And neither do we.
Previously on The Hills, Heidi was weak, Spencer was an intolerant brat, and LC was a frigid non-bitch. Tonight on The Hills, a double recap! Lucky you. Because I was surprised by the special new episode right before the MTV Video Music Awards, you get a double dose of my snark regarding a double dose of boring, set-up drama created by MTV. I swear, sometimes this show is like “Valley Of The Dolls” but without the drugs. And, really, where’s the fun in that?
“LC… promise me you’ll never get back together with Jason Wahler. Promise.”
The first episode of the night centers around a break from the mundaneness of everyday life for a jaunt to beautiful, gaudy Las Vegas! The LV Board of Tourism must have some kind of deal with “The Hills” for as much time as they spend there. This time it’s all for Frankie’s birthday, who, for as small a part as he plays on this show, has proven to be sort of the Great Unifier within the Los Angeles group o’ ‘tards.
The Trio of Blondes (Lauren, Lo, and rising star Stephanie) walk out into the glorious sunshine and towards a private jet, which happens to belong to Duhg. “You broke up with a guy with a JET??” Stephanie asks with the appropriate amount of incredulity. But in incestuous L.A., just because you break up doesn’t mean you stop seeing each other.
“We’re still friends. Call this a benefit.”
The girls squeal shrilly as they board the plane and take off. Inside, everyone is wearing aviator sunglasses (always dress the part!) and they toast with champagne. LC calls Duhg “baby” while Stephanie looks on with a slightly insane, lustful gaze that probably foreshadows something coming up in a few episodes. File this one away, kids.
Lo remarks blandly, “I think it’s fun for us all to, like, all hang out together, because we all get along so well.” Well, yes, that’s generally a basis for friendship, at least in most other parts of the universe. I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but I’d say I generally tend to spend time with people I like. But all’s not well in private jet paradise. LC mentions that Blahdrina and Pigpen will be meeting them in Vegas, then alludes to some sort of “long story” involving drama that she’ll tell us about later. That’s weird. Isn’t the entire dragging plot of this show one “long story” that we don’t really want to hear about?
Broday, already drunk and wearing his sunglasses inside (a hipster trait I loathe), stumbles over to the girls and proposes a toast to Stephanie, to whom he vows not to hold a grudge, although he follows that right up by saying having her there is like having Spencer around again. And we all know how THAT turned out. Everyone looks at each other with the same discomfort we all feel when a drunk friend makes a racist joke. Awkward!
“Really, LC? You’d rather be with this guy than me?”
The kids arrive at the hotel, which sort of looks like the set design for “Julius Caesar” if it starred Liberace. Upon entering their nondescript room, Lo squeals with delight at the beige walls and complementing white couch. What riveting design. I nominate her to replace Kelly Wearstler on the next season of that Bravo “Project Runway” knockoff for interior decorating.
Meanwhile, Stephanie shows off the newest addition to her “Biker Britney” collection.
In the two-bed room, Lauren claims one bed as her own, which means that Lo and Stephanie will be spooning tonight. However, I’m betting that, to avoid that situation at all costs, Lo will end up in Frankie’s bed and Steph will end up snuggling with the crackhead down the block. “So Lauren, who you gonna make out with tonight? Duhhhhhg… or Broday?” Lo taunts. I’m hoping she’ll make out with a blackjack dealer, but I’m not gonna hold my breath.
Steph complains about how awkward Broday is making everybody feel, because he knows that she’s a good person (really?) but he’s just spreading crap about her behind her back. Lauren, a 60-year-old grandma trapped inside the body of a 22-year-old, wisely advises, “All you can do is show him he’s wrong.”
“Like what, behave?”
Back in LaLaLand, Spencer’s busy playing what looks to be a rather violent version of “Duck Hunt” when Mama Restylane bobbles in. Spencer complains about how much she works all the time ,which is fucking fitting for someone who won’t even look up from his video game to greet her.
This is what happens when you spoil your child. He grows up to live in a video arcade with no drapery.
But then she mentions that her sister is moving out to L.A., which displeases his highness.
They “converse” about how Holly will be “staying” with them. The whole argument plays out like a bad high school drama class improv exercise. She sighs, he gets angry or something. I am so fucking sick of these two; they’re not even entertaining anymore, they’ve just become caricatures of people they used to pretend to be. The only remotely funny thing that happens is Heidi cutting Spencer off when he begins to complain about how Holly leaves her tampons everywhere.
In Vegas, the Blondettes arrive at the boys’ room, where Broday, still wearing the shades, automatically suggests they take shots. Good lord, it’s still sunny out. At least have a cocktail by the pool or something till dusk. Meanwhile, we catch Duhg’s wanting eyes pointed right toward Steph.
“Damn girl, you got some hot armpits.”
LC finally recounts her story about Blahdrina; some major drama went down at a Hollywood hotspot that we did not see?? How is this possible? Perhaps the producers have finally stopped forcing the girls to attempt to act and just gave them stories to tell instead. Meanwhile, Broday chills on the sofa, wearing his Mad Max shades, chomping his gum and advising her to cut Blahdrina out of her life. Ummmm, dude is starting get a wee bit belligerent, methinks.
That does tend to happen with desert renegades.
Nothing good can come of an angry drunkard who refuses to remove his sunglasses. Just ask Britney. Honestly, what’s with him? Did he get a black eye? Or is he just afraid of people seeing too much of the emptiness inside? Meanwhile, Holly has arrived at Vapidity Central and doubtless expects Heidi to welcome her with the sisterly love they’d been taught in Colorado, perhaps a welcoming hug with a plate of cookies and milk. She does get a hug, plus a high-five from Spencer, who, wearing a blazer and acting even more fake than usual, because now he’s faking being fake-nice, reminds me of David Brent. I expect him to break out a few inappropriate comments at any moment, but instead he just informs Holly that they have dinner plans, so, see ya! Sure, don’t ask her to dinner with you, especially since she’s “so tired” from her 14-hour drive over.
One Big Happy.
And maybe it’s because I just watched “Leaving Las Vegas,” but Spencer spinning around maniacally and twitching to get out of the house is just creeping me out. Heidi, of course, goes along with him and leaves poor sis in their funhouse of immaturity to unpack and enjoy her first dinner in L.A. alone. Good times. You’d think ridiculously wealthy people would have some manners.
“Guess it’s just me and four cameramen now.”
Blahdrina and Pigpen arrive at the Venetian and go ga-ga over their identically boring room. Right away, Blahdrina launches into her side of the “drama” story to a dude wearing a Harley Davidson trucker hat (isn’t that kind of an oxymoron?). Meanwhile, I’m wondering why Blah and her homeless gent are even here in Vegas. Do they even know Frankie that well?
“Cro-Magno don’t care. Feed Cro-Magno some beef jerky. Please.”
At dinner, Stephanie compulsively flips her hair and stares placidly into space at everyone who’s known each other since they were tots at Laguna Beach Daycare.
Broday continues on in his quest to becoming newest Evil Douche on the block by bad-mouthing Blahdrina and saying he’s sick of talking about her. To dissuade him from that drama, Steph pursues her own by asking Brode why he told LC not to hang out with her. Sigh, well, there’s nothing like a good public confrontation to spice things up a bit. “Ohhhhhhh it’s awkward,” LC mumbles, burying her face into a cocktail.
“I’ve known you for a long time,” Brode says calmly, “and I know how crazy you are.” Ummmmm, this is the part where we all leave the table and let Mommy and Daddy fight behind closed doors. No dessert tonight. “Wwwwwhhhhhaaaaaat???” Stephanie shrieks, her voice rising like a slide whistle in one of those old Looney Toons cartoons.
Steph keeps her weird smile plastered on her face while she informs Brode that the only time she was crazy was while she had a drug problem.
Which I can only assume was when you decided to get those awful bangs.
Let’s hear more about that!! Yes Stephanie, I’m sure that all of that is in the past, and that you haven’t done anything remotely druggy since partying with a clique of Hollywood elite.
Broday calls Steph a “complete psycho” (YES! I love when people just say things like this. If there’s anything we need more of, it’s one kooky famous person calling another kooky famous person out on their inherent kookiness) and Duhg tries to keep the peace, waving his hands around and crying, “Stop! Stop!” but what reality is HE living in? At this point, even LC is kicking back, letting the party happen around her.
“Don’t say I’m crazy,” Steph pleads. Yes, they don’t like to use that word at the asylum, do they? “Ummmmm, you’re a little crazy,” confirms Brode. This sends Stephanie into tears, and as the girls waddle off to the ladies’ room in equally formless potato sacks of dresses, Duhg chides Brody for making a girl cry. It’s true, he’s become as hostile as Spencer at this point.
“It’s not easy to be the bigger person,” muses LC, Queen of Being the Bigger Person. Steph is still weepy, so LC pulls out the big guns: she digs into her bag of phrases and pulls out LC-ism #73,541: “Don’t ever cry over someone that wouldn’t cry over you.” Ah, so true, so true.
Luckily, Stephanie finally gets to display her weeping skills. She would like to thank the Academy.
Interestingly, LC does a really good thing. She tells Stephanie that whatever happened in the past, they were mistakes she made when she was having a hard time. Now she’s a different person, with a different life. She tells her she’s stronger now, and for Christ’s sake, put on your makeup again so we can go party, mmmkay? Steph feels better, they hug and their bracelets rattle loudly as they gather their purses and head back into battle on the dance floor.
“Even though, you know… it WAS kind of your own fault for bringing it up.”
But fear not, young audience! At club LAX (I see they haven’t traveled too far from home, have they?), there is much more drama to be had. Upon the arrival of Pigpen and his Blahwoman, Brody gossips, then claims to be above gossiping.
I love the scenes MTV chooses to give us subtitles for.
Lo greets her archenemy, and they make small talk about getting dinner or something, followed by a period of silence roughly 40 times too long for a club situation.
“So. Here we are…. drinking. Think I’m gonna go make a phone call now.”
Blahdrina gabs about her troubles to birthday boy Frankie, who frankly doesn’t give a damn, he just wants MTV to pay for his party. LC drags in Stephanie, who just cowers in the corner like a wounded animal. She and Blah avoid each other for a good five minutes of tension, while Frankie slurs about everybody needing to make up and play nice, you know, like boys would.
Namely this dude rocking the White Man’s Overbite.
Before long, Blah leaves the dance floor and we cut to her and Pigpen in a lounge, where, from the filming style, I might believe this to be a Christopher Guest mockumentary, except for the drunken bitch session going on. Pigpen counsels her to just forget about it because WHO FUCKING CARES. He suggests they leave and the camera briefly pans to his cocktail… but isn’t he supposed to be not drinking anymore or something?
They give their regards to Frankie McSlurry, who moans, “But… I love you guys!!!”
“… and I swear I will NEVER put my finger there again! Unless you want me to.”
Seriously, guys. These are the only girls I’ve (never) met that can create such a to-do over nothing. Literally nothing. What they’re fighting about is not hanging out. Give me a fucking break.
At Bolthouse, Spencer pulls up to the parking lot and calls Heidi, yelling, “YO-YO!” Heidi, wearing a graphic tee that reads in hot pink block letters, I WANT MORE, whispers, “Yo. What’re you doing.” Spencer commands her to come down for their semi-annual Alleyway Confrontation special!
“Good lord, didn’t we just do one of these?”
As usual, she gives in and, as usual, she hops into his car like a daytime hooker with nothing (no one) else to do. She demands to know what’s so important that he’s interrupting her very important work in public relations. He informs her that Holly’s been killed in a freak arcade game accident and that he’s very sorry for her loss. Just kidding, he’s just upset that Holly’s been hanging around in her pajamas (that’s HIS job!) and erased three of his shows on TiVO. Seriously, kids, I couldn’t even make this shit up if I tried. You’d slay me for being too ridiculous. And I would like to slay these two for the unbelievable absurdity of their relationship and continuing (though petering) fame.
Heidi lowers her voice down to the tone one would use in reasoning with a five-year-old. You know, when you have to explain to a child why stealing someone’s ball isn’t nice, or why it’s beneficial to put away all of your toys before bed. For once, she speaks to him on a level he can understand, chiding him for wasting her time and ruining her life and making her transform her face into that of a Madame Tussaud’s wax figure. Or maybe it was just the first one. Whatever.
Kind of lifelike.
The next morning in Vegas, the Blondettes wax poetic about their legendary night out while Stephanie moans that her ego’s still bruised from Brode’s tirade.
She calls this look “Disco In A Glad Bag”
Frankie stumbles in complaining of a hangover and lack of sleep caused by the fact that Brody and Duhg got arrested last night. Wait what?! Brody’s really earning his keep, ain’t he? However, what kind of pussy jail must they be in that would allow Brody to text message Frankie to alert him to his incarceration? Whatever happened to one phone call?
What better way to lead up to the Video Music Awards than that? Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease let this lead to a “Hills” and “CSI:” crossover episode! That would be the best!
Part Deux – Bail Bonds in BabeLand
24 hours later, we return to our lovelies gathered ’round a table at the hotel, rattling off a list of local jails. It’s pretty cute to watch them try to figure this shit out. LC comes up with the brilliant idea to go right down to the “bail bond store” to get Broday out. Awww she’s so adorable, thinking that Get Out Of Jail cards are sold in their own boutiques.
“I’ll take a venti skim bail bond, no foam, thanks babe.”
Lo wonders aloud why they had to go and get themselves arrested. “That’s just what boys do,” sighs Stephanie. No, that’s just what CRIMINALS DO. Just then Frankie waltzes in with the two jailbirds, who seem pretty fucking smug. I think maybe they were still drunk, because Broday is still wearing the Drunkie Shades. “Are you okay?” Lo asks them like a worried mama whose kid just scraped his knee.
“Sore anuses, but nothing a little tequila can’t fix.”
They guffaw like recently freed zoo monkeys and regale the girls with tales of “casino jail,” which was where they ended up after dissing some other inebriated fellow. Snoozefest! That’s the lamest jail story I’ve ever heard.
“You could have at least dropped the soap, give us something to talk about.”
Is going to make the world’s best mother to a teenager.
Now that we’ve gotten the cliffhanger out of the way… everyone exits the hotel separately, haunted by memories of 24 hours of boozing, dancing, and losing their money (and possibly someone’s virginity) to a card dealer named Kiki. It’s all very reminiscent of a bad Chevy Chase movie that may or may not exist. Outside, Pigpen chills with the homies while wearing his hat backwards (how very Fresh Prince of him) while Blahdrina and the other girls passive-aggressively compare the sizes of their shopping bags. Boys have penises. Girls have shopping bags.
Blahdrina meekly confronts LC and asks if she wants to talk, but LC barely catches her eye and mutters something about seeing her later at home. Everybody says their goodbyes (or their “see ya at the airport for the private jet!”s) and, after he kisses Lo on the cheek goodbye, Broday just settles for the awkward, ape-like picking of LC’s hair as a farewell.
Here we see the female of the species rebuff the male’s awkward advances.
Back at Heidi & Spencer’s, it’s a veritable “Three’s Company” for the 21st century… except that Chrissy is not at all lovable, Jan looks like a chipmunk, and Jack Tripper is a total asshole. Spencer waltzes in while Holly is giving herself a pedicure and whines about her being in his “office.” Holly tries to laugh it off, but as Spencer sits down and looks disgustedly at some underwear she has lying around, it becomes apparent that Spencie isn’t here for giggles. He tells her that both he and Heidi would just LOVE it if Holly would move out already. It’s always really sad (and rather compelling) when this show gets a new character and you can pinpoint the exact moment they realize the shitstorm they’ve just walked into.
“Maybe I could crash with Alvin, Simon and Theodore…”
“Fine,” she says flatly. “I’ll just leave right now.” She picks up her purse and strides out the door. Really, a purse? That’s all ya got? Why, you could have been crashing with Pigpen all this time!
At PR, LC stumbles in like an aging starlet into a saloon and asks Whitney for a bourbon, straight. Or maybe she just told Whitney everything that happened in Vegas while I was fantasizing about a bourbon, straight. Yeah I think that was it. Whitney fulfills her role as therapist (or recappee as I like to call it) then instructs LC to make some new jeans look old by tearing holes in them. My God, how will she ever pull off her own show?
At dinner, Pigpen and Blahdrina gab more about The Situation with LC as Pigpen uses nonverbal expressions of frustration and words like “unsettle-y, ulcer-y” to describe the matter. He spouts off some hippie shit about loving all and going with the proverbial flow, but ultimately recommends Blahdrina pretty much “kick (LC) the fuck out” of her life. Well, that’s loving.
He wraps up the rant by offering his bed if she ever “needs help or anything.” Yes, if by “help” you mean “bedbugs”. To her credit, Blahdrina reasons that she can’t run away from this problem, she just needs to talk to Lauren about it. Huh. Logic? That’s weird.
“Couldn’t we have just done this in our own kitchen?”
At PR, among a bevy of far cooler-looking peons, the girls are pretending to work when Blahdrina texts LC asking her when they can talk. I think we know what’s coming up eventually… they’re gonna talk. She stashes her Blackberry as Bosslady C-Face storms in to talk to them about an upcoming event and tell Whitney she gets to style for it. It’s all her Vogue dreams come true! Blah expository scene, good only for the dooming “don’t let me down!” line by Cutthroat.
Back at the Palazzo dell’Assface, the ass himself is warming up some Hot Pockets when his blondie enters, asking where “Holls” is. Spencer suggests that maybe the reason Holls hasn’t called her all day is because she was in a tunnel. “I go to places all the time where I don’t get service for five hours,” he says. Maybe he should join Verizon and get out of that dead zone. I’ve heard recently that It’s The Network. They fight about why Spencer told Holly to move out, and sure there are plenty of firecrackers regarding the family living situation, but the scene plays out with such an insane level of fakeness that I almost can’t take it. If the goal is to make us wonder how any human being could stay in a relationship with a guy like Spencer, they’ve done their job. Congratulations, we get it. He’s an unfeeling evilpuss. “Hey,” he interrupts Heidi as she frets that her sister may be mad at her. “You’re not the bad guy here.” Fine, I will say it, because we’re all thinking the obvious: No, you’re the bad guy, Pubeface.
At the LauLoBlahteau, Lo’s perusing Facebook and musing on how weird the Vegas trip was. Let’s see, drinking? Check. Drama? Check. Public disturbance ending in incarceration? Check. Seems about right to me. “It’s just weird the next day, how everyone was missing.” Well, I can see that; but how “there” is anybody on this show usually?
“Oh look, Brody poked me!”
We return to the event at Area, where it seems random people are pretending to strut a catwalk and LC & Whitney are in the back, steaming rock star clothes. It must be pretty weird to go between being the guest at the party and the one “working” it, I would think. Lady GaGa appears, and evidently she’s mute because she spends the whole scene just mouthing random words and gesturing wildly, which kind of throws off the whole “crazy electro-goth” look. Cali, we’ve got a problem: Lady’s zipper is broken.
LC & Whit join forces to heroically fix her zipper. Huzzah! Crisis averted!
“Whoopsie! Wrong hole!”
“I’ve never seen an ass so beautiful.”
GaGa gets her chance to be nationally publicized, boogying around in her plastic suit to the kind of music they usually play during a transition to an NYC scene. But before long, the song she’s jazz-hands-ing to dissolves into a sappy love song about times being tough with a slow zoom on LC. If I were GaGa, I’d be pissed about that.
Meanwhile, at the Palazzo, Heidi is jotting some ideas down in her journal when Holls finally returns.
“ALL EMPTY SEX AND NO FRIENDSHIP MAKES HEIDI A VERY DULL GIRL. ALL EMPTY SEX AND NO FRIENDSHIP MAKES HEIDI A VERY DULL GIRL. ALL EMPTY SEX AND NO FRIENDSHIP MAKES HEIDI A VERY DULL GIRL. ALL EMPTY SEX AND NO FRIENDSHIP MAKES HEIDI A VERY DULL GIRL.”
Heidi tries to talk it out with her, and you know, she’s a true master manipulator. She specializes in apologizing for other people feeling the way they do, never apologizing for her own actions. Have you ever noticed that? Like the time she went over to LC and Blahdrina’s house and was like, “I’m really sorry that you think I started that rumor,” blah blah blah. Well, this time she’s sorry that Holly felt like she couldn’t come talk to her. Then Holls does something nobody ever does on this show: she asks Heidi point-blank to tell her the truth, namely whether Spencer was right about wanting her to move out.
“Well….” Heidi begins, desperately trying to come up with a way that will make it sound like it’s all Holly’s fault. “I mean, obviously this has been hard on my relationship, but I want you to stay here as long as you want to.” HA. Well-played, devil woman. They kiss and make up.
“Ah, the warm embrace of sanity.”
At the LauLoBlahteau, Blahdrina walks across the courtyard, already crying, to go to the main house and get this shit over with. They take their designated places, dictated by the placement of stationary cameras. If you really give a shit, here’s the rundown. LC’s not mad, but she feels like she’s trying “so hard.” Blahdrina has felt too uncomfortable to hang out (maybe it’s because she’s the only one in the house whose hair contains pigment). Every time LC tries to talk to Blah, she feels like she’s bothering her (ummm, I’d probably feel bothered too if LC was talking to me). Blah feels the same way (I repeat). LC doesn’t listen (would you?). Blahdrina should say something (she has!). Blah HAS! LC never stops trying, while Blah doesn’t seem to give a shit (that sounds about right). LC invited her for dinner just last week. But Blah had tickets to the Thrice concert, jeez (seriously, what else was she supposed to do? It’s Thrice)! Then, the only worthy line of this scene, as Blahdrina accuses LC of never going to shows with her, LC replies frustratedly:
“I GO! I sit and I awkwardly bob my head at the weird shows, FOR YOU!” Yes, I can just see it in my imagination, sweet LC in one of her floppy big patterned shirts, uncomfortably shaking her tailfeather at a Mastodon concert. I would pay money to see that.
Getting back to it. LC wails that she’s lost yet another friend (it’s true, and it is pretty sad). They both weep about how hard they’re trying to be friends and how badly they want to be friends, until finally Blah’s like, “Well, let’s do it.” Bam, they’re friends again. Now was that so hard?
“Jean Valjean, please….”