On this week’s episode of “The Hills,” BLAHDRINA IS A DEPLORABLE DUMBASS. Which we already knew, but it became more unbearably evident than ever before. Plus, she goes through the whole episode looking like that chick Alotta Fagina from “Austin Powers,” with or without the buoyancy of water.
Less awful and more fuckable than Blahdrina.
LC leads us in with a recap that ends, “Blahdrina was beginning to wonder if ANYONE could replace Pigpen.” Um, how about that bum walking along the train tracks carrying only a satchel tied around a stick? Anyway, Blahdrina enters LC’s room and compliments her on her use of pictures. Indeed, LC has used her design education to become a fashionista of the body AND of walls. “Yah! We did that for fun,” LC smiles, which makes me relieved that no one required her by law to decorate. She’s quick to note, however, that they purposefully used silly photos so as not to seem too posed. I think Heidi and Spencer could take a tip on that one.
This one hangs on their fridge.
So on the boards last week there was some confusion as to the true identity of the throwaway fella Blahdrina was dating – could he be the same as the Australian we met last year at the Halloween party? It was decided amongst the commenters that no, that dude was Corey. Well what do you know? Not thirty seconds into this week’s episode and Blahdrina randomly says, “Hey, remember that guy Corey?” It seems Blahdrina’s been making time with him lately, which pleases Madame LC to no end. “He was a good guy,” she whimpers, neatly hanging clothes in her closet.
Blahdrina’s quick to note that she hasn’t told Pigpen about it yet, and that he’s getting fussy over the fact that she hasn’t called him back. LC (dressed in a shirt that is… dare I say it… Bedazzled?) approves. Blahdrina muses on the ethics of a relationship with someone you’re just fucking. LC can sympathize, alluding to a past lover who she thought she didn’t care that much about until he started banging someone else. Hmmmm. Which one of her previous beaus could she be talking about?
Blahdrina sighs and stares at some dots on the ceiling. “He’s a weird one. I don’t get him.” There’s nothing to get. HE’S A JERK. HE DOESN’T ACTUALLY LIKE YOU. They based a whole “Sex and the City” episode after this. “But that’s why you like him!” LC chirps condescendingly after rolling her eyes, concluding that the normal ones are “no fun.” Hmmm. Good advice from one who’d know?
“Mental note: CALL HEIDI’S MAKEUP GIRL.”
At the Karma Coffeehouse, the Central Perk of “The Hills,” site of many a Pratt argument and boba-choking extravaganza, Stephanie emerges from her car looking not a little like Courtney Love circa “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”
Totally killed Kurt.
As usual, Spencer doesn’t look up from his uber-important MySpace updating when his sister sits down beside him and asks what’s up. He sighs that things are insane, and that he doesn’t know who he dislikes more: Heidi’s sister or her mom. I’ll bet on c) Heidi’s last shred of independent thought. Spencer does an adorable imitation of Heidi’s perfectly reasonable mother, ending with, “I’m like, Settle down, stalker mom!” Which is actually pretty funny considering Debbie or Dina or whatever Mrs. Montag is called was probably TOTALLY a soccer mom. Conversely, he classifies Holly as “mooch of the century” based on the fact that he has to “work” in a coffee shop because she’s watching all his TiVO.
“Now now, don’t get jealous of her mooching skills.”
He concludes that he can’t imagine disliking a sister more, which is supposed to bolster Stephanie’s broken spirit. “That’s a demented compliment, but thanks,” she says. I would actually classify that as a straight-up double-edged insult, actually. In no way is that nice to anybody, backhandedly or otherwise.
Spencer mentions Heidi’s love letter to Lauren with chagrin, complaining that she went and sent that damn letter without letting him even spell-check it! Seriously guys, this is what he said. Personally, I’d hope Heidi would at least let him be her human thesaurus, but not everyone’s so lucky. He’s hurt that this is the first secret she’s ever kept from him. Well, at least it’s the first he’s ever found out about. I’m sure she’s got a few skeletons in that vast Vuitton-filled closet of hers, beginning with all the orgasms she’s surely faked, and ending with…
Her cabana boy Pedro?
But who knows? Perhaps the only skeleton in their home is Heidi herself. You know, I never realized how repulsively thin she is until I saw this hideous publicity photo of her raising awareness for world hunger (ha!):
“Don’t swallow don’t swallow don’t swallow don’t swallow”
But I digress. Spencer employs a typical military/navy/war analogy by comparing the Mont-Hags descending upon his home to the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Well, that’s cute. I’m sure everybody’s 85-year-old grandpa would love to hear that. As endearing as that analogy is, I’m pretty sure Japan wasn’t trying to rescue Hawaii from the evil clutches of a manipulative United States.
“OH MY GOD MY ARM!!!”
At PR, the golden girls are discussing weekend plans (wait, wasn’t Whitney supposed to stop having a life, like, four episodes ago?) and LC reveals her intent to soak up the sun in Malibu. She invites Whit to a pool party (because we all know how well the last one went) and says that Blahdrina will be there with….
“Carlos? Christopher? Which dick is she dating this week again?”
Corey! That is his name. The Blahstralian. “Ohhhh she’s seeing Corey again?” Whit asks with obvious disapproval (her usual wince + wrinkled nose) while LC nods with enthusiasm, not picking up on the possibility that this might not be a good path for our already wayward gal. “Yah, she WAS going out with Pigpen but then she went out with Colin and NOW she’s with Corey but I’m pretty sure she still wants to be banging Pigpen and WOW her vag must be exhausted!” she does not say.
“Who effing cares.”
She invites Whitney to be her date, and we all breathe a sigh of relief that FINALLY the douches of Los Angeles have turned her lesbian. It’s about time! But… not so fast. Lauren keeps going on about how much she likes Corey. “More than Pigpen?” Whit asks with veiled surprise. LC merely purses her lips tightly and nods. Wink wink, say n’more! Lauren continues on about how grateful Blahdrina is about simple things like returning her phone calls and at least attempting to keep his penis out of other women. It’s normal!, That should be expected, they agree. “That’s what she needs, but I don’t know if that’s what she wants,” LC tsk-tsks. Well sure, not when her best friend is telling her that “normal is no fun.”
Out at dinner, Blahdrina is chatting with her so-called gentleman Corey, who is pretty cute, although I can never forgive the use of an adjustable netted hat.
That style should be reserved for Little Leaguers and Fresh Prince wigga fans circa 1993.
As instructed before they began shooting, he gets right down to the point and asks who she’s been dating. If I wasn’t so positive that he’d been briefed before the cameras began rolling, I’d think he was being possessive. Now, I don’t know about other classy ladies out there, but if I were asked the same question by a guy I claimed to be interested in, I would say, “Nobody special” or “A coupla people here and there” or perhaps “Just my vibrator! *wink* “. However, I don’t think of Blahdrina as a classy lady or even someone capable of any measure of subtlety, so she just sighs, “Well, just Pigpen,” as though he should already know who that is (I guess they do get MTV in Blahstralia though). She tries to make it seem like they’re “just friends,” but I think Corey’s already calling bullshit on that one. “That’s cool,” he says, staring at the tablecloth, then the usual 7 seconds of awkward silence passes while Blahdrina’s mind temporarily fills with visions of bubbles and rainbows.
“Ummmm… still with me, Champ?”
He says he’s been single for a year after 5 years of being with some filly, so now he’s “stress-free, just cruisin’” which Blahdrina claims to understand, although I have my doubts as she stares into the distance.
I think Pigpen must be waving from just outside the window.
Blahstralia suggests they go home and make it already so they rise from the table to leave. And that’s when I wonder if there’s a surprise birthday party about to happen at the restaurant, because Blahdrina is hiding some serious tan balloons under her shirt.
Send In The Clowns.
Jesus, woman! The next morning, the four of them (Blahstralia, Blahdrina and Blahdrina’s funbags) head from the sequestered Blahteau into the main house for breakfast, where Lauren happens to come downstairs at the same time. This is the only time I think it’s okay that LC has foregone her makeup routine, because obviously it’s supposed to be first thing in the morning. Blahdrina’s eyeliner, however, is creeping me out and making me wonder if she’s gotten it tattooed on.
They all exchange pleasantries as LC raises her eyebrows toward Blah a little bit, all like, “Hayyyyy, you got laid! And not by a total dickhead!” They mention an upcoming trip to Cabo, the only acceptable beach getaway for adolescents, both before and after high school graduation. Blahdrina invites Corey along. In response, he pushes his chin into his chest and mumbles, “Ummmmmm… sure….” Oh this will end well. Also adding to the list of omens that Corey will not last long on this show…
HE’S ACTUALLY CUTE. Tough break, kid.
But Blahdrina doesn’t notice, as she’s too busy bragging about how last time they went they needed two weeks to recover. I’m betting her liver is STILL kicking her. Moment of awkward silence. “Sounds like a bit of a big deal,” Corey says trepidatiously, and we all see this relationship tumbling like Wile E. Coyote down a canyon. Blahdrina responds by furrowing her eyebrows skyward and nodding meekly. You twit.
At the crowded blonde inn, Holls does some job-searching by watching E! Television and jotting down notes about Joe Francis while, in the bedroom, Spencer & Heidi are supernaturally well-lit and argue as though in the most vapid Coppola movie ever made.
“Listen to me, I’m perfectly coiffed.”
“YOU? Have you seen this lion’s mane? And anyway, I’VE got tits.”
But clearly, I am on the good side, as light/dark symbolism has taught us.”
“But I’m GLOWING.”
“POUT. I win.”
Now, now. They actually fight over Holly, but there are only so many repeats of this pair’s fights that I can take, and I’m not about to subject you to it. If you wanted that kind of bullshit, you could just tune in. In the end, Spencer actually takes the leap and gives Heidi an ultimatum of either him or her sister moving out. And since we know Heidi’s a brainwashed robot, we can all foresee what she will choose.
In the gorgeous Eden that is Malibu, LC and Whit have arrived to the pool party, Whit dressed like a 20-year-old version of prissy bitch Lisa Love and LC dressed like Mary Kate Olsen as Sherlock Holmes.
“No, don’t look at me! Okay, look at me.”
They plant themselves on a lounger and gossip about Blahdrina, who’s chillin’ in the pool with her fling du jour. LC goes on and on AND ON about how amazing Corey is, using such exalting adjectives like “good” and “nice” and “not too nice-guy” and admiring the couple for being “maybe the cutest thing evar” and “SO. HAPPY.” I’m beginning to seriously wonder whether LC just wants to date Corey herself.
“I seem to have lost my face. Have you seen it anywhere?”
Frankie and The Boys (they’re the newest pop sensation, just ask your 12-year-old cousin) roll up beside the duo and Frankie mentions his horror at Blahdrina’s date, as he has just spoken with Pigpen and invited him over. “Do you understand? Like, HE’S OUR BOY. We hang out with him like every day.” Where did this come from? Since when is Pigpen a Homeboy?
Frankie Delgado, Ex Collector.
I’m beginning to have my suspicions about Frankie – he just seems to pick up all of the drifters along LauBlah Boulevard. “I think Corey’s cool,” Frankie says. “COREY’S AWESOME.” LC snaps, unwilling to look at Frankie. Lauren tries to make him call Pigpen to cancel his invitation, but Frankie, drunk as we always see him, kind of just fucks it up. I am shocked.
Meanwhile, Blahdrina and the Blahstralian discuss matters of existentialism.
The Boys reveal that they’ve invited Pigpen to Cabo, so what the hell is Blahdrina gonna do?? Frankie insists that he will get answers! and marches over to Funbags Partridge herself to ask who she’s bringing to the weeklong Mexican fiesta. “I’m going by myself,” she mutters unconvincingly. Frankie slurs about the awkward position she’s put him in, but for once the girl finds some balls and swears that she’s told Pigpen to stop dicking around with her and either be with her or don’t. She even uses some sassy gestures.
“PSSST… COREY…. Call me when she ditches your cute ass!”
I just doubt that she used that kind of force in dealing with the douche himself. Some other day in the future, Lauren and Blahdrina traverse the California wilderness while walking a dog. A rather large dog. OMG is that Chloe???? My how you’ve grown! Man, how long has this season been, anyway?
Wrong, MTV. This is Chloe.
Blahdrina complains about the difficulty of choosing who to take to Cabo. It’s actually a pretty easy decision, considering one’s already going without your personal invitation. Blahdrina whines about how hard it is to juggle two men at the same time. Hey, buck up. Jenna Jameson never complained.
“Ouchie. These new bug eyes are making my brain hurt.”
LC adds her valueless two cents about how she thinks Blahdrina’s relationship with Pigpen is going nowhere. In response, Blah stares into nothingness and lets the advice fall out of her empty headspace.
At dusk, Holls has retreated out to the balcony for some fresh air and looks like she might break out into a Shakespearean soliloquy at any moment. By the way, can I get a “hell yeah” for spelling soliloquy right on my first try? Fuck you, spell check!
“Wherefore art thou a douchebag?”
Heidi joins her outside and hesitatingly requests a heart-to-heart. After a VERY LONG pause, Heidi informs her sister that they should figure out another place for Holls to live. Holly asks why as though it’s a completely unreasonable request, and therefore her place in the O.Snapp polls weakens a bit. Heidi reasons that Holly’s stay was only supposed to be for a week, and since she’s at work all the time she can’t monitor her progress like Spencer can, and how dare she delete “24″ from the DVR anyway? The tension mounts and Heidi responds to this icky feeling by, of course, turning the blame onto her sister instead of her jerkface by accusing her of forcing Heidi to sacrifice her life and her relationship so Holls can sleep on their couch and eat their Cheetos.
It’s hard to despise such an angel. And yet, I somehow manage.
Maybe I have a dirty mind (okay, I KNOW I do) but sometimes I can’t help but think the MTV cameramen and editors slip in a little kooky symbolism sometimes. You know, like in Disney movies. For example, tonight, in light of Blahdrina’s recent love life, this shot that leads us into the final scene of the night.
The Scorsese Squirt Trifecta.
Blahdrina and Pigpen retreat to the pool with leather jackets and wine. Pigpen offers Blahdrina a lot of wine and I make a mental note that if I ever decide to go sober, I should do it on Pigpen’s terms.
“Yo, this Chardonnay is so H-core.”
He tells her that she should get into the pool and he’ll watch. Certainly, we wouldn’t want him to accidentally wash off a layer of that hard-earned filth he’s acquired. He clenches and unclenches his jaw as he watches her take off her sarong. I gag a little as this all plays out over sappy pop music, as though she’s revealing her soul to him via Brazilian wax.
Ever the charmer, he pushes her into the pool like a drunk dad on the Fourth Of July. She whines at him to get in and he replies that if she takes off her top he might. SIGH GAG EW. Of course, she does it.
“Yea, another chance to strip! I could do this for a living!”
He lives up to his end of the “bargain” by stripping down and hopping in, surprised at how cold it is. I’m guessing there’s a lot of shrinkage going on. Blahdrina chooses this moment as the one to discuss the upcoming Cabo trip. O.Snapp rule #4,519: Never ask a man to make tough decisions when he’s shriveled to the size of a cocktail weenie.
“Here ya go, my last shred of self-respect!”
He tells her he must warn her, though. “I’m gonna… get in trouble,” he stutters. “Doing what?” Blahdrina asks, her face resembling worried. He responds by cackling with the wheeze of a chain smoker. Oh Romeo, do go on.
“I’m just sayin’, it’s on in Cabo,” he continues. “I get to use my Hall Pass.” Instead of slapping him in the face and telling him to take a good look at her tits because it’s the last he’ll ever see of them, Blahdrina sighs that she shouldn’t care, but she does. NO! NO NO NO! You should care! So do! Please! “I’m just letting you know,” he says casually. And she agrees: “Okay, fine.”
WHAT? Fine? What kind of moron are you? At least dump this jerkoff before he steals the last wretched bit of heart you have remaining. Please?
Gertrude Stein would be proud.
Arrrrghhh. I officially hate Blahdrina. What is the matter with her? We know it’s not because she can’t get laid. We know it’s not for his money. Why in the world would she just sigh and basically say, “Please sir, I want some more?” There were a few times over the last couple of years when I thought she might be slightly less retarded than Heidi, but now I rescind that assertion and nominate her for Biggest Idiot of The Hills 2008. Who’s with me?
“Oh God, what happened to my dignity?”