Hey guys. Well that's over, huh? For now. Yes it was the season finale of The Hills and The City last night, one last sad sparkle before we were plummeted into the gloomy darkness, bereft of our chirping princesses of the dawn. Sans glowing white teeth, sans bugling honeymoon eyes, sans sandy cobweb baloney taste, sans absolutely everything these glowing bitches give us. Let's grieve together. Succinctly. I haven't the energy today to wax big and paragraphic about these horrible, detestable people.
The Lonely Hobo Dance of Audrina
So what happened on the show last night, you're probably desperately wondering, clawing at your faces and pulling your pigtails and slightly peeing your pants. Well, here, watch the opening number of this video:
That's what Audrina did last night, sort of. She at least wore that exact outfit. There was a scene last night where she was wearing a little jaunty chapeau and a sad hobo face and my strange and unpleasant brain immediately clicked and whirred back to the above segment from that Peabody Award-winning episode of The Brady Bunch. And it's fitting, I suppose. This noble hobo optimism so deftly displayed by Carol and Marcia. Audrina is just like that. Except that she's not optimistic about finding a pie cooling on a window sill or finding a dead fellow vagabond and rooting through his bindle and discovering rotten can of beans. No, she's optimistic about only one thing. And that thing is Justin Bobby.
"Thing" is the only word you can use to describe Justin Bobby. He's a creature from somewhere not terribly faraway, somewhere nagging and urgent and close by, but he's still not one of us. He speaks in Swamp-Talk and exhales coffee fumes and sleeps when he's awake and is awake when he sleeps. He's not a human being and yet is consistently treated like one on this show. Audrina—proud hobo gleam in her otherwise-dead eyes—is so butt-crazy in love with him that she's willing to hurl herself into the sea to prove her passion. That was what was going on towards the end of last night's episode, right? When JB and Audy-Sue met down by the oceanside to have one last chat? I'm pretty sure Audrina was going to throw herself into the waves, like the end of a Kate Chopin novel, consumed by the roaring main, a briny death for her torn, briny heart. But it didn't actually end up happening, sadly.
Instead she stood there while he said "I don't like you, like... as a person" and her eyes burbled brown sticky goo that I think was something like crying and she said "I hope you find love someday Justin, otherwise you'll die alone. An old, lonely old man. Who's lonely. And old. And a man." Justin Bobby nodded his satyr-like head and you knew that he knew that she was right. He would turn into his Italian grandfather, all hunched and sitting in a soft chair, his hemisphere of a belly ballooning out of a sweat-stained undershirt—a rounded, brazen fact, a comma. Fearing that, he ran off to Kristin, leaving Audrina alone by the water, her face still and slack, a sad song playing softly in her head.
Where Kristin was was packing up her Malibu Mansion, because summer had come and gone, fleeted past like a sand piper, disappeared into the tulip blush of dusk wending its way in from the East. She and Stacie the Bartender reminisced about the boys of summer, all the dewy love they'd birthed and shared during these silly blousy months. And then Justin Bobby came running in. He pushed Stacie the Bartender to the side (she went careening into a book shelf and a vase on the top tottered and wobbled and fell over, hitting her on the head and knocking her unconscious, she slumped to the floor, and she's actually probably still lying there, waiting inertly for rescue) and went in for a big ham-hockin' kiss with Kristin. They ran out to the lanai and said romantic things like "I dunno... I could... have... fun with you..." and "Yeah... fun..." They made spastic love to each other on a chaise lounge. They had a baby and tossed it, screaming, into the sea. They are together forever now—perfect circles, lazy figure eights, twin redwoods older than the pyramids. Shanti.
Speaking of babies, Heidi is not pregnant. Heidi is not pregnant and we can all now breathe a sigh of relief and know that MTV is not that evil. They may peddle this slushy firework mush to youngsters, prodding their forks at their little mouths like old Romanian grandmothers, saying "Eat! Eat! You like. Eat.", but at least they won't bring an innocent child into their glass-shard snow globe. At least they have that boundary, haven't become resistant to the shock of that invisible fence just yet. At least there's that. Anyway. In an effort to compete with Kristin and Justin Brody in the "OMG so romantical!!" department, Spencer and Heidi had a very heartfelt heart-to-heart about how their hearts felt. Spencer said things like: "When I was sixteen I said I was never gonna get married, and now, boom. So, y'know, baby could happen someday." Then Heidi cooed with her eyes and her lips melted and as she cleaned the sluice up from the floor, she sputtered "That's a huge step. That's wonderful to hear."
Wonderful to hear that one day Spencer might not-hate the idea of a baby just enough to put one in his wifey's butt or wherever babies live. So, maybe next season MTV will just cut the tether, throw up their hands, and say "Eh, fuck it. Bring in a kid." I mean, they've already brought in that curious little gnome youngling Enzo. That thing was costumed last night. Like, he was wearing a hat and accessories. Children don't wear hats and accessories. They wear potato sacks and milk cartons. They wear grass stains and mud. Enzo isn't a human child. I think he's from the same place as Justin Bobby. They came over together, crossed the border into our world, clasping hands and muttering soft prayers in Swamp-Talk, a cold blood moon dangling above them. I wonder what they're doing here. Whether they have mission or purpose. Or if they're just refugees. And if they are, what's going on back there that's so bad they had to flee? They're troubling, these thoughts. They come to me at night when I'm trying to sleep and for a moment my life seems pretty empty.
Speaking of empty, Jayde is dead. Jayde was killed at a birthday party last night. Or, no, wait it wasn't a birthday party. I mean, no one was wearing pointy hats (sadly). It was actually an engagement party for Sleazy T. Jerwillikers, known to his friends as Sleazy T. Yeah, Sleazy T., one of Brody's main bro-dudes, is tying the knot with a poor man's Reese Witherspoon. This got Jayde talking about marriage, so Brody promptly killed her. She fell to the grass, dead as turnips, and that's where she'll stay. Much like Stacie the Bartender. Maybe they're astrally connected in some way.
That's it for The Hills. It was all about love. The City, meanwhile, was all about hate.
It's Either Me or Her
I don't really want to talk about The City because it's dumb and stupid, yes, but also because it's stupid and dumb. And fake. It's so fake. What happened this week? This happened:
Congratulations, MTV! You've got a hit on your hands! Now someone go please stuff Olivia Palermo in a sack and drive her out to Amish country and leave her there. Oh, and put Roxy in that same sack. Bah to all of them. I'm excited for Kelly Cutrone's new Bravo show. That's gonna be aces. This muck? Blurgh.
OK, that's it. Sorry to be so terse, but I'm super pissed at the New York State Senate right now and can't really focus. Oh, and, erm... this is my last Hills/City recap ever. For real. I can't watch these shows anymore. Sorry guys. Thanks for all the fish.