I Want to be a Hilton: Paris Hilton and Her Nice Long Hummer
Before anyone else could wallow too much, the teams were whisked away in a helicopter out to the Hamptons on Long Island. I was going to goof on Latricia for not knowing what the Hamptons were, but she’s from California and besides, something told me she’d be committing other stupidities later on much more deserving of my wrath. Once on the Island, the rubes marveled at the mansions and made their way to a polo match. If reality TV has taught us anything, it’s that the rich do so enjoy their polo. I believe this marks the 64th time a show has used this setting to make us mere football and basketball fans to feel worthless. Man…we suck. Sigh.
Just as I was feeling poor and uneducated, I was jolted from my self-pity. Polo ain’t all that special! There, in the crowd, why… it’s… it’s The Diamond himself, Daaa-aaaaa-aaaa-aaaa-vid Leeeee-eee-eeee Roooooth! Hiiiiii-ii-yaaaa! (Take that, “Jackaay.”) That’s right, apparently the top two celebs enjoying the polo match that day were Russell Simmons (or, Russthel Thimmonsth as I like to call him) and five time Van Halen lead singer, David Lee Roth. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but yes, horses are capable of looking embarrassed.
I Want To Be a Gigolo Too
The afternoon of polo was as boring as you’d imagine. The southern boys resorted to gathering around piles of horsecrap and kicking it at each other. That’s right, in a televised contest measuring civility, glamour, and etiquette, some of the boys decided that this was an acceptable activity. These guys are wacky!
Just a couple of guys, kicking the shit
After the horse(crap)play, Kathy Hilton gathered the troops to get them excited for the challenge. “My mother died from breast cancer a few years ago and…” Oh, bummer. This week’s challenge would be for each team to run an estate sale and an auction to benefit the Sloan-Kettering Memorial Foundation, to help the less fortunate pay for health care. It’s nice to see a show helping out those in need for once…rather than Gordon Ramsey trashing enough lobster risotto to feed the entire nation of Burundi for a week over on Hell’s Kitchen. The teams, Madison and Park, would have a few minutes to grab as much Hilton swag as possible for their respective sales tents. Each team grabbed a ton of stuff including Kathy’s antique armoire, Nicky’s old purses, Rick’s old golf clubs, signed copies of “A Night in Paris…”
Once time was up, each team assessed their items. Both were pleased with their chances, but Kathy noted Team Madison scored big with a very expensive watch and Paris’ sweet sixteen dress – stains included. Showing the grace he has learned, plumber Johnny stepped forward and presented everyone with an epic crotch chop that would have made X-Pac proud. Take THAT Team Park, with your tiara and umbrellas. Boo YAH! The teams retreated to their respective tents to plan out their strategies. Team Park’s Vanessa immediately took charge but ran into some dissenting opinion from Brenden. She felt that he was taking credit for something she dreamt up and began arguing for no apparent reason, ending the fracas with, “If he wants to play that ass, I can too.” I don’t know what that means either, but Paris hadn’t arrived yet so I knew it wasn’t what I wished it meant. Damn.
Each team firmed up their themes and priced their estate sale items. Jabe (who, if you don’t watch the show, somehow looks like a “Jabe”) was shooting for the moon with his pricing. A knit hat – $500. A set of three empty red silk boxes – $200. A coat rack – $300. Having your daughter accept a load of Rick Soloman’s goo in her face in a widely distributed sex tape? Priceless. Speaking of the lovely and talented Miss Paris, she and her sister Nicky finally arrived via a huge stretch Humvee limousine to pick up the teams for a night out on the town. The show made a valiant effort to avoid the word “Hummer” being associated with Paris by calling it a “Humvee” twice… but as you read in the title, they failed in their attempts at misdirection. We here at Midseasonreplacements strive to give you the blow by blow as best we can. Sorry, I can’t stop!
Before hitting the club scene, each person had to change into some of the Hilton’s clothes they were selling the next day. So instead of just selling “Nicky Hilton’s dress,” now they could add a few bucks with “Nicky Hilton’s dress worn by reality TV star Crazy Ann shown on NBC!” Brilliant. Most everyone enjoyed the free clothing buffet – everyone except poor ol’ Latricia. You see, Latricia is rather big boned. And big armed, legged, stomached, breasted, backed, and necked. It could be said that she’s the first person not able to get into Paris’ pants. (I’ve got a million of ‘em!) Gap-toothed Irish lass Yvette emerged in a sequined Union Jack dress followed by… Ann in a sequined Union Jack dress. Apparently Yvette isn’t too concerned about 500 years of Irish-English tension. For proud Irish Americans, seeing her wearing that dress was like seeing Mr. Rogers in a NAMBLA sweatshirt. At any rate, seeing those two women wearing those matching dresses made me think of two things: Stupid Ass Spice and Crazy Psycho Spice.
Meanwhile, poor ol’ Laticia didn’t change and stated she wouldn’t be joining her team. She was upset that there were no clothes for her to change into, which was only exacerbated by Yvette’s needling. The two got in a heated argument with Latricia standing pat. Just as the limo was about to leave, Kathy Hilton appeared in the tent and tried to convince Latricia to go. Paris and Nicky joined her and they all gave plaintive begging whines. I’m sure having 3 very attractive 100-pound women telling you that you’re not fat and that you look beautiful really does the trick. Almost at the breaking point, Latricia complained about her appearance, saying she was disheveled from the day’s work. “You look hot,” chimed Paris, trying to restart that played-out catchphrase. “Yeah, cause I’m all sweaty,” came the non-ironic reply. That cracked me up.
With Latricia on board, the gang made their way to some club to get their groove on with the Hilton sisters. Of note: The Hiltons can’t dance. David Lee Roth can. The Hiltons like polo. David Lee Roth can’t possibly. Theory: Someone screwed up the casting call. Johnny, the plumber from Queens, was all over the local girls getting numbers, copping feels, and grinding butts, which upset Yvette who had a small crush on the lothario. Oddly, the show then cut to a black and white bit of raw footage (“Cheaters” style) of Johnny and Yvette making out on the couch at their apartment. While deliciously purile, it seemed out of place.
One Night in Yvette
The next day’s combination estate sale/auction brought with it a torrential downpour. This didn’t dampen anyone’s spirits, however, and the day’s activities were about to begin without delay. On Team Park’s side, they had adopted a fairly clever scheme of acting like the Hilton family while selling their goods. Team Madison opted for a “Luau for Life” theme which had them all outfitted with leis. You can guess which team Paris was rooting for. The estate sale progressed smoothly with both teams doing a decent job selling junk to rich people with too much money. Johnny sold a $3000 watch for $900, but then again, this was a glorified garage sale. I’ve sold $15 CD’s for 50 cents and didn’t bat an eyelash, so this wasn’t so awful.
I can’t, however, forgive Johnny for his attempts at auctioneering. The second leg of the day’s festivities was the auction portion and Johnny had been elected as the emcee. Even after getting pointers from the pro, his “Here’s a f*cking chair from Nicky Hilton’s f*cking closet” attempt was pretty piss poor. He claimed that this was just an outgrowth of his “passion” and “excitement” but unfortunately it just came off as cro-magnon. Just before the auction was to start, Team Madison pulled a switcharoo and Ann took the reigns. Ann, the wackadoodle who has erupted into song at inopportune times for no discernable reason, would now be heading the auction. I was sure she’d be perfectly fine. Perfectly fine for me to eviscerate, that is! She immediately began sing/shouting “Happy Birthday” to some random guy right in his face. This chick needs help.
The auction began and Rashad from Team Park did a very good job selling the goods. Ann did a very good job scaring the living shit out of those in attendance. She grabbed the mic and launched into the worst huckster evangelist impression, ever. “Let’s give it up for breast cancer!! Yeeaaaaahh!” She kept screaming banalities as she ran up and down the aisles. Children sought cover in mothers’ bosoms. Husbands pulled wives tight. Asian Americans across the land buried their heads in shame. Jesus Christ, where do these people come from? The last item to be auctioned off was Paris’ sweet sixteen dress. Showing their appreciation for the one of a kind designer dress, Team Madison paraded Yvette out wearing the dress. Smart, real smart. As Laticia noted, “that depreciated the value.” And you know it’s bad when Yvette wearing it is grosser than whatever Paris did in it back on that drunken night of her 16th birthday party.
In the end, Team Park beat Team Madison by about $2800 which caused JW and Brenden to break out in an odd hokey pokey dance celebration followed by an odder jazz hands finger sparkle high five thing. Juxtaposing their joy was the defeat written all over Team Madison’s faces. The reward for Madison was a catered picnic at the beach with some chef named Clown Man. Just thought I’d mention that and if any of you Long Islanders can explain that one, it would be much appreciated. Like The Apprentice of late, I must say the rewards on “Hilton” certainly do suck. But at least no one on Park would be sent home – the same couldn’t be said for Team Madison.
At “The Residence,” Kathy Hilton gathered with Team Madison and began the Boardroom deliberations. After some perfunctory misdirection (Jabe priced too high, Jackaay’s extra ‘a’ got in the way of things, Ann needs to be taken to a mental hospital ASAP), Johnny, Yvette, and Latricia battled it out. Kathy again challenged Yvette on her overt sexuality. Kathy, dear, you seem very sweet and lovely but YOU ARE PARIS HILTON’S MOTHER! How can you tell someone else’s daughter to “be careful about the sexuality?” Kathy then shifted to ask Johnny some hard-hitting questions: “Why did you quit the auctioneer job?” Before he could answer, Yvette interjected his answer for him. Then Latricia gave her version. Um, Johnny? He did stick up for himself and gave some lame excuse. Although from Queens, he sounds uncannily like Boston Rob with that slurring monotone. These three engaged in a sort of reality TV Mexican standoff as Yvette said Latricia was the weakest link, Johnny called out Yvette (*Gasp!* The very girl he made out with!) and Latricia named Johnny. How would Kathy make her decision?!
Somehow she did and emerged with her list of those who would continue. As she announced the names, each person gave Kathy a double cheek air kiss. Ann’s missed by a good two feet and Jabe’s looked as comfortable as, well, a Texas lunk airkissing a socialite billionaire on national TV. It all came down to Yvette and Johnny, with Yvette squeaking by as the one to remain. Upon telling Johnny that he has “a casual way with the ladies,” Johnny replied to Kathy, “thank you.” And I think he really meant that too. As Yvette joined the others who greeted her with a golf clap, Kathy bid Johnny adieu in a very nice, very matronly way. She needs a lesson in reality TV venom, that’s for sure.
Was it obvious they kept Latricia, Yvette, and Ann for manufactured tension, or was Johnny the right one to go home?