Apparently, the E! Network thought it would be a good use of some folks’ time to follow “Beverly Hills duo Dorothy and Morgan” around with cameras because they are “more outrageous than their bank accounts.” That horrible decision-making process is such that I’ll pick up with this show where I left off with Divorce Court and Bridezillas.
The inaugural episode of this monumental moment in TV history commences with Morgan referencing how she’s, like, “somewhat ‘insta-famous’ in the Instagram world.” She also notes that she’s not into foot fetishists or guys who are all, like, I love Asian chicks.
Then they show some blonde chick. I assume that’s Dorothy. She’s complaining about the volume of selfies she’s taken today and how she looks like she’s “from Kenya” in the context of sagging skin below her waist.
Roxy is then self-introduced is a “Persian Princess” dropping some $488,680.50 on a shopping spree.
Then there’s some guy who doesn’t want his friends donating to a charity that doesn’t support his life decisions. Gay, I presume?
Anyway, the dynamic duo instantly heads into a conversation about how much “boob sweat” has accumulated in Dorothy’s cleavage while power shopping along Rodeo with Morgan, who is quick with a compliment of how very awesome her pal’s boobs look on this power-shopping day.
When we get into the obligatory selfie-taking segment, Morgan wonders whether she “looks this bitchie in real life.” She lists her profession as “being #funemployed and #fabuluxe.” Daddy is worth $3B. “When I grow up, I want to be … the Asian sensation of the world,” she says, before talking about all her $10K+ purses.
I can tell already that this is a valuable television program that will solve most of the world’s ills.
They segue between characters via text-graphic type jawns. And IM presentations. And hashtags. How moderne.
They use this gimmick for formally introduce Morgan Stewart who “has a blog called Boobs & Loubs.” (“For the girl creating her own future … For the boy who digs boobs.”) She explains that the blog fits her life because she has great boobs and a lot of shoes. She thinks she could write a book. She thinks she’s really funny. She seems more insecure than funny.
Most of the responses that I have personally gotten have been positive, and the negative usually come from a random 13 year old from Nebraska who has an abundance of photos with his mom and dog? Like wtf? I just don’t understand the shit talking on people’s photos? Like isn’t the point of being cool at that age – is to actually be cool and ignore “losers” like me?
Much of the episode is about how often they check Instagram. And post to Instagram. And fit into a tidy little box of narcissism.
“Arriving to a party sober is the worst thing in the world,” says Morgan, insightfully. Seriously. She’s right. Points in her favor there.
But I digress.
How does E! think it’s an acceptable use of anyone’s time to produce a TV show about ladies who do nothing but look good (see Morgan, we’re not all 13yo Cornhuskers!) and waste money earned by someone not named them?
Anyway, Morgan’s boyfriend Brendan is a balding realtor. Which is pretty funny. Even when they’re slugging Dom out of the bottle and eating “caviar from the Caspian Sea.” There, they leave a $10K tip on a $30K bill. Another point in their favor.
Brendan and Morgan want to set Dorothy up with a guy. She says they don’t necessarily need to be rich, just “swaggy.”
Other topics covered on this episode: Whether “gay people’s blood is a good as straight people’s blood,” constipation and Pepcid AC, choices in sunglass purchases, how they’re kinda like Tupac and Biggie and how posture affects breast presentation (i.e. bad = bad; explainer: how can you have good posture with luscious breasts?) Point of order: Her breasts really aren’t all that great, at least as seen through an HD TV; inflated self-worth or attire disguising grandeur?)
Shit gets real when Brendan’s BFF Saachi spills red wine on Morgan or whoever’s “marigold yellow velvet and satin” shoes. Sacchi is quickly forgiven because he looks as if he feels bad.
It’s at this point when I mention to my bride that “I don’t nearly hate these people as much as I thought I would.” She concurs. I fear we’re going to watch these because we want to, not because I want to hate it.
Onward. Jonny, the gay songwriter, is introduced shortly thereafter. That’s when talk turns to how the gays aren’t allowed to give blood. 🙁 Jonny thinks the others giving blood to such a blood-collecting homophobic group is, like, meanie, and that Dorothy, his hag, just doesn’t understand his stance on said whatever.
This tiff continues to the point where the gang doesn’t know whether Jonny will show up at the event that they worked oh so hard to organize; i.e. they’re providing lemonade and red carpets and valet parking.
This drama — along with Brendan being all ladyboy about giving blood because he doesn’t have his license or the cojones requisite of being a man — is what carries much of the second half of the first episode; this speaks to problems of depth; this speaks to a show that won’t evolve into double-digit episodes, I presume.
#BloodIsTheNewBlack is their branding idea. Timely, sure. Lack-of-creative-insight, surer.
But that doesn’t stop people from showing up in Bentleys. Dorothy notes that she thinks she’s going to shit herself when the thought of injecting things into her comes to mind. But that’s OK. Because giving blood will make her thinner, right? One pound gone. Hope it didn’t come from her breasts. Because that would damage an already fragile sand-castle of self worth.
Anyway, Jonnny shows. How awesome.