Seven strangers picked to live in a loft on Prince and Broadway back in nineteen freaking ninety two which is (math, math, carry the one) twenty-nine years ago. The show has been credited as the very first reality television show even though it was like the second or third, but since it was the first one that people watched (the others were on PBS or something) it gets the crown. And it spawned a whole new genre of entertainment that, if you think about it, is pretty much responsible for the entire Trump presidency. But you take the good, you take the bad, you take ‘em both and there you have…the wrong theme song stuck in your head. Ugh.

Anyhoo, let’s reunite with these formerly young but now solidly middle-aged roomies. Who’s up first?

Julie, in a cab, NO MASK! It is truly disconcerting to see people maskless in New York City. She looks good, but she’s still annoyingly chipper so I need to move on to literally anyone else.

Becky—mask up, Becky! She wanted to do The Real World because she had a lot to say to people and a lot to offer. I cannot remember her on the show at all except for that one time she put Dixie® Cups in her bra so maybe “Look at my boobs!” Is all she had to say? I have no idea what she’s up to now because the producers have turned their attention to…

Kevin! Wear. A. Mask. He notes that back in 1992, they had a phone in the loft with a cord that ran into the wall, but now everybody has a phone in their pockets and…no cord. Yes, Kevin. Technology. But speaking of things that change, Kevin was so ahead of his time when it comes to social justice, or more like the rest of us were just way too far back from where we should’ve been. I’m guessing this will be covered more in later episodes, but I feel like we have a well-deserved “I told y’all” coming.

Norman is wearing his mask because he’s a good human. Be like Norman. It should also be noted that I went to college with Norman. Or, more accurately, we were in the same college at the same time but did not know each other. So you can just stop hounding me for autographs, please. Anyway, in the intervening twenty-nine years, Norman made a laptop stand. I want to slow clap that, but my laptop stand is a bunched up blanket on my leg so I’m actually kind of impressed with his ingenuity.

Andre. No mask. Just saying. He very quickly drags a mattress into the weight room so that he doesn’t have to sleep with anyone else and it’s the smartest thing I’ve ever seen a reality contestant do. He still has an amazing head of hair, plus he’s got a kid who wants to speak to his “fwends” which is pretty freaking cute. For anyone who’s keeping track, Norman made a laptop stand and Andre made a cute kid.

Dead pet segment, pour one or two out for Gouda and Smokey.

Heather B WHERE IS YOUR MASK? Oh my gawd, Heather brought a freaking bar in her luggage! She’s journaling and I would like to do a dramatic reading of whatever it is she’s writing, but only after half a suitcase of alcohol.

And, for the moment three of you were waiting for…Eric. He’s still less interesting than he is attractive, and what he’s definitely not is in the loft. Because he has Coronavirus. So he’s on a screen sporting a spirit sweater. And by spirit sweater, I mean a truly ugly cardigan that you’d find in the hotel gift shop at a Holiday Inn Express just outside of Santa Fe. Tears are being shed by the other roommates. Not because Eric has a potentially fatal and highly contagious virus, but because Eric can’t be on the show.

That’s pretty much it, your basic starter episode. No fauxrage or manufactured conflict or drinks thrown in anyone’s face. It’s just a reunion of seven people who used to know each other almost three decades ago.

Overall grade? Meh. It’s a decent dose of nostalgia, but it doesn’t make me want to gather up all of my former roommates and relive the glory days. It doesn’t even make me want to watch the next episode, but honestly, it’s a pandemic and there’s a lot of time to kill so let’s do this all again next week.

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I know there were a lot of super amazing political machinations and teary goodbyes, but first I need to talk about is the sweet sweet love between Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne, so let’s all climb that tree for a moment, shall we? 

The shippers out there, and I will unabashedly wave that flag, finally got their moment when Jaime pulled the old “it sure is hot in here” move on Brienne. Bing bang boom and the eldest virgin has been deflowered. But good things never last in Winterfell because winter is coming, and Jaime’s still in love with his sister, Cersei, who’s probably carrying his (counts fingers) fourth child. Life in the Seven Kingdoms is so complicated!

Speaking of Jaime, can we talk about the deterioration of his formerly formal good looks? He’s gone from ruggedly handsome with a patina of pretty to disheveled with a whiff of homelessness. It’s like watching the full arc of Brad Pitt’s career condensed into a few brutal seasons.

Anyway, I’m also loving the fondish farewell between Varys and Tyrion, two of my very favorite characters. They’ve walked the same path for so long, but soon they must part ways. And with Dragon Lady looking more like Dragonless Lady, that time is quickly approaching. I hate to say it, but I don’t see Tyrion making it out of this one alive. Sigh.

Other things of note:

• I was pleased to see Arya turn down Gendry’s offer of Ladyship in favor of a life of crime, murder, and almost certain death with The Hound.
• Sansa may be totally useless in battle, but she can cut a bitch with her eyes.
• Cersei is having a permanent bad hair day.
• Did anyone else think it was way too easy to fell a dragon? Like, why not breathe some fire on those wooden ships?
• I’m pretty sure Podrick walked away from the feast with a lady on each arm.

With only two episodes left, maybe next week Game of Thrones can get on with the business of killing some main characters or something?

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The hotly anticipated Battle Of Winterfell is finally upon us and…spoilers are coming at you faster than a wight on a wall!

For a second I thought we’d be stuck in a four-episode gaze between Bran and the Night King, but thankfully the Game Of Who’s The Creepiest was ended by ass kickin’ Arya, our first of many invaluable ladies at the Battle Of Winterfell. Did you all gasp as loudly as I did when the Night King grabbed Arya by her neck? Why did I doubt her, that girl has better knife skills than a Benihana chef. Arya ultimately dealt the Night King a fatal blow, because what do we say to death? Not today. Just crown her Queen already and let’s get on with it.

Can we talk about Lady Mormont?! She crushed it while she was being crushed!!! A noble death for a badass little Lady with a killer storyline, and a reminder that this show has come a long way from its T&A roots.

Let’s not forget Ser Brienne of Tarth. How she made it out alive with all of last week’s foreshadowing is beyond me. She and Jaime fought like champions against an enemy that doesn’t tire or take bathroom breaks. Their love is strong, so maybe after the bodies are burned and they get cleaned up the true romance between Brienne and Jaime can begin.

So that battle was cool and all, but my absolute favorite moments were between Sansa and Tyrion. Like an old married couple who have finally realize it’s just easier to stay together, they both seem to be warming up to the idea of reuniting to become a power couple for realsies, or at least for practicality’s sake. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again–Sansa and Tyrion will take the Iron Throne together.

Notice how I didn’t include Dragon Lady on my list of Badass Ladies Of The Seven Kingdoms? I mean, what did she even do during the battle? Get lost in a storm while zipping around on Drogon? Seriously weak sauce, and I can’t wait for her inevitable death at the hands of, I don’t know, maybe Cersei’s latest boyfriend?

A few miscellaneous thoughts:

• Would it have killed them to turn a few lights on? It was really hard to see who was dying on the battlefield.
• That was the most organized retreat I’ve ever seen–normally characters are running around like it’s a dodgeball game at recess.
• Kind of wished the Night King spoke in a really high-pitched voice, and with an Australian accent.
• I wonder what Cersei’s been up to….

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Welcome back to The Soap Opera Before The Storm! Below are a few observations about some of our favorite characters in what is looking like their final moments of life. It all begins with Bran sitting in his wheelchair in the snow, staring at a tree like an unpublished Edward Gorey book. All this absurdist tableau needs is a deep, meaningful conversation with a dwarf….

Speaking of Tyrion Lannister, the most prescient bit of foreshadowing has got to be his two cents about sister Cersei’s complete and utter failure to send any Lannister troops to Winterfell, save for her one-handed and dispirited brother, Jaimie:

Maybe after I’m dead, I’ll march down to King’s Landing and rip her apart.

Yes, Tyrion. Maybe you will. And maybe so will a whole lot of other previously-alive-but-not-exactly-dead characters. That’s the big flaw in the battle plan–the more soldiers you lose, the more wights they have, the quicker the battle ends very poorly for the living.

Before there’s the inevitable un-death, there’s the Game Of Thrones Reunion Special starring fan favorite pairings like Sir Jaimie and Lady Brienne. Perhaps it’s the general sense of impending doom, but it seems like these two have finally realized that the love is real. When Sir Jaimie knights Lady, er, Sir Brienne, at the world’s last and most dismal slumber party…I know we were all hoping for a kiss. But, the knowing eye contact was truly twice as sweet. Except…someone should probably tell Big Red that Big Blonde is pretty much taken. Or at least extremely smitten.

Speaking of sweet pairings, the only two black people in Winterfell are already planning a post-war skeedaddle because Winterfell is looking about as white as a Canadian hockey game. I hope these two lovebirds make it back to sunshine and palm trees, but if I’ve learned anything from horror movies, they’re beyond doomed.

Arya and The Hound have always been a great team, but…ew. What isn’t ew, however, is the new hot little power couple Arya and Gendry! With only hours to go before the Battle Royale, Arya spends her final moments with the handsome blacksmith…who lets her know that he’s really a Baratheon. When Arya questions how many women Gendry has been with, I can’t tell if she’s jealous, or trying to find out if there are potential seedlings with proper claims to the Iron Throne. Aaaaaaand robes drop, torchlights flicker, love is made, and I think we may be looking at the future King and Queen of The Seven Kingdoms! Seriously, forget my prior predictions, my new best guess is that these two make it out alive.

There are also a few minor pairings that were never meant to be:

• Samwell Tarly and his family sword are soon parted since Sam isn’t even strong enough to hold valyrian steel upright. Without a sword to protect his family, I’m guessing his time in the crypt will be shorter than Ned Stark’s time in King’s Landing.
• Telling Tyrion Lannister “we’re out of wine” is ill advised because there is nothing that separates that man from his tipsy goblet.
• Now that they’ve been outed as Much Too Squickily Related, Daenerys Targaryen and Aegon “Jon Snow” Targaryen are no longer chasing waterfalls. In fact, I’m more than a little worried for Jon Snow’s wellbeing since Dany notes that, “If it were true, it’d make you the last male heir to House Targaryen. You’d have a claim to the Iron Throne.” And we all know she can’t have a male heir make it out of this battle alive.

The zombies are finally here! Yay! That means next week, our friends from The Seven Kingdoms start dropping faster than you can say Mance Rayder. But don’t worry! They’ll soon start reanimating so that they can kill even more of our friends, until all that’s left are…I don’t know…that’s the big question, isn’t it?

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Well hello there, and welcome back to my television-adjacent brain dribblings! Because the world is just one big water cooler, I don’t want to discuss last night’s episode of Game Of Thrones. What? Huh? No. Instead, I want to discuss my predictions for the rest of this last and final season. Ready, go! 

1. Bran Stark (GoT) is Carl Grimes (TWD), so the two will meet the same fate. Yes, they’re two different actors on two different shows. And no, Bran has never worn a stupid hat (which in itself is stupid because he’s outdoors a lot and Winterfell looks absolutely frigid). But that creepy thousand yard stare they both do, and their shared ability to suck the life out of an otherwise serviceable scene? Samesies. So it makes perfect sense that Bran suffer the same fate as Carl—a fatal wound North of The Wall, causing a loved one to burn him alive in order to avoid Zombie Bran weirding us all out for yet another episode.

2. All other claims to the throne will die except Arya, Sansa, and Tyrion. One caveat—this does not include Yara Greyjoy, who smartly skedaddled off to an island that can’t be reached by the White Walkers, as all sensible people should do. Anyway, with Arya off on an adventure to kill the Night King using her spiffy new dragon glass weapon (or as she calls it, Tuesday…more on that below), that leaves Sansa and Tyrion to rule the Iron Throne as husband and wife. Which they kind of already are, but technically not, but the details will just have to work themselves out. These two are all about practicality, and if a loveless marriage between a Stark and a Lannister that would bring stability to a chaotic world and, yeah, massive amounts of power for the miserable couple, that’s a bargain Sansa and Tyrion would gladly enter into. At least until one of them tried to kill the other in an as-of-yet-unannounced sequel Game of Thrones: Marriage Edition, but that’s a show for another day.

3. Daenerys Targaryen will kill Jon Snow. Little Miss “Bend The Knee” is going to get her non-existent panties in a bunch when she learns that her boyfriend has a better claim to The Throne than his Auntie Dany. Which is why she’ll kill him. And Sam Tarly, because he knows too much. And also because she already killed the rest of the Tarlys, so what’s one more? But enough of this love story, let’s get back to the zombie apocalypse.

4. As I mentioned above, Arya kills the Night King. And what does Arya do when she kills super bad villains? She takes their face so that she can kill even more super bad villains. And, ultimately, that’s what wins the war—Arya wearing the Night King’s face, killing the zombie dragon and the rest of the White Walkers, and she’ll get zero credit for it because she’s just a kid. I’m totally unclear on the math in all of this because shouldn’t all of the White Walkers die once the Night King is slain? But trust me, it’s an epic battle scene that all works out nicely in my head.

5. Bran cuts off Jamie’s other arm as even-steven for his two useless legs. I mean, why not? Is there better poetic justice for a legless Bran than watching a handsome, gallant swordsman unable to grab his sword(s)?

So. What’s the over-under on any of these? Doesn’t matter. With one episode down, none of us has even a tiny inkling of how this show is going to wrap up. And for a show about zombies set in a glorified, fantastical version of the Middle Ages where anything is possible, it’s entirely possible that all of my predictions will come true once we snow-crunch our way through the season. Also, they really should’ve had Tyrion Lannister stand in the front row for that Season 8 cast photo….

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The show is not bananas, it’s not maj, it’s not even kind of good. Nobody died, there wasn’t a single gif-worthy eyeroll, and Rodger wasn’t even on camera long enough for me to mock. Instead, we got perhaps the most boring half hour of television since the WPIX Yule Log.

But whatever. Fashionably Late With Rachel Zoe is over, just like its host.

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This week begins with a visit to Marissa’s moderate home so that she and Caroline can drone on and on about Thanksgiving. The ladies flop down in bed, perform the ritualistic Removal Of The Boots, and reminisce about a Thanksgiving dinner that, thankfully, landed on the cutting room floor.

Meanwhile, Annabelle, Marissa, and Julie navigate a gallery opening littered with bear traps. Julie is thrilled that anyone wants to take her photo, oblivious that the photographers are only snapping her shot in the hopes that Annabelle will wander into the frame. I guess cast-off attention is better than no attention in the reality television world….

Oh jeez, it’s Caroline and Caroline. How am I supposed to recap this crap? Buttery Blonde Caroline and Slightly Brassier Caroline? Oh wait—the newer Caroline is a Baroness! So it’s Caroline and Baroness Von Caroline of the Haughty Taughty Carolines. “I come from a really important, old, aristocratic Danish family.” Well, at least she’s modest.

Baroness Caroline is having a fahncy pahtay and Julie wrangles herself an invitation, plus one. She’s bringing Juliet as her date, and OMG! What to wear? WHAT TO WEAR?! They borrow two of Annabelle’s red McQueen dresses because who doesn’t have spare red couture lying around the house? The party is done to the nines and, I have to say, Baroness Caroline’s dress is stunning. She manages to pull off effortless elegance, barefoot because why not, and is quickly turning into my favorite Lady. Until she speaks. “My parents, my grandparents, my great parents, have been renowned for throwing the most incredible dinner pahtays.” Just, ugh.

Hahaha, Baroness Caroline serves Cheetos to the ‘muricans. Okay, she’s my favorite again.

It’s goose for dinner, but Juliet doesn’t eat goose. It’s like Fopperton Estates all over again with this one. Baroness Caroline dives right in and gnaws on a goose wing with her bare, ladylike hands, hawking up what is either a chortle or a hairball for good measure. And for dessert, fruit. But much like Juliet and the Goose (not a bad name for a children’s book), Caroline doesn’t eat fruit. It’s all due to a terrible boarding school incident that was traumatic enough to remove an entire food group from Caroline’s pyramid. But Baroness Caroline is having none of it and force feeds Caroline an orange glob because that’s what friends do, right? Then, before the last citrus has been swallowed, Baroness Caroline kicks everyone out of her home. Did I mention that I really, really like this Lady?

The next drama surrounds a holiday party at Royal Albert Hall. Marissa doesn’t invite Juliet to the Christmas Carol Sing-Along which I thought was something that didn’t require an invitation from Marissa so much as a donation to the appropriate charity, but what do I know, I still eat my goose with a knife and fork. Ooh, Annabelle calls Marissa “upper aspirational middle class” for hosting the party. Zing!

So what does Juliet do while everyone of any import is at Royal Albert Hall? She meets her husband for a drink outside, in the winter. It’s as sad as it sounds, and later that evening or week or month, Juliet has a drink with Marissa which is even sadder. Juliet, honey. Just stop trying so hard. You do you, but quietly in the corner.

Next week, “Did you just straddle my husband?” “We both did, dahling.”

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Racist old lady galumphs around stage, butter ensues.

“Hey y’all, I’m Paula Deen and I’m probably most know for cooking.” Or, being a virulent racist. And is she wearing a dress from the Blake Lively “Allure Of Antebellum” Collection? “I had on white underwear when I started but it probably ain’t white no more.” Oh, Paula. You’re just so disgusting. And ABC isn’t much better for letting her hoof around the television. Anything for ratings, y’all!

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Welcome to the second season of House Of DVF, where fashion icon and walking wrap dress Diane Von Furstenberg conducts the most elaborate job interview ever to find its new brand ambassador. Basically, the job candidates have to work for DVF until all but one drop. But…what are they gonna do with the old brand ambassador, Brittany Hampton? I guess just toss her on the heaping pile of former somethingorothers because she’s about to be replaced. But before that happens, she is contractually obligated to help select her upgrade, with a smile and a smize. Wait, no, wrong show. Anyway, to the reaping!

The interviews begin where all good things should, in New York. Diane and Brittany are assisted in the arduous task of selecting the next brand ambassador by two executive-ish assistants, Brunette and Redhead. Brunette interviews potential candidates in her office, whereas Redheaded conducts her interviews at…a bar? Sure, why not.

Brunette and Redhead run their picks past Diane via iPad. One of the candidates, Cat, has the balls to say that the cool kids aren’t wearing DVF, which, truth. This earns her a for realsies interview along with Chantal, who is no more interesting than a tub of low fat yogurt. There’s also Jeremy who styled someone important with nothing but a ring, and Maytee, who lost a hundred pounds to be there because heaven forbid anyone in the fashion industry weight as much as a normal human.

Aaaand Chantal vomits. Diane is not impressed.

The candidates’ first task is to take photos of something inspiring behind the scenes at a fashion show with nothing but their wits and an iPad. So, pretty much just an iPad. And if there’s anything more annoying than having your photo taken while you are working, it’s having your photo taken with a giant freaking iPad.

Cat Balls Out walks up to Anna Wintour in the front row and asks her an incomprehensible question for DVF dot com. Ms. Wintour looks frightened and alone, and I’m pretty sure someone is getting fired for allowing this to happen.

After the runway show, the four candidates show Diane their photos so that she can see the fashion show through their eyes. Cat kisses up with a photo of Diane, and she falls for it hard. Maytee hands over two unremarkable photos, but Diane likes her “joie de vivre.” Chantal tries to make up for vomiting with some action shots of the models feeling all the feels. Not bad, Chantal. Jeremy took close-ups of pants suits and it’s pretty awful. Diane does not feel that he captured the mood of the show. She hands him a gift bag and shoves him out the door.

With three candidates from the East Coast locked in, it’s time to sift through the peons on the West Coast. Brittnay asks one of the candidates how having a child affects her work life which I’m pretty sure would be a massive HR violation if this were a real job interview. Brunette and Redhead join forces to interview a lot of dingbats, including someone who calls outfits wowfits. A candidate gets bonus points for showing up in a wrap dress which, duh. Then, “My name is Allie, and I was actually born in an alley.” Oh FFS.

Diane invites her family, employees, and Christian Louboutin over for a slumber party to choose the final candidates, who all seem to have a modeling portfolio for a job that does not involve modeling. The group culls the herd to four annoying people plus one nice girl named Leah. There’s Hannah in a very fuzzy outfit, psychic/psycho Cree, Allie From The Valley (in head-to-toe bubblegum pink), and Breagan The Single Mom.

The five candidates are tasked with styling Rachel Zoe from whatever shmatas they can find in a DVF store, and somehow Allie sweats all over a dress before Rachel even arrives. Cree takes charge of the situation and welcomes Rachel to her humble home as each candidate explains why they chose their look. “I…love you in a gold moment?” Rachel Zoe has thoughts. She would not wear a jumpsuit to Vanity Fair. Cree’s above-the-knee dress is a no-no because Rachel does not show her knees, ever. Which makes me wonder if she’s smuggling two elderly men who are angry about their pudding underneath all of those maxi dresses. Hannah’s black sequined maxi dress with a plunging neckline is the clear winner. “That’s a moment…that’s a real moment.”

With four spots for five people, someone has to go home. Hannah stays because she won the styling challenge. Nice Leah gets to stay because she exhibited enthusiasm despite making no sense with her words. Cree was a clunker on her dress selection, but saved herself by leading the discussion when Rachel Zoe entered the room.

So, between Single Mom and Barbie’s Dreamhouse, Diane eliminates Single Mom because “first of all, never mention your child and sacrifice….” Sigh. Thanks, Diane Von Furstenberg, for setting such a lousy example for women everywhere. Single Mom already made the hard decision to leave her kid in what I assume are capable hands while she furthers her career and doesn’t need you second-guessing her parenting skills. I have heard that it’s entirely possible to raise a kid and work at the same time, but I guess that’s not an option at DVF.

Next week, the nine contestants will begin battling each other to the death for the opportunity to secure a job with a starting salary that couldn’t even buy you a Birkin Bag.

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Our Ladies Of London are back, and have there always been two Carolines? Plus there’s a Juliet and a Julie?! One of the “blondes” needs to change her hairstyle because I cannot tell these ladies apart. Sigh. Stiff upper lip etc.  

We’re off to a great start as Caroline barks orders at her many employees, completely disobeying the blinking pink neon sign above her desk imploring her to “Be Nice!!” After instilling fear in everyone who relies on her for a paycheck, Caroline is driven to Juliet’s house, and possibly to drink. The trip is exhausting, and she cannot believe she has to go “south of the river.” I guess it’s like having to visit someone in New Jersey which I might totally understand except she has a chauffeur so OMG shut up!

Juliet’s house in Clapham is pretty lousy looking. Her life doesn’t sound much better. Her husband had to move anywhere other than near Juliet five days per week because, seriously, who could put up with Juliet on the regular? But, there’s a bright side. Juliet tells us that it’s a five million dollar house even though it looks like a hole-in-the-wall. No, really. There’s a hole in the wall.

But that was just the first of too many road trips this season. Over in a totally other car, Julie and Annabelle are on their way to Fopperton Estates. Julie explains that in England, estates go to the first-born son, which is her husband, Luke. And that’s a really, really big responsibility. Like it or not (and I think he likes it a lot), Luke must live on Fopperton Estates many days a week. Are you sensing a theme here? Yeah. Nobody wants to be around these ladies.

Flash forward to a totally other day and Marissa is explaining Thanksgiving to Annabelle on a street corner like a commoner. Then, Julie rolls up on a bicycle, completely astounding Marissa and Annabelle who have never seen a countess in sweaty spandex before….I guess they don’t watch the Real Housewives of New York? It’s off to shop for Thanksgiving food in the canned goods aisle just as Caroline and Juliet arrive because it takes five ladies to buy one turkey. Marissa offers up her restaurant for the meal, but Juliet doesn’t want to have Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. Meanwhile, Caroline thinks this whole thing reeks of social climbing desperation which is lulz because Annabelle is leaning against a shelf of Pepperidge Farm^® Goldfish^®.

Back at home, Caroline manages her personal assistant and the other non-personal assistant and the backup assistant and the nanny and the housekeepers. Whew! I’m exhausted just thinking about having to manage so many people. And all at once, too! Juliet arrives to rehash The War On Thanksgiving. To shut her up, Caroline volunteers her own home for the stupid Thanksgiving dinner. But wait! Caroline has a cocktail party the night before! But it doesn’t matter because Caroline’s staff can just work harder.

But who’s going to break the news to Marissa? Oh right, Juliet. Tradition, words, home, tradition, love, more words, in a home, rush to leave, unbuckling the top button, blah blah blah it’s also Juliet’s birthday….and so Juliet is having Thanksgiving dinner at Caroline’s house. Marissa rants about a turkey birthday cake which sounds disgusting and I’m waiting for one of them to shout, “Hold my earrings!” But no, it’s more passive-aggressive than aggressive-aggressive.

That is, until Caroline’s cocktail party. Marissa arrives with turkey hats for everyone, which nobody wants ever. Go give your tacky turkey hats to someone who cares, Marissa. Like Martha Stewart. Juliet rolls in a bit more than fashionably late. She is underdressed in the way that a frumpy person looks when she puts on her very best outfit. Marissa takes Juliet aside to call her out on her party pooping. Juliet didn’t want to hang out with Marissa’s friends on her big Thanksgiving birthday, and now Marissa is the idiot who threw a birthday party for a person who couldn’t even bother to show up. Bicker bicker, blah blah blah, and this is all happening in the middle of Caroline’s cocktail party. And you know what’s the most annoying thing? Besides Juliet, of course. It’s nowhere near Thanksgiving but now I really want turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce. Thanks a lot, ladies.

Next week, Caroline makes a homely lady choose people to fire, and one of the ladies eats chicken wings at a fancy party.

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