Did the Fair Queen waltz into our lives before she was actually asked to do so on Dancing With The Stars? The answer is an emphatic yes!–and she did so in a flurry of fuschias-to-rose-petal pinks, all with Giggy, the follically challenged pomeranian sex monster, pretty much always in tow. Is hers not the diamond life we all tune in to expect from a fabled and faraway, palm-tree-lined alternate Realm known as Beverly Hills, duhhlings?
“Shee, shee, shee”–as Kevin Lee, one now famed jester so aptly described by coining the phrase that sticks most in our collective when we think of just such fabled and faraway Kingdom. As in all fabled and faraway Realms, there must dwell a Princess, or Queen Bee and her name is Lisa Vanderpump, though most of us may know her best by the more fitting monicker of Vanderfabulous–because she is–much to the dismay of all her castmates.
Hailing from the even further-away Island Kingdoms, Lisa Vanderfabulous speaks with both accent and eloquence extolling her innate charm and wit, that, sadly, fall flat on the dense ears of her ugly stepsisters who are also known as her utterly humorless cast members. Amongst them is one called Hairflipper, another is known as The Avowed Wicked Wiccan, then there are The Bogo Most-Wretched Fraternal Sisters, a fifth is The Filth-Spewing Siren moonlighting as a the Realm’s Lush and then there’s The Penultimate Wanna-Be-Queen-Bee Of The Foggiest Petrified Forest Of Lymeland. The latter is a doozy and a personal disappointment, becuse I too, have dwelt in Lymeland, at times utterly unbeknownst to me and in circumstances far beyond my control–while not once opting for mouth-frothing and blaming it all on The Morally Corruptive Fayes that dwell in just such shady woods.
While there is much botoxing, hair-flipping, bling-dangling, shade-casting, one-upping, couldron-stirring, spell-casting, apple-poisoning, envy-frothing, mud-slinging, bad-acting, teeth-gnashing, smallest-violin-fiddling, white-trash-banjoing-shee-shee-sheeing and such, in this Realm it’s all for naught, while it’s all about not ever wanting to be mistakenly presumed to hail from the Lesser Dominions Of Calabasas and not wanting to cop to rumors of stuffing the Realm’s tabloids into a carpet bag. Yikes squared! Our Fair Queen is not only accused of all of the above, but she is systematically ambushed and besieged by all the stepsisters on Isla Perdida where our usually poised Queen is brought to tears–but not dethroned, because that is a fate that is ultimately and solely determined by her fervently loyal subjects out there in Fandomland.
The Royal saga continues-to-continue, much to the chagrin or puzzlement of the stepsisters– since none can tell such difference–with one or preferably four of them perched on the sharp edge of an ax, never to be seen again, if true wishes–or punishment for failed mutiny–are to be fairly granted in such fabled TV Realms.