So, the Rich Kids of Beverly Hills are back from Cabo in all their hashtag grandeur. Dorothy bought a new place in a highrise.
“If my parents are fond of spending more than $3 million on an apartment for me,” she says after contemplating how popular she’d be if there was a Benihana next door, “I’m not going to argue it.”
Cut to Balding Realtor and Booblouber looking for cars. He wants an SUV. Likes a Range Rover that he can throw golf clubs in the back. Backs away from BL’s comment about a stroller. Because, get it, maybe they’ll get married so it’s OK to make “wifey” type decisions.
Cut to “#daydrinking” and gay Jonny talking about diarrhea. (“It’s like an exorcism,” he says). Roxy’s talking about a need for money, even though BL runs off a litany of things she has, including a Range Rover and two full closets.
Seems as if a lot of this show centers on rich kids sitting around tables talking about things that interest no one but themselves. Is that the new requirement for E! programming? If so, what’s the next level of this? But I digress.
Now they’re ice skating. Requisite Nancy Kerrigan comment. Requisite “am I getting free plastic surgery” after falling und mangling my purty lil face, asks Booblouber. “I have no Asian grace,” chimes in Dorothy.
“Why are you gliding like it’s the Ice Capades, and I’m like a homeless person that doesn’t know what she’s doing?” Booblouber asks the brisk air at a Santa Monica Pier rink that BR rented* for $10K, a locale at which Asian grace’s date gets all grabby feely. (*I suspect E! picked up part of the cost, but who knows?)
Back to a table. Dorothy and Jonny. Talking about Roxy. She thinks Roxy is an interior-design intern.
At “#wineoclock,” drinks are drank from a “screw-top” bottle, the wine in which “smells like the gynecologist’s office.” BL says that BR may be “the one.” A dog starts licking Dorothy, who hired other interior designers not named Roxy (she doesn’t want to spend “more than a quarter million dollars”). This should create enough drama for umpteen table talks.
Cut to a club where the point is made that they do NOT wait in lines because how embarrassing would that be?
“The only reason for cranberry juice,” says Booblouber, essentially out of nowhere, “is a UTI or yeast infection.”
Ok then.
So, at tha club, they ask people to take pictures of themselves, and get into a Photo Booth for more pictures to be taken.
Taking a picture of which to take another picture
This will enable them to take pictures of those pictures to post on Instagram. This is evidence that these people can not see enough of themselves.
Shame they couldn’t get a better gig than an E! show, though, because they’re probably the only people not named me who’s watching at this point. Oh, that was mean. I’m sure some people are watching this, just nowhere near the number of people that Dorothy and Booblouber think should be seeing the pictures they take of pictures of themselves. 🙁