My best viewing advice is to just fast forward through the opening bit of Carlton subjecting her mother-in-law Gloria to a Hustler shopping spree. Ostensibly they were there to inflict thongs on the forgiving Catholic woman but Carlton would have no screen time if she weren’t modeling bits of spangle and pleather or smirking about her sex life. So inevitably Carlton emerged from a dressing room wearing a rubber American flag bikini and gave Gloria a little lap dance. It couldn’t get worse than this, right? Alas, Carlton popped up again later in the episode giving instructions on how to best build her sex room stage. The nanny was there, giggling at all the innuendo, and I fear we shall all soon be subjected to a choreographed dance of these two women dressed in nurse outfits taking each other’s temperatures.
Yolanda has pimples. I’ve mentioned before this season is a drag, yes? After drenching her chin in a Neti pot of Visine, Yolanda joined her King David on the Nobu balcony. The woman, ever chic, wore ripped jeans and a blue sweater and blue pumps. David wrote her a banal love letter; Yolanda gave him a sexy book of nudie beach photos. He ordered himself some appetizers.
Kingsley is free! Kim got a video of her pup running in a golden field without a pacifier in his mouth. It left her feeling conflicted though. While she was glad to see him behaving like a dog, would he still agree to be dressed in a My Mommy Wuvs Me onesie when he came home? With the dog away, Kim decided it was time for her to play. So she zipped herself into an adorable little racing suit and strapped into the passenger seat of a race car. This triggered memories of her driving herself at the age of 12 to work in her Grandma’s car. Oh Kimmy, can I please ghost write your memoirs?
Back in the rose garden, Lisa wondered if she’d been pulling too tightly on Brandi’s reins. The younger woman seemed peckish of late and Lisa was starting to second guess their bond. Perhaps she should let her whirling dervish of a friend spin free? What better time to plan a rose petal-strewn dinner at SUR—dear God, not another crossover into that den of poreless banality—where Joyce and Brandi could
really tear into each other mend fences.
NEXT: Keep your friends close, and your mutual friends closer.