Previously: Cori up chucked a Cookie and some Coco during her last blowout as a free woman. Romi examined her life through sober eyes and saw how pointless it’s been. Claire turned down an internship because, hello? She’s Claire. Whitney caught Sara lying to her face, finally vindicating Alyssa, Rachel and half of Los Angeles. And Sajdah stupidly did too much, too soon for Chanel.
It’s another gorgeous day in LA, where “umbrella” is usually prefaced by “beach,” and the only cold front for 50 miles is the one Claire hits whenever she goes to a pitch meeting.
After finally realizing that Sara tells the truth about as often as she showers, Whitney says she’s done flip-flopping, and she means it this time. No, really. Instead, she tries on another kind of flip-flop and goes to a pool party where 20-something lesbians are milling around, holding drinks and talking, occasionally sweeping their bangs out of their eyes. I thought I saw Scarlett but who knows — it’s a blur of tattoos, sunglasses, bikini tops and hats. Trendy lesbians are indistinguishable from one another when standing around in groups. Like zebras.
Whitney sits poolside, holding court. She tells a story about double dating at the prom, only to hook-up with the other girl, leaving her boyfriend and his best friend scratching their heads and holding their d–ks. This intrigues a fetus name Mel, who’s so ridiculously young, she doesn’t know if she’s gay, straight, bi or just very susceptible to Lady Gaga lyrics.
In fashion news, the Solid Gold Dancers called. One of their headbands is missing.
Cori and Kacy are consulting with an ob-gyn about how to get their bun in her oven as effectively as possible. With a limited amount or sperm, Kacy’s original idea to do it the “old fashion way” sounds wasteful, indulgent and just plain weird. The nice doctor offers to let Kacy inject the syringe, thereby including her in the process, and eliminating the need to schlep to Home Depot for tubing.
More importantly, the doctor tells Cori she has to stop smoking. Cori admits, “I’m really scared because I love smoking… I thought ‘Baby time. No more cigarettes!’ But no. It’s stressful and I want to smoke.”
Someone please buy Kacy a catcher’s mask and a tranquilizer gun. It’s going to get ugly.
Later that night, Romi goes alone to visit her friend Drew, a man who looks like dad, talks like an AA sponsor, and implies she’s welcome to stay over like a lonely creep. While Kelsey catatonically shuffles down Santa Monica Boulevard, offering to make change for random strangers, Romi is lamenting to Drew how hard it is to be a non-drinker living with a girl who drinks Two Buck Chuck straight out of the bottle.
Meanwhile, the never-ending pool party is now in Phase II. Alyssa and Rachel show up. The sun has gone down and the hot tubbing has begun. And just look at the color of that water. Hair product, Tattoo Goo and Chlamydia: 1. Chlorine: 0.
Rachel is looking fine in her stripper heels and not nodding off, for once. She notices Whitney and Mel are flirting, but says with a wink, “You can’t send a girl in to do what a lady can do.” There’s a lady on this show? Where?
Whitney knows a sure thing when she rubs up against it, so she and Rachel retreat to the bathroom and stink it up with a no-strings-attached quickie.
Oh, there will be strings, my friend. There will be strings.
While Whitney helps Rachel remove vag juice from her skirt, Sajdah is across town, misreading her phony homance with Chanel and showing more desperation than Sean Young at a B movie audition. Sajdah confesses she can’t bear to lose Chanel, not even for a few hours. Furthermore, moving in together wouldn’t be out of the question, even though it’s only been three weeks. Attention passengers: This train wreck is right on schedule and Sajdah is the conductor.
Non-committal Chanel has Sajdah running in circles, but Sajdah is happy because at least they finally had sex. Chanel laughs in her face and corrects her — they did not have sex. The way she sees it, Chanel claims all they did was foreplay.
Sajdah: What the f–k? What am I missing?
Chanel: [Laughs] A lot.
Sajdah: Seriously? Can we please?… Holy s–t. What am I missing? You could have done that to me for the next five years and I would have married you… We need to start having sex.
Chanel: [Unmoved] I can see.
Get off your damn knees, Grovels McGee. You’re making Sara look like the poster child for lesbian dignity.
Sara and Whitney are broken up, but they’ve come together to shoot a flyer for “Juicy,” a girl party that Whitney is hosting. Whitney’s leveraging her “fame” while she can, throwing an event where awestruck girls can spend money on drinks, admire her headband, and smell her hair.
Whitney asked Sara to bring her special brand of nasty to the shoot when they were still getting under each other’s souls. Now, it’s just awkward and weird to have Sara writhing on her as if nothing has happened. Whitney is given a grapefruit and wonders what to do with it, other than smush it into Sara’s face.
In a brilliant piece of subterfuge, Chanel is now insisting that she and Sajdah get HIV tests. It’s brilliant because it stalls the sex for a few more days, and if Sajdah says, “No, that’s dumb,” it makes her look irresponsible, even though she has the sexual history of a teddy bear.
So despite the fact that full-time lesbians have the lowest rate of HIV of any group, excluding nuns and Civil War veterans, there they are, filling out forms and giving blood samples. After Chanel asked for more paper to complete her sexual partners list, she tells the technician in her best Earnest Voice how responsible she’s being.
I don’t care how many rap videos you’ve been in, you cannot get an STD from dry humping.
Claire’s friend Barbara is still in town and Claire is giving her a taste of LA life, which amounts to an endless stream of parties, events and premieres. You cannot swing a cat in LA without hitting a celebrity on a red carpet.
Tonight is “PYT,” yet another weekly girl party. In their usual reserved cabana, everyone is chillaxing and in a good mood. Rachel is all smiles because Whitney is finally paying attention to her. Whitney’s happy because she had a quickie. Francine joins in and hugs all her friends. And Romi is buzzing on Red Bull, sans vodka, with her loyal nitwit, Kelsey at her side. Kelsey promised Romi that she wouldn’t drink, but Kelsey has problems remembering five minutes ago.
Welcome to Friday night, bitches.
Claire finally arrives and sits down with her fellow cast members. Before she can approach them with her amazing web ideas, an aggressive ladybutch friend of Whitney’s (and one of Rose Garcia‘s henchmen from last season) starts wagging her meaty finger at Claire and yells, “Is that the biggest deb you have ever seen? I know you were the big deb that moved from New York.”
Whitney: A deb is like, I mean, deb didn’t necessarily come from “Debbie Downer” but it’s kinda like what it means. It’s like, “You’re a deb. You’re like wa wa.” You’re like one step off. Is Claire a deb? I’m not gonna lie. She did rub me the wrong way, initially.
Claire tries to play if off, but aggressive ladybutch won’t let it go. Claire’s friend, Mila, tells Claire to ignore her, after ladybutch says she’s “too cool for school” and finally, “You can suck my d–k.”
Oh goodie. Get the popcorn.
Claire: Yeah, you can suck mine, too, you f–king ugly bitch.
Ladybutch: What?
Claire: Don’t f–king talk s–t. Stop talking s–t about me, girl. Seriously.
Ladybutch: I will f–k you up!
Claire: You don’t even know me! Dude, you’re so f–king ugly, it’s so sad.
Ladybutch: I’m so ugly? I’m sorry, I got more pussy than you.
Claire: Oh, f–k. You never f–k more pussy than me.
Ladybutch bellows that Claire quit her job to be a deb. Claire brays back at her to get a real life. Everyone else is standing now, not to break it up, but to get a better view. Whitney, Rose, and their friends do absolutely nothing.
As much as I make fun of Claire, she didn’t deserve to get coldcocked this way. If being self-aggrandizing were such an offense, half of Hollywood would be in jail. Everybody get a grip.
Francine notices the fracas and sashays over to see what’s going on. Claire says she’s leaving because she doesn’t apreesh getting “attacked by non-attractive women.” Francine, the Super Asian, announces she’s going to take care of this and goes upstairs to give Claire’s tormentor a roundhouse kick to the ‘nads.
Once she gets there, though, Francine crumbles and gives ladybutch a hug. Later she admits,” My intentions were to go and stand up for her, but I’m like a fricking pansy.” Some Asian you are. Margaret Cho would never stand for that s–t.
Claire’s evening is in the crapper. She wants to run back to New York where the women aren’t “pathetic,” as if this sort of thing never happens west of the Hudson. Please. I saw two lesbians brawling over a girl in the lobby of 30 Rock. You really can’t take us anywhere.
Inexplicably, now everyone’s mad at Claire. On behalf of all LA lesbians, her friend Mila is insulted by the “pathetic” crack. Francine tells Claire to stop projecting her issues on her and gets into her car. Before leaving, Francine yells, “It’s not my fault that people hate you.” Perfect.
No one is having a good night. Romi and Kelsey are home having a heated arguing about drinking when really, they should be fighting over who did this to the closet.
Their problem is simple. Romi’s been there, done that, and is ready to calm down and work towards a future that includes a real career, a 401(k) plan, and an apartment bigger than the inside of a cube truck. Kelsey, on the other hand, is in her hard-partying 20s, will spend her last dollar on a new pair of suspenders, and has spent days wondering why Hello Kitty doesn’t have a mouth. Oh, wait. That was me.
In the morning, Kelsey pads into the bathroom where Romi is applying her first layer of makeup and intones, “I want to give up drinking.” Nobody likes a quitter, Kelsey.
Instead of doing cartwheels, Romi instinctively knows Kelsey will resent her someday, for all the fun she missed. To keep their relationship together, Kelsey decides she will also find a big career and make money or something, so that Romi doesn’t have to take care of her like a mother. She’s really serious this time and —
What’s that? A bird?
One good thing came out of PYT’s Big Eff You to Claire; Vivian is talking to her again. After reading Barbara’s chat message about the incident, Vivian jumped to Claire’s defense in a way Francine didn’t. When the doo doo hits the fan, you find out who your friends are.
Meanwhile, Claire has cemented Francine’s opinion of her by texting all kinds of crazy after the fact. She called everyone a fake hater and says Whitney is a c–ksucker. Guess she’s uninvited to Juicy. Besides, Whitney doesn’t need the Queen of the Internets’ approval to feel good about herself.
Happiness is a new headband.
Everyone is getting ready to get Juicy-fied. Sajdah can’t wait to meet Whitney because she’s an unabashed fan of the show and says, “That’s why I moved here.” That is about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And I live in West Hollywood.
Romi is going solo because Kelsey can’t go to a club and not drink. Instead, she’ll going with Drew to an AA meeting. Drew dispenses some recovery wisdom to Kelsey: “If you have one foot in the future and one foot in the past, you’ll piss all over today.”
Of course, she has no idea what the eff he’s talking about. “Wait, what?” she says lethargically as she stares at his sneakers. Never mind, Ginger, just get your jacket.
At Juicy, it’s just Whitney and 700 of her closest friends. She explains that this is pretty much her job now, being “famous.” Everyone who’s anyone is there — that is to say everyone who was at PYT. And Haute. And the Abbey last Sunday.
Sajdah finally meets her celesbian idol, Whitney, and practically asks for her autograph. Calm down. While Francine hits it off with a new friend, Alyssa makes the rounds and Sara shows up, ready to climb into her go-go cage and do what she loves most: humping the air in her underwear and hoping people are watching her.
While all that is going on, Cori and Kacy are running late because Little Miss Non-Smoker is freaking out on a nic-fit and in search of one of those fake water vapor cigarettes. Also, Kacy is carrying a purse?
I am so confused right now.
After six hours without her smokes, Cori is really cranky. She wants to punch her hypnotist in the nose. She tells Kacy to stop interrupting her while she’s ranting. When she discovers that her cell phone is missing, she has a meltdown. Kacy gently offers, “It’s just a phone,” because she clearly has some sort of death wish.
Cori: F–k me!
Kacy: Baby, it’s OK.
Cori: Just let me have a moment, I need a moment, I’m not good.
Kacy stands by while Cori has a cry in the car. After she calms down, Kacy drives her around, backtracking until they find it at a convenience store. Saint Kacy says, “You are the luckiest girl in the entire world.” I think Cori already knows that.
As they make their way to Juicy, Romi is already there, drinking a non-alcoholic beer and getting weird texts from her creep-o friend, Drew. Now he wants to take Kelsey home with him and have a sleep-over. Sometimes lesbros need to be reminded there’s a line.
Nearby, Claire is trying to figure out who this woman is, and why is she listening in on her convo with Francine. Francine tells Claire to come get the boxes she so thoughtlessly left at her house before three o’clock tomorrow. And btw, this is my new girlfriend, as of 10 minutes ago, Khristianne. She’s funnier than you, she’s nicer than you and she’s not you.
This is what I call an interfacial relationship. Just my opinion.
On her way home, Romi finds out that Drew is lying in bed with Kelsey, watching her television and not leaving. She calls Kelsey to say she doesn’t want to deal with people when she gets home, prompting Drew to send her a snippy text about being thrown out of her house.
Drew is mad because he used to hang out till the wee hours with Romi. And he wants to be doing it again with Kelsey. When you have one foot in the past, and one foot in the future, you piss all over today, pal. Go home already.
Over at Francine’s house, Khristianne’s very strange assistant, Scotty, is throwing all of Claire’s things out on the curb. Boxes are broken open, clothes are strewn on the lawn. Francine may be mad but she’s not a jerk, and tells him to bring everything back under the awning. In the end, it’s all good because Francine has logged onto moveon.org.
Here are this week’s tweets. What did you think of this episode?
Next week: Cory gets inseminated by her doctor, but Whitney and Alyssa make a shooting dildo for Corcy, just in case. Kelsey gets canned just as Romi starts a new job. Claire is short an Asian and invites Vivian to come visit her. And Sajdah finally gets her wish.
