If you or Andy Cohen happens to be reading this, please take a few minutes to answer my questions. You know I love you best (although those Beverly Hills gave you a run for your stock portfolios.) But this season is… off somehow. Is it the new additions to your already tight social circle of hellish rebukes and backstabbing? Is it that Kelly is finally medicated and just not that fun to be around anymore? Is it that Ramona seems all matronly and Jill is sort of MIA? I’m not sure but I need to know what’s going on.
- Why does Alex think she’s a model? Ew.
- Is Alex really younger than me?! Double ew.
- So what’s the deal with Simon? Is he or isn’t gay? My gay friends won’t claim him out and my straight girlfriend who is constantly falling for gay guys isn’t the slightest bit attracted to him. (Okay triple ew. He’s… Simon…) But what was with that comment about “it could have been Alexandra or Alexander?” And what was with that sequined jacket? And those red leather pants? Damn, I wish Sonja lifted the ban on him speaking at the marriage equality march! I would love to have heard what he had to say.
- Why is Alex such a flaming bitch now?
- How medicated is Kelly? It’s almost not enjoyable to make fun of her anymore.
- Why does Kelly insist on wearing sleeveless shirts?
- Who told Sonja that big, black furry hat was appropriate to wear? Ever. Under any circumstance.
- How come no one likes Jill anymore? Just because she was mean to Bethany? How come everyone likes Bethany so much? Is Jill even on this season?
- Ramona’s eyes freak me out. This is not a question. Just a statement. And she still hasn’t mastered the whole runway walk.
- Good lord, Ramona, how miserable are you that you need to make poor girls cry while they are interviewing for the already degrading job of being your plebian assistant? I’ve got two words for you, Crazy Eyes: Sexual Harassment.
Oh don’t worry, I’ll keep watching in hopes my questions get answered in some gin induced, art gallery fund-raiser bitch-fest. And even if you don’t answer my questions I can at least rely on a gin induced, art gallery fund-raiser bitch-fest.
Champagne wishes and caviar dreams, ladies.
Your pal,
Shelly
