More Meaningful Title: Nope. This was the best title I have ever read. My work is done here…
Penthouse living™ continues…
For some reason Caroline would rather be a Russian oligarch’s mistress than a proper wife. She’s luxuriating in being a strange bitch, like a caricature of some pre-raphaelite whore who’s been raised up by her local pimp to mingle in polite society. This level of self-absorption is difficult to watch. It’s clearly an act, as though all her ugly size zero clothes and Birkin’s lying around like garbage are something we all want. Remember people are starving in the world, Caroline. And you are often one of them. Reader’s Note: I, too, had a butler on one of my vacations and I asked him to … get me cigarettes. Yikes! Not one of my finest moments.
Is Marissa moving to California?
! Yes ! …? But did she?
Adela and Sophie have a chat. Adela tries to confront Sophie on her giant big mouth… but then get scared and retreats into the passive aggressive royal ‘we’, clarifying that she’s actually speaking for ‘the other women’. No! This is not how you successfully negotiate with someone, you Gorgeous Dum-Dum. Adela, you are not anyone’s advocate but your own and you are having difficulty managing that at the moment tbh…
Unfortunately, Sophie sold her soul to Caroline two episodes ago. So Sophie lies, cheats, steals, says and does anything and everything to maintain her tenuous and ultimately meaningless relationship with La Stanbury. #SuperTruth: You have served your purpose for her, Sophie, and for the Stanbury’s in general, really; now please retreat with dignity (read: get thee to a nunnery immediately and take a vow of silence) and do not return until you have married someone Caroline wants to be seen with socially. (i.e. Russian oligarch’s are acceptable)
Meanwhile chez Fleming
The script for this scene must have been:
Fleming overreacts to getting a book deal.
Let’s not forget she’s been on Danish reality TV and released 3 cookbooks in Danish already. Her literary agent is suitable embarrassed that her double first in history and literature from Oxbridge is being wasted on a reality show for illiterate Americans. At least someone has the decency to blush during filming, and that person is Fritha.
Sophie has the much anticipated discussion with her husband regarding … dunno. They neglected to provide me or the producers with an agenda. Ignoring the fact that lawyers work this kind of thing out on behalf of the rich and empty beautiful, she asks her husband to plan a steady schedule to visit with the boys at her home. He counters with the totally resplendant: “yeah, the kids can call me anytime”. Holy shit, he fucking hates you, Sophie! Sophie has real problems realizing when The Stanbury’s people hate her.
This week in Lady Julie Crying™:
Lady Julie and daughter Emma part to uni. “Sugar Tits” starts crying and whispers “my best friend, my best friend” into her daughters hair like one of them is about to be executed. Emma, dry-eyed and relieved to not be her mother’s direct emotional crutch anymore, hightails it out of there. This must have been staged because her father and brothers are nowhere to be seen. Or maybe they are all unrelated figments of Lady Julie’s fevered imagination. None of the other ladies have actually seen her husband, the Duck of Sandwiches, amirite? It’s cool, Lady Julie, I don’t have friends either. Let’s ride bikes around London together, shall we?
Fuck it’s Juliet™ has 100K insta followers. She throws some balloons in a tree to celebrate. She is the #LondonLitterbug
Who IS READY FOR A PART-TAY BITHCES (sic)??
The ladies each get ready in their own way. Caroline has her slave indentured servant MUA Luke paint her face to cover up the horns and fangs. He gets teary eyed thinking of how relieved he is to never be forced to do this again saying he will miss Caroline. They are about to have a moment…when!
Enter Sophie with a tiny mirror and a tiny lipstick and a tiny personality and crawls into corner, purring, content to just be in the same room as Caroline. Sophie thinks Caroline is crying over her divorce when really she’s tearing up because Luke won’t do her makeup anymore. And they don’t correct her. It’s amazing.
Best line of the episode
“Cover up your growler.”-Luke, referring to Caroline’s mons pubis.
Second Best Line of Episode:
“The poisonous dwarf in polyester”
-Adela, describing Juliet
Usually when people leave the country forever, other people throw a party in their honor. Caroline must throw her own. That’s how much of a Queen Bee she is, Fuck It’s Juliet™. Put that in your “blog”, you runty idiot.
OMG did Juliet just mention an exorcism?!?! That’s so creepy. Because that is exactly what I think everytime I type the words Fuck It’s Juliet.
…Right before she gives a toast to Caroline ⚡️ “sparking” a debate about loyalty making everyone angry and throwing the party in the toilet .
Readers Note: Fleming is not here.
No, wait, she is!,
but she’s so able to refrain from engaging that I’m seriously jealous . She and Luke should teach a class.
The winner of this episode is …
Lady Julie! She manages to look and act completely in charge and normal during the confrontation with Sophie and at Caroline’s dreadful party. A twofer! She’s actually cool and calm because she knows that Caroline is evacuating in shame and she is being lifted up, socially. Getting under Caroline’s skin is reason enough.
PREDICTION TIME! Take a trip with me into the future, Dear Reader.
Fleming discovers the cure for cancer while re-creating a traditional Scandinavian dish that features forest ingredients her mother told her about in a dream. It is the culmination of everything Fleming has ever wished for and she retires to Calcutta, India where she joins the Sisters of Mercy and lives a life of poverty in the service of God teaching impoverished street urchins how source flowers using the power of the mind. It becomes a trillion dollar business. She is suitably confused about the randomness of chance and luck for the rest of her life.
Adela decides to stay single and undergoes intensive therapy for 30 months in the hills of Austria. One day, while walking her therapeutic cow named Milka, she befriends a fellow patient recovering from PTSD. He is an insurance agent from Leeds. He is neither wealthy nor famous. Together they successfully practice their self-care techniques, and a platonic friendship blossoms. He is handsome in his own way. She never stops being beautiful, but now she is beautiful on the inside. And now – for the first time – she feels beautiful. Eventually they fall in love. They are abstinent until their wedding night. Adela’s children officiate the wedding and visit as much as they can.
Juliet becomes the Ambassador to Poland for the UK. Her parents are “sparking” proud. She takes her job seriously but accidentally kills Putin at a state dinner when she’s shouting and throwing cutlery. She is hailed as a national hero and statues are erected in her honor. It’s easy because they are so small. The UN invites her to speak but it’s a disaster. She is killed in a suspicious plane crash a few years later. Poland names a city after her. For a decade, thousands of Polish children are named Juliet. Even the boys.
Marissa and her husband become back-to-the-landers in Northern California, developing sustainable and locally produced ingredients that are shipped by Foot Sherpa across the contiguous US, and sailed globally by Polynesian mariners in large rough-hewn sea worthy canoes, thus preserving their indigenous ways of oceanic navigation using star maps and tribal knowledge. US Foot Sherpa-ing becomes the new Coachella, and grad students fight for the few remaining spots each season. It is not uncommon for an Adjunct Professor of Astrobiology at Harvard to take his sabbatical walking and hitchhiking as a Foot Sherpa. Many books are written about this new economy. The uniform includes a lot of hats, designed by Marissa, because if there is one thing we know about Marissa it’s that she loves a good party hat. Marissa is featured on the cover of Forbes, Architectural Digest and Martha Stewart Living in the same month. Matt fills out the way bills and does some light book keeping. He buys an old train carriage to play with (because British), and builds an electronic dance club inside “just for fun”. It becomes all the rage and his traveling club becomes the secret night spot for all celebrities, heralding the New Gypsy Chic Movement of Tiny Houses and part time blue collar work. He calls the train/ club “Move to Cali or I will Divorce You”. Just kidding! He calls it “Sugar Tits”. Kidding again! It’s so exclusive it doesn’t have a name.
Lady Julie makes her slow and steady ascent in British society supported by her husbands unfailing love and governed by her own solid Midwestern values. Lady Julie does become close personal friends with The Duchess of Cambridge and it’s a relief to be among people who truly understand her. Together they make small but important contributions to Britain’s approach to nutrition and exercise. She is a national symbol of clean living and hard work and Yoga becomes the fastest growing sport in the U.K. Until it is overtaken by the NQL, National Quidditch League. No one ever calls her Sugar Tits.
Caroline anchors a new show called The Real Housewives of Dubai. It’s a huge success featuring her teaching small impoverished street urchins how to be butlers to the super rich. Her nickname in Arabic is “Sugar Tits”, which she absolutely loves. In Season 5, she tragically oversteps her welcome and flirts with the wrong Saudi prince during Eid and gets her head cut off, live on CNN. She will be remembered for her perfect smile and her … actually, nothing else. That was her only redeeming quality: fantastic orthodontia. Same, Caroline.
And that’s it. My feisty of bunch of bloated whores are done for this season and maybe forever (gasp). But can that even be true? I doubt it.
In the future, women will have fantasy reality show leagues the same way football does. For example, who would win in a cage match: Caroline Stanbury or Erika Jayne from RHOBH? Erika, right? Obviously. Let’s not be stupid.
But what if it was Caroline Stanbury v Vicki Grundelson from RHOC? One is younger but the other has a longer reach… you see what I mean? It’s fun.