We open on Kendra chatting with the secretaries in the mansion's office, which seems to grow smaller and more outdated with each passing episode. They tell her that she has to wear a Tom Brady jersey for the celebrity flag football game she's been invited to play in on Superbowl weekend in Phoenix. Why a Brady jersey? Because the Pats beat the Chargers in the playoffs.

Oh crap - Kendra looks like she's going to booty-dance the office staff to death. Luckily, the ladies tell her they're joking just in time.

The Kenster is so relieved, you'd think they just told her that Hef died and left her all his worldly possessions. "My heart was in my throat! I was gonna puke right now. I'm gonna wipe my shoes with that." And she does.

I have actually seen first hand Kendra's devotion to the Chargers when some college friends and I spotted her in Boston the day before the Pats beat the Chargers. In fact, saying "spotted" is a bit of an overstatement because K was a walking stereotype of herself - she was covered in Chargers logos, wore giant sunnies, and had her bleach-blonde hair in that high ponytail we have all come to know and love. She was so obvs, my roommate recognized her from behind.

I'd like to now tell you how she was really rude to us, or said something ridiculous when we chased her down and asked to take a pic with her, but she was perfectly friendly. She made her newly face-lifted mom take the photo (albeit blurry) and then asked us for directions to Cheers.

OK I've got that off my chest. Now I can proceed with the relentless mocking.

Over in the Playboy studios, Holly is "directing" a cover shoot of Kayla, some chick she discovered on MySpace. I obvi put "directing" in quotes because Hollz is more of a roller-skating theme-day planner than anything else. But that's beside the point - what I really want to know is how she convinced a random unsuspecting MySpace user to get naked for Playboy. Here's how I imagine Holly's initial message to Kayla read:

"Hey Kayla!

"This is Holly Madison. You mite no me from the Girlz Next Door magical picture box show. I think your SUPER hott! Wanna come out to Ellay and take your cloths off for a skank mag? Thanks, WB!

"Luv, Missus Puffin"

I'm not saying Hollz has shit for brains, but she is from the same state as the Russian Watchdog Pit Bull. (No offense to any Alaskans in the gasmii, who are obvs tres intelligent.)

Anyways, so since the cover shoot is taking place in a mock-up of an old school ice cream parlor, Holly decides that everyone has to dress up in '50s gear to get in the spirit. The studio staff must looove working for the boss's insipid child bride. I hope Hollz at least dug really far back in Hef's closet and brought in his old poodle skirts and Elvis wigs for those guys.

"If I didn't stare at naked girls all day, I'd so quit."

Cut to Bridget who has found in the Superbowl yet another opportunity to pretend it's Halloween. She's headed to Trashy Lingerie to order a custom-made football jersey/Playboy corset for the party the magazine is throwing on game day. Are these girls contractually obligated to throw the Playboy logo on everything they own? I can imagine Bridget's bunny-bedazzled gravestone now.

Meanwhile, Kendra is getting her hair done by some French Playboy stylist - a scene that is pretty uneventful other than the fact that Kendra relentlessly makes fun of the poor guy's accent. "Say 'Superbowl!'" 'Dra yells, and then horse-laughs at the dude when he pronounces it "suPEARbowl." Listen, you bleached-blonde necrophiliac coke whore, this guy speaks TWO languages, while you can barley manage one. And he's allowed to use scissors without safety edges. Leave him the eff alone.

Tu est tres stupide, la Kendrizzle.

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Posted in Girls Next Door by Anglophista at 1:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)
Last Comment: lajane on Oct 21, 2008 03:00 PM.