Holy fuck balls. Ladies, call your hair stylists to put tinsel in, bust out your Herve Leger dress circa 2011 and go find a fire crotched, electronic cigarette smoking BFF who also conveniently talks to dead people and assures you that your husband will never “emotionally satisfy you”. Unless you have been hiding under a rock the size of Kelsey Grammers lingerie collection (#homo) or are just FAR too intellectual to give a fuck (#pretentiousloser) hell has officially frozen over and my prayers have been answered. ONE MISS ADRIENNE MALOOF AND CAMILLE GRAMMER ARE RETURNING TO THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF BEVERLY HILLS. When I found this out I was digesting my yellowtail sushi, getting a pedicure and wondering how my nail girl Tina keeps her hair so shiny… luck of the Asians I assume. As I relaxed and wondered what has to go wrong in your life to thinK acrylics with “flowas” are socially acceptable my phone began to convulsion in my purse like a mofucka. I usually don’t let ANYTHING interfere with my paint job but I then began to fear one of my 100 year old great Aunts may have kicked the bucket and seriously fuck up my holiday weekend… that would be seriously SO rude. How awkward would a funeral be on the fourth of July? Fireworks during Shivah would just be too much for me to handle. I unwillingly decided to face my issues and answer my fucking phone.
I was delighted to see that it was not a relative but my best gay Maxy-Poo. I answered immediately and he excitedly told me life changing news. Two words “ADRIENNE AND CAMILLE.” This is what I like to call Fag-Hag telekinesis. No dialogue necessary, I knew EXACTLY what he meant. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.” I nearly kicked my pedicurist in the jaw out of excitement. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? FUCK I NEED TO GO GET HAIR TINSEL.” I thought the news of “Yoyce” (or Jacqueline) and that tranny-witch Carlton being canned was the highlight of my year but NO – this is far more emotionally satisfying. Between Adrienne and her cat faced aggressive self-promotion and Camille Grammer and her majorly PR trained new identity with a special side of uncomfortable grind dancing I began FOAMING AT THE MOUTH WITH ANTICIPATION. I hope all you bitches are as excited as I am and are downing red velvet Zing Vodka and publicly discussing your famous ex-husbands small penis in celebration.
If I ever believed in a God, it is now. And by God, I mean Andy Cohen. #DREAMSDOCOMETRUE