The girls double teamed us this week with two new episodes. In the first episode, Kim and Kourtney plan a trip to Vegas for Kim's 30th birthday. They call to discuss with momager Kris, who doesn't want Scott there because of his drunken behavior last year. Kourtney busts out her best monotone robot voice and tells Kris not to come. You almost expect sparks to come out of her like when Rosey's wires got crossed on the Jetsons.
Kim doesn't want to turn 30 because it's "soooooo old." Then she says it again. Oh Kim, please. I don't know many famous-for-nothing 30-year-old millionaires, whose main talents include a sex tape and the ability to identify any NFL jockstrap by smell alone.
Robotron Rosey, Grandma Kim and Scott fly to Vegas. Seeing one airport slot machine, Scott ran back to NY like a baby, comforting himself with his blankie (Hef robe) and pacifier (cigar). He didn't miss much. Kim spent most of her birthday night out finger-combing her hair. Zzzzzzzzz.....
Robotron Rosey tried to spice things up by ordering a keg so everyone can do keg stands. At first I thought I sat on the remote control and was watching the witch from The Wizard of Oz. But, it was just momager flying over the keg, with her jet black hair, black tights and black booties.
When they get back to NY, Scott throws Kim a birthday dinner and when he gives the toast, it's all about him. No seriously, it is. The dude is a full-on narcissist.
Next episode opens with Kim in bed with Shengo. Kim asks him how old he is. Um, shouldn't you know major identifying characteristics about someone before you get in bed with them?
Kim eavesdrops on Kourtney and Scott having sex, which becomes the theme of the episode. Kim is actually funny for a second until her cameo where she says "It's grossing me out." You know what I do when I hear things that gross me out? I don't stand at the door listening.
Off to Dash, Kim sits in a chair and her ass breaks it. How hot is that caboose now, boys?
Shengo announces he has to leave in two days. Let's go to Kim for her reaction: "Two days. I just like can't even process how soon that is." Let me help. It's in two days, Kim. Shoot this reminds me of something and I have to digress.
I worked at a Property Management Company and we didn't exactly have the sharpest knives in the drawer working there. This man's car was towed out of his condo complex and he came to our office to complain. The Property Manager said he violated the visitor parking rules.
The man said, "The car was only there for 72 hours." The Property Manager said, "Sir, it was more than 72 hours. It was there for three whole days."
Too good not to share this gem, I went down the hall telling co-workers and everyone looked at me like I was nuts. One person deferred to their calculator and punched in some numbers before she laughed. Hey Kim! If this famous for nothing thing doesn't work out, there's a sub-par Property Management Company in Fairfax, Virginia you can work for. They would love you there!
Scott keeps lamenting how horny he is, so he decides to go to the gym. Kourtney agrees to go. I'm sure you see where this is going. They had sex at the gym. The only thing shocking about this is the absence of video cameras. Is it me or is it really annoying watching everyone manhandle and throw Kourtney around? I know she's petite but everyone treats her like I treat my 40 lb bags of dog food.
Shengo leaves, Kim cries, The End.
This week The Hollywood Reporter included a rundown of the Kardashian paychecks. Never mind the amounts and absurdity of it all, Khloe states "these shows are a 30-minute commercial." Thanks Khloe, but the rest of us already figured this out. What I can't figure out though is, and someone, please help me with this:
If you read a Kardashian Twitter or Celebuzz page, it's one step away from an infomercial. When you attach your name to anything that pays you money, aren't you in effect, "selling out?" And when you sell out, aren't you cheapening your name? And when your name is cheapened isn't your whole message diluted and no one listens to you anymore. Money or not, I would personally be a lot more selective as to what I attached my name to.
But then, I grew up taking to heart some of my dad's best advice: "You can never repair damage to your good name."
Truer words were never spoken.
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Melissa blogs at Velvet in Dupont and can be found on Facebook.