Make it stop Bravo. Let the rumors be true that y’all are axing Carlton. Or at least forbid her from more tongue-waggy, eye-poppy, unsexy sex scenarios. God, that was a depressing opener as Carlton and her equally untenable buddies auditioned dancers for the big pool party. But Carlton’s Minnie Mouse friend doesn’t want them to get nakey. Not yet. “You get nakey,” she smurfed to Carlton. “No, you.” “You get nakey.” “You.” Nanny Elizy, who we really have no reason to believe has ever even met Carlton’s children, has a solution. “Why don’t the both of you get nakey?” Ha ha ha. Some girls wandered into the room in uncomfortably cut bathing suits and humped near the pole. “But I want somebody that knows how to work in a pole, in a positive way,” whined Carlton. She is a franchise worst. Like worse than Quinn, the OC lady who liked to wear wigs. Like a million times worse than Aviva. Aviva, people!
Brandi has looked increasingly depressed as the season has worn on. Perhaps she’d been tasked with watching early screeners and the episodes made her question humanity? She was hating on her sweet new dog Buddy who lifted his leg on her comforter and was following her around the house and is not in one bit Chica. Her Dad wasn’t speaking to her because of her skanky Oscar dress and the fact that, whoopsies!, she might have called him a drug dealer in her book when in fact he just like to grow some good weed in the tomato boxes. Lisa perhaps doesn’t know how to empathize with depressed people so she, lovingly I think, told her friend to snap out of it. Annoying advice frankly when you’re seriously down.
The MVP award of the episode definitely goes to Yolanda, who is forgiven for everything after her showing last night. She accompanied Brandi to her Sacramento hometown for a Drinking & Tweeting event and was the perfect ally. Brandi’s anxiety levels had reached her debut season levels, so nervous was she about reuniting with her Dad. And I don’t blame her. That phone call home—”Hey Dad, it’s Brandi. Happy birthday,” she said. “Here’s your Mom,” he replied—was rough. But the whole family came to the event, including Brandi’s sweet nieces, and her shy, khaki’s wearing brother, and her mother and her equally nervous-looking Dad.
At the event Brandi had the room wish her Pop a Happy Birthday and told a very endearing story about her folks opening up their home to her childhood friend whose parents disowned him for coming out of the closet. This was Brandi at her most winning—a little awkward, grateful, and funny without trying to shock anybody. At dinner she couldn’t help herself but let it uncomfortably rip (“kami-f—-kaze,” she yelled as her brother put earmuffs on the girls) and bring up her father’s pot habit. The evening seemed close to coming off the rails but Yolanda fielded the moment beautifully. She was focused and attentive on Mr. Glanville, while never missing an opportunity to praise her friend’s accomplishments. And later on the penthouse balcony Yolanda held back a niece so Brandi and her Dad could brave a very charming moment of nervous, tender reconciliation. Forgive me for getting a little misty. I wish my Dad lived in the same city as me!
NEXT: Shabbat Shalom.