Tonight on “The Hills,” we FINALLY get a blessed break from the frustratingly endless Blahdrina drama (Blahdrama?) as well as a sneak peek into the freaky Aussie fetish of one Whitney Port, who finds a male model just not hot enough and ditches him for a superhumanly hot musician. I mean, really, why settle? Plus, I hate to break it to you, but le ‘stache is back.
After a recap wherein Spencer is blamed for Heidi’s drunken idiocy (listen, I know it’s fun to blame him for everything from Heidi’s boob job to global warming, but she had three tequilas before he even showed up. Give Homeboy a break), we open at People’s Revolution, where the blondies (and one Twink) huddle around an office phone, which broadcasts the dooming voice of Kelly Cutrone.
I hope that shoulder rest is wearing a condom.
Through a series of Charlie Brown-esque “Whap whap whap, whap whap whap whap”s over the phone, Kelly informs the crew that she needs some emergency fashion assistance in New York, immediately! Fashion Team, Assemble! As though there’s some kind of chiffon crisis in Queens and the city may implode if they don’t get there right away. She enlists the help of – who else? – LC and Whitney, while the other two assistants barely stifle their envy of those two reality show bitches. In addition to saving the world from a chintz meltdown, this is also a great lead-in to Whitney’s new show, “The City,” coming soon to an MTV near you! How convenient.
“HELP! I’M CHOKING ON MY OWN CUTENESS!”
Oh, I wanted to ask you guys: what’s your favorite moment in the “Hills” credit sequence? This one is mine, and I’m still waiting to see the actual moment to air.
Everybody in the hotel say Wooo! Wooo!
At PR-NYC, Kelly Cutthroat hails everyone’s ability to color-coordinate, putting them on the same level as Forever 21 employees. She berates an employee for talking on the telephone, mimicking a little girl voice and demanding she hang up and give her full attention.
These gleaming white teeth brought to you by Crest Whitestrips.
She’d better be careful or she’ll end up like… Audrey? Jenny? Who was that chick who got fired that I loved to call anorexic? Eh, she’s off TV, I guess she doesn’t matter anymore. Anyway, LC and Whit stroll in looking like a spring day in shades of lavender and cream and wave to Cutthroat. She responds by asking, “WHERE. IS. YOUR. BLACK.” plus nervously psychotic giggle thrown in for good measure.
“I WILL EAT YOUR BABIES.”
Whitney steps up to the plate, explaining that they’re saving their black garments for the fashion show, while LC essentially looks terrified and moves her mouth as though she’s starting several sentences, nodding along with Whit. See, this is why Whitney’s getting promoted and moved to New York. She’s found the only thing the Fashion Nazi hates more than color: dirty laundry. And surely a couple of L.A. girls can’t be expected to have more than one black outfit.
Cutthroat’s one redeeming quality is that she adores the humiliation of Whitney. She finds ample opportunity by informing her that her boy Alex (Kelly’s words, not mine) will be walking in the show, so, you know, just be prepared to wear something slutty that day (my words, not hers). Whit blushes deeply and cowers in her oversized, 1982 megaprint shirt dress.
I think I used to have a Mormon neighbor who wore this exact shirt/dress.
She informs the two that, oh yeah, LC will be seeing him in his underwear, by the way. Does that bother you, LC?
“Are you kidding me? I haven’t seen a man in his underwear in like five years.”
At Buckler, the girls arrive and insist they’ll do anything he tells them to do. Nothing like a full-service PR firm, right? The designer asks Whit to dress Adam, who we know must have been hired by the producers, because he’s fully mic’ed and keeps making nervously douchey banter and vague answers to simple questions.
Exhibit A: Whitney: “How old are you?” Adam: “How old are YOU? Heheheh.”
Exhibit B: LC: “Did you come here to model?” Adam: “Maybe, maybe not.”
But his pecs are incredible so I guess he’ll just have to do.
“Hey, as long as you’re down there…”
Alex (the dude from last time) comes in for a fitting and the scene is strewn with vaguely sexual innuendos, knowing smiles between Whit and LC, and sadly few visuals to illustrate. For example, why must we have to watch LC put a hideous jacket on a hanger while Buckler is saying, “Get your clothes off. Do you have your underwear on? Good. Aw no, that should be zipped UP.” Please, MTV, give this recapper some eye candy! Mama needs a little something once in awhile.
“Why am I suddenly craving hot dogs?”
I think LC is in a bit over her head with this tasty meat market, and her nervousness is given away only by the fact that she is incapable of not playing with her hair every time she looks at a half-naked guy. Which, here, is about every three seconds. Additionally, Whitney keeps taking sharp breaths in, raising her eyebrows and flaring her nostrils. I guess these are the California mating signals.
Back in L.A., Heidi is beginning what is surely a painful stretch of unemployment. See, I just have a lot of trouble believing this is a hard time for her when I know she is getting paid 35 grand for putting on lip gloss in front of a mirror. The only thing that soothes my anger is the fact that she’s looking more and more like a hand-me-down ghetto Barbie doll every day. Oh, and the knowledge that she’s a moron.
“Glossing Sequence Activated.”
Spencer tells her he doesn’t understand why they have to get up so early to get her a job. Ummm, because the real world starts before noon? He thinks that the Bolthouse party needed some entertainment. Indeed, and isn’t a wildly drunk, 90-lb, bottle-blonde PR coordinator just the kind of pizzazz they needed? It’s kind of a weird scene, because the whole time, Heidi only moves one side of her face, using only one side of her mouth to speak, like a stroke victim or something. In any case, Spencer tells her he’d love to be her #1 reference, because he’d tell them she was the best employee he ever had. Way to demean your woman, Homie. Your babe seems less than amused.
“Weird, I can’t even taste the vanilla on my lips.”
No offense to my stroke-victim readers. Spencer suggests they go out that night to celebrate her newfound free time (yeah, there’s nothing like bottle service when you’re supposedly broke, right!) and she mutters “Okay. We’ll go out tonight,” before walking out of the room. Smells like a setup to me.
Hey, speaking of Barbie dolls…
MTV, sometimes you know just what I need.
They’re like really hot versions of Charlie Brown’s Pigpen. Ol’ Justin Bobby Pigpen could learn a thing or two from them.
#1 – SHAVE.
#2 – BE QUIET.
#3 – STAND AROUND MOSTLY NAKED ALMOST ALL THE TIME.
The only thing that really concerns me is the odd presence of bobby pins in everyone’s very short hair. I guess the artistic meaning escapes me. Alex comes over to ask Whitney what she thinks of his look, and she tells him he looks like he has “a really bad fake tan.” Couldn’t have said it better myself, honey. But seriously, folks, this guy’s gorgeousness is killing me.
I mean, you know… after a shower.
Adam, looking even more like a hobo, asks the girls to come to a restaurant that night to hear his friend’s band play. Sounds kind of lame to me, but the girls agree anyway – Whitney hesitantly, LC with a gigantic smile on her face.
Just as Alex is getting a mighty jealous frown on his face, the fashion show starts. You know what’s weird? When I watched this episode on TV they played that M.I.A. song “Boyz” during this section of the show, but online it’s a different song altogether. This has no relevance to the show itself, and actually I have no joke to go along with this observation, I just thought it was bizarre and wondered why they’d do that. Especially because M.I.A. is The Shit.
At Il Bastardo later that night, the girls arrive and some kind of generic band is playing, probably thinking, “Coooool, we’re on The Hills!” At least, that’s what I thought until I saw the lead hottie.
Holy Effing Ess.
And then I saw Whitney completely ignoring polite introductions because she was rapt with attention to the band.
That’s so rude of her, so… un-Whitney. That’s when I got worried for sweet li’l Alex. He comes over to greet Whit, who’s already got a puddle in her panties over the lead singer’s Australian accent, so she sends Alex away with the excuse that she can’t leave LC by herself. You know, seeing as LC is an incontinent old woman? No, LC would be fine in the big scary city, I think Whitney just wanted to swoon over Jay (that’s the other hottie’s name) with LC. So Jay comes over to meet the girls and – you guys – I cannot understate the hotness of this male. I mean, when you break it down, there’s nothing particularly special about him: Shaggy hair, five o’clock shadow, straight teeth. There’s nothing I can say to differentiate him from Blahdrina’s Pigpen. But damn. There’s a certain je ne sais “do me” about him.
All those in agreement, say “Do Me.”
Whitney raises her eyebrows and flares her nostrils like a wildebeest just freed from the zoo, commenting that “He. Is. SO. HOT.” Agreed. Back in Cali, the Aryan duo party at a “launch event,” which makes me immediately suspicious. We can all see where this is going, right? Indeed, twenty seconds into the scene, Spencer “happens” to spot Brent across the room, which surprises Heidi. (not to be one to call people out on supposed “reality,” but wouldn’t she have known about the event from working at Bolthouse?) Spencer says he’s going to go talk to him, Heidi begs him not to, so Spencer says he’s going to the bathroom. Good one! So slick.
He approaches Brent and babbles in broken sentences about Heidi living and breathing SBE, nobody having excuses for anything, and, um, what’s the point of this conversation? “Listen,” Brent interrupts, “I don’t understand why, every time you come around, there has to be trouble.” He goes on to say that he doesn’t even know Spencer, and he’s making him uncomfortable, so could he please get the fuck away? Wow, a coherent and level-headed dis. Amazing! (Wait, do you guys say dis or diss? I’m really not cool enough to say either one, even if I go back in time to 1992 and make friends with Will Smith.) Something else I’ve learned from Brent, our loveable little elf, is that, even if you’re not taller than your opponent, if you keep your chin slightly elevated and look down to the other person’s mouth, you will always seem to have the upper hand.
Back in NYC, Whitney gets drunker as she strategizes with Lauren about the best way to bag the Aussie. She decides the way to go about it is to flip her hair, pop her gum, flash a brilliant smile and buy him a shot. (That’s probably what I would do, except I’d replace the gum with a slight arch of the lower back.) They flirtatiously talk about songs with titles like “Kisses” which is just about more corniness than I can handle. He asks her to go out with him afterward, and she replies that she’ll go, as long as she leaves for the airport at 6:30am. “You’ll have six hours to sleep,” he says with a wink, because, as we all know, there will be no sleeping of any kind tonight. Whit excuses herself to go find Lauren, ever the wingwoman, who is texting Brody, probably.
“XO, Britney Canada Whore”
Whitney comes to LC and bounces around excitedly, laughing and trying to catch her breath. Damn, we haven’t seen any of the “Hills” girls act this excited over a guy since… well, ever? I definitely have never seen LC act like this. She always just gets all doe-eyed and shy and bobbles her head around when answering questions to a guy she likes. Meanwhile, the editors use the same three shots over and over again of sweet Alex looking all wounded and possessive, a complicated look to pull off. That’s why he’s a model. But back to the swooning. “He is so…….” Whitney begins. “I just wanna….” Umm, I believe boinko is the word you’re looking for? Or perhaps mustard the hot dog? Stuff the Thanksgiving turkey? She just finishes the sentence with a wildly girlish giggle and concludes, “He is SO. ADORABLE.”
“But… not cuter than me… right?”
Back at the totally not-set-up launch event, Heidi is feeling humiliated by Spencer (what else is new?) and decides to go talk to Brent. Honestly, if Brent is on the short side, Heidi is the size of a pocket sprite.
The guy in the background is like, “Haven’t I seen that chick’s ass in Maxim?”
Heidi tries to apologize (for real! not even in the LC “I’m sorry you feel bad” way!) but Brent completely lays the smack down. He tells Heidi exactly what everybody else has not been able to say, because, in case you haven’t noticed, none of them are very well-spoken, clear-thinking or intelligent. I am so impressed by him that I will give you his smackdown verbatim. Just imagine it with Heidi yip-yapping in the background.
“Dude, your boyfriend’s a nightmare. What’s wrong with you? You’re an adult, you’re responsible for your own actions. You can’t let people like that influence your life and make bad decisions for you.” Oh man. Then the cherry on top: “Don’t you know that you are the company you keep?” Dayumm. This man was raised well.
And just got a little hotter.
Heidi then has the gall to ask him for her job back. He shakes his head repeatedly, telling her it’s the last thing on his mind and she should probably ask Sam, not him. (and probably wear hot pants and nipple tassels while she does it.)
In New York, Whitney is doing the most unadvisable thing in singledom history by talking about her ex-boyfriend and breaking up in general. “It’s, like, the worst thing ever!” she exclaims. You know, I love the girl, but sometimes there’s just a little too much space between her left ear and her right ear. In other news tonight…
Wouldn’t their kids be so cute? And have weird accents? And perfect teeth?
By this time, Alex has had enough and interrupts their deep conversation by telling her he’s leaving. “Do you wanna go say g’bye to him?” Aussie asks. “Um, not really,” says the new bitch in town. We’ve never seen this side of Whitney! Jay asks her to leave with him, and as they gather their coats she giggles maniacally, flips her hair and tickles her nose. Either she’s really nervous or totally coked out. I’m guessing she just hasn’t gotten laid in awhile.
“Ahahahaha, I’m sure this will have no repercussions when I move to New York!”
As the credits play out, shy Alex looks so heartbroken that I just want to hug him to my bosom and tell him everything will be okay, and does he want to get a drink? I live in New York too, you know.