona and then the nasty Diarrhea of the Mouth kicks in and Crazy Eyes calls her a press monger.
Whoa, sister. And Jill ISN’T?!?
Kelly decides that she can’t take it anymore and simply must trash Bethenny as well. So much for the truce they declared at the Verdi Lounge. More of the ‘up here, down there’ talk and I am so over it, as is poor Alex. We get it, Kelly. Miss B called you Madonna which automatically made her a gutter sniper, hence the ‘down there’ comment. Enough.
They bicker back and forth, I can’t understand half of it and Leather is full-on in Kelly’s World raving about how she needs to “make it clear.” Sheesh, take a freaking breath!
Ramona screams, literally SCREAMS that she left work- for this? And then Alex finally gets them calmed down long enough to tell them to shut it or take it outside. She is halla pissed but that woman is nothing if not controlled and she’s there to talk hideous fashion, not listen to the petty bickering of two polar opposites.
Like a martini soaked fashionable angel from heaven, Simon arrives and Ramona practically blows him with delight. Bethenny is really out of the loop if she doesn’t realise that they get along now. She says that she didn’t get the memo that they were buds, nor did she get the one where Alex was being nice by inviting her, so please refrain from trashing the idea of Brooklyn fashion. Baby steps, people. We all know that you prefer Manhattan, Ms. Hoppy. Who doesn’t? At least let the idea get off the ground.
A designer walks up and Kelly does the weirdest phoniest hair flippin’ hello I have ever seen in my life. Did she run to the powder room for an extra bump before they got started? Like I said before
Dial it down a notch, Smomper.
The clothes are awful. They look like they were pulled from an old 80s remnant bin at the Body Glove factory, or the most outrageous Barbie aerobics gear blown up to life size. Before I even knew what I was doing, I realised that I had literally recoiled in horror. It’s so bad that I wouldn’t be surprised if destitute Haitian refugees refused to wear it.
I’ll stick with my palm frond sarong, thank you very much.
The next designer’s collection is a mind boggling jumble of neon and tribal patterns and what’s that I see? My brother’s old Lone Ranger holster around her neck? Wait, I know. She based the tank top on the backdrop in a real fish tank filled with coral! It’s a tank tank! Simply amazing, and what do you do when you can’t decide which you like more- the Dallas Stars hockey team or the Oakland A’s.
Why, you make a knit baseball hat/toque with a pompom in back!
I think I just blacked out for a second. That was so bad. I think I’m shell shocked, as is Bethenny. She says that she wouldn’t wear any of it and she wouldn’t let her dog either. I second that, and I’m pretty pissed at my dogs right now for keeping me up half the night.
Ramona tries to school one of the designers on the difference between satin and silk satin and the rules of couture. Then she acts all coy about the difference between fashion on her home planet of Squerboogeedurblax and these poor ignorant souls in Brooklyn.
I was starting to get nervous for Alex’s chances of finding anything for the show finale when a decent designer finally walks up. His stuff is nothing special but that fact makes it head and shoulders above the crap we had to look at before it. Ramona wants the long yellow tiered dress for Palm Beach and she wants the zippered black dress now. She leaves with Alex to try stuff on, leaving Bethenny and Leather to finish their chat.
Kelly tells Miss B that she hurt her feelings and they agree to wipe the slate clean again. This time when they say that they aren’t going to bring it up anymore, I hope they mean it. It’s a tired subject and I hope that I never have to witness them going on about it in the future, just like I wish that Miss Andy would have spared me Ramona’s unzippered blurry cooch.
I \ I / I
I know, infantile.
Kelly takes credit for their truce, Alex raises her Champagne glass in thanks for all their help and we move on to the next order of business, Ramona’s lunch with her two-faced friend Joni.
This is the same chick that told Jill that Crazy Eyes ordered a separate check when they went out to lunch, calling her cheap without actally having to say it. Unfortunately, Ramona doesn’t ask for one this time so we’ll have to settle for some chit chat about how stunning and renewed Ramona looks.
Joni- not so much.
Girl needs a makeover. She looks like Crystal Gayle crossed with Morticia Addams after a long night at Studio 54. I get a weirdo vibe from her too, like those gals you sometimes meet that try too hard and make you uncomfortable because they don’t seem genuine. She’s the girl on the Flag Team who would die to be a cheerleader and kisses their asses every chance she gets. Ramona is her Varsity Captain.
They’ve been friends for 16 years. That’s a long time, and during that era they saw half of their friends get divorced. Ramona wants to continue her quest for renewal by remarrying her serial killer husband. What is sparking this need for new beginnings? The death of her father.
She tells Joni that she grew up in a war zone. Her Dad was verbally and physically abusive to her mother, and sometimes they had to hide away at her Grandmothers in Brooklyn for weeks at a time to get away from him.
Did you guys get the same ‘ding, dig, ding!’ moment as I did when she said that? Is this one of the sources for her hatred of that borough, her insisting on never going there? How strange.
You think you know a lunatic….
I feel horrible for her. That had to be a nightmare. I know what it’s like to have a father with a temper. To this day if I hear a raised voice, my adrenaline kicks up a few notches and I clam up or go a little nuts, depending on the stuation. Daddy issues are nothing new to me but hers are way more tragic. She wouldn’t even visit her Mom much while she was alive because she hated her Daddy so much.
Well, Mario talked her into inviting him for Christmas in 2008 and Ramona got to see him in a better light before he died two weeks later. She says that she got to make her peace with him and finally got some of the love that she missed out on as a child, and then she starts to get teary.
Shit, Ramona! Don’t make me cry. Ugh.
The good news is that his death freed her from her supressed anger and subsequent depression. Now she can talk about it without shame and stop pretending that she grew up in a perfect family with a white picket fence. She says that life doesn’t stop just because you get older and that you can have a new beginning at any time. So, congrats go out to you, Ramona. I can’t wait for your goofy renewed nuptuals,
I’ll even wear my favorite tin hat!
Guess who else has an assistant? Freaking Leather. She’s spewing more inappropriate superlatives about her stupifyingly flabbergasting meeting of the minds with the impossibly attractive Playboy writer, only now she has decided not to go out with him because she doesn’t like to mix business and pleasure.
I wouldn’t have dated the guy either, even if he looked like Taylor Kitsch instead of Sam Rockwell. You know why? Because he writes for Playboy. He probably porks ‘em and leaves ‘em. Who wants to be the girl that this guy can point out to his friends in half naked pictures as he says, “Yeah, I banged her.” Not me.
That’s not Kelly’s reasoning, though. Her excuse is that she only dates MAJOR people like her ex-husband Gilles. That writer Mike, that super smart and stunningly fascinating guy just wasn’t good enough for her. Twat.
I got news for you, honey.
You ain’t 20 no more and that alpaca blouse isn’t helping hide your resemblance to animal hide either.
In the midst of this bullshit, she gets an email from Jill. Wanna read it?
Well, that wasn’t passive aggressive. Nope, not at all.
Seriously, Jill. GET A FUCKING HOBBY.
Who does she think she is? She wants to control everything everyone around her does, down to the friends they pick? Does she want to blackball Bethenny to all of Manhattan? It sure looks like it!
Kelly may resemble one of her own old Hermes Kelly Bags, but she’s not entirely clueless. She calls the email a threat, and says that she isn’t going to take it lightly, nor does she want to be stuck in the middle of a fight that has nothing to do with her. She’s right, it’s an odd thing for Jill to do and she needs to talk to her about it.
When? I don’t know. All I do know is that it isn’t this episode. There’s only room for one confrontation with Jill and this week is Miss B’s reservation.
I’m going to lightly touch on what a control freak Ramona is during this week’s vignette and then I’ll tell you what I think of Jill’s inappropriate phone behaviour with Bethenny.
Crazy Eyes and Mario are showing their True Faith jewelry line to some interested parties and she keeps interrupting him to correct his presentation. Woman, please!
Just do it your damn self next time, K?
Good Lord. No wonder Mario has that growing pile of body bags in the basement on Long Island. The woman can’t relinquish control for a second, not even to her own husband.
Somebody else acts like that from time to time, along with a tendency to blow things out of proportion. That’s right- Shill. LuLu is staying at her apartment so that she can save a few bucks on hotel rooms and use the moolah to buy her best buddy a giant wine glass that says ‘Go big or go home.’
KLASS, people. KLASS, by the Cuntress.
It’s one of Jill’s personal favorite fabulous sayings. Don’t you dare steal it from her unless you want to recieve a nasty email or be told that she’s going to land on your head, which is what she says she’s going to do to Ally for leaving one of those splendiferous living room pillows askew.
Just don’t whack her on your ravishingly gorgeous davenport, Jill. I’d hate for you to have to replace it. It’s beauty suits you.
I keep expecting the sofa to join the revolt and throw her off at any minute. It’s gotta suck to be dressed in upholstery that would probably be rejected by most of the discerning grannies in Queens. I mean, who wears grey velvet? Depressed debutantes on gloomy Scottish Highlands?
It’s time for Miss B’s phone call to Jill and she steps out of her car in a cute red coat and dials her. It sounded like Bethenny just wanted to call to arrange a sit down meeting, not fight, but how could she not when Jill insists on putting her on speaker phone without telling her who is in the room with her.
Seriously, how is that not a complete breach of etiquette? What a raving cunt! She says that she didn’t lie by not telling her that LuLu was listening in because Bethenny didn’t ask her specifically. You lied by omission, bitch. Why else would you tell her that your assistant was there and not tell her about deLuLusional? Oh right, it’s the same shit you pulled with Ramona. I thought you said that you regretted it. Was it only because LuLu was embarrassed by her accusations? I see, you only admit to regret when it’s convenient for you.
And aren’t you loving her tone? She’s acting like she assumes that we’re all on her side and she can get away with these dirty little underhanded moves because we’re all united against the terrible, Terrible Bethenny. Think again, mean girl.
Jill tries to act nonchalant by saying that she doesn’t know why Miss B is calling her since there’s nothing left to say. Um, when have you ever told her anything? Bethenny tells her that she has blown this entire misunderstanding up so hugely that it’s completely disproportionate to what the argument was in the first place.
The nasty bitch smiles and says, “What does that mean,” and then mouths to LuLu that she knows exactly what disproportionate means.
Wow, vile isn’t a strong enough word this week, Gasmii. We need a new one. How about that anagram I alluded to last week?
How about EVIL?
Bethenny knows that she’s being toyed with, and she tells Jill that she wants to know why she spoke to everyone in Manhattan about their rift while Miss B never told a soul. Now it’s an enormous mess of Jill’s own design. It doesn’t even resemble anything that Bethenny can put her finger on.
Jill says that it isn’t important why it’s enormous, to which Bethenny replies, “Well, that speaks volumes.” It sure does.
Here’s the thing that makes me so angry even though I tried not to be. Never, not once, not for a nanosecond did Jill try to understand where Bethenny was coming from. She’s not even pretending to care that somebody else might have a damn good reason why they couldn’t drop everything and rush to her side when she wanted them to.
She expects Bethenny to bow and scrape and understand every single feeling or desire of hers implicitly, without ever giving her an ounce of the same courtesy! If she would have answered the damn email Bethenny sent to find out how Bawby was doing when he was sick, some of this could have been avoided.
This is why I do not believe that the big issue is the fact that Bethenny didn’t visit Bawby in the hospital. Put aside the stuff that Bethenny says about reading that Jill was partying and blogging about how fabulous her summer was, never once mentioning his illness while claiming to Bethenny that she was playing nursemaid to him. Put aside the fact that Jill thinks it’s okay to text a thank you for the flowers B sent, but it’s completely wrong for Bethenny to use email to check up on Bawby.
Put aside the fact that Bethenny was supposed to know how sick Bawby was when she never heard back from Jill. What’s the problem, isn’t Bethenny psychic like that chick Jill had at her house the other week? No? Tough shit. In Jill’s world, she should have known.
If Jill really needed her at that time, she would have asked for her! When does she ever not ask for what she wants? NEVER. The truth of the matter is that Bethenny outgrew her, and the more independent the soon-to-be Mrs. Hoppy became, the more pissed off Jill got. Bawby’s illness is Ms. Zarin’s scapegoat. Who would have the nerve to go up against cancer? Jill wins, right? That’s what she thinks, and that is just EVIL.
What a lovely conversation! Jill likes to control when things begin and when things end. Remember how we only heard a small part of the message that Bethenny left her, how Jill cut it off just as Bethenny was explaining the hobby remark? Same thing here. As soon as Bethenny brought up the fact that she was writing her third book while Jill was partying in Europe, Jill hangs up.
She gets up off the sofa, leaving LuLu there laughing uncomfortably and making a lame comment of support by saying that Bethenny hits below the belt. Jill says that she’s dripping sweat from all the anxiety and so is LuLu.
The truth hurts, bitches.
Poor Bethenny is crying downtown. She thought that their relationship was salvageable, that they could hash it out and move on, probably not as close as before but still friends. Wrong.
If she ever had any doubts as to what a self centered piece of work Jill Zarin is, all she has to do is rewatch this episode. Jill even has the nerve to complain to LuLu that Bethenny never once asked how Bawby was doing while they were on the phone.
Um, why would she? You’ve been trashing her all over town. The email that Kelly got pretty much proves it. Not to mention the fact that she was probably blindsided by you screaming at her for every crumb of food you gave her that she didn’t thank you for. I mean, wow.
I think I get it now. All that nice stuff that Jill did for Bethenny when she was down and out? It wasn’t just out of the kindness of her heart. There was a price tag on it, and Jill got pissed when she wasn’t paid back in the proper boot lickings and soul sucking attention she craves. You want to be appreciated, Jill? How about you listen to people, really listen, and be happy for others when they make it big off the blood, sweat and tears of hard work instead of envying their every success because the only good thing YOU ever produced was Ally.
You should be crying tears of joy for Bethenny and whooping it up over shared photos from her wedding instead of getting pleasure from upsetting her and painting her into an impossible corner with your guilting and lies.
Oh, and this is me being nice.
You know what, Jill? We’re done. And I used to like you. I can’t even remember what that was like. How sad.
Can’t wait for the next installment. Ramona is in rare form, telling Bethenny that she has no friends and then trying to get her to make up with Jill by ambushing the two of them at her house. Didn’t Jill already try that with Miss B and Kelly? We all know how that turned out, just swimmingly.
And for all of you, I want to say thanks. Whatever kind thoughts or prayers you sent up worked, because Mr. McSlore’s grandfather woke up and is making progress. My mother-in-law went back out to St. Louis to see him and we have the five dogs again. They keep me up all night and then sleep all day, taking turns farting. They make more noise than the lady that gives music lessons across the street and the kids on vacation combined. Just look at them.
Now you know why the ozone’s so thin over Cleveland.
Love and Kisses,