As I sit in my house in New York and the snow piles down from the sky in scary heaps, I find myself doing two things:  praying with all my might that I won’t lose power and contemplating what kinds of preparation the cast of Vanderpump Rules would make in the face of a storm.

I’m imagining that Jax, upon hearing that he might have to be shut in for a few days, would hire both a prostitute and a tattoo artist – so that if he falls in pretend love with the girl he’s hired to go down on him, he can record her name on his body for posterity.  (I think the pinky toe on his left foot is still unmarked skin that the new chick’s name can be inked on forevermore.)  I’m also going to take a mental leap and guess that he’ll have some alcohol on hand too because the thought of facing who is really is while sober has to be more of a nightmare than it would be for me that my cable could go out.

Sandoval, having no idea that the relentless storm is nothing in relation to what he’ll have to deal with later on tonight, would probably get himself ready by making sure his knit beanies are within reach, that he has several boxes of Kleenex to dry the tears that leak out of his eyes with almost-alarming regularity, and hopefully he’ll put 911 on speed dial, because ice slamming down from the sky will not be enough to keep his ex-girlfriend away.

And speaking of Kristen, snow or no snow, it’ll just be a typical night for her.  She’ll have her infrared goggles all ready to go so she can see through the snow and into Sandoval’s windows and she will take moments here and there to maniacally smoke cigarette after cigarette, all the while mumbling words of psychotic wisdom like, “It’s karma,” and “If Ariana were out of the picture, Tom and I could be together.”  Then she would kidnap a fluffy puppy named Scooter and tell a random little girl that the Tooth Fairy fucking hates her and then, exhausted from her good deeds, she’ll curl up in her cauldron to rest her slit-shaped eyes.

Vail, I hope, would hole up with the DVDs of the first few seasons of the show she’s now a cast member on so that she will be able to definitely arrive at the conclusion that Jax is a walking ball oozing sleaze.

Scheana would probably make sure she has bottles of water, an extra pair of lashes should the wetness of the snow fuck with the eyelash adhesive that’s a permanent feature of her face, and she’d blast her new song, which will be guaranteed to scare off potential looters.

Stassi, who wasn’t on the show at all tonight, would gather paints and brushes and all kinds of canvases so she can use the hours of the blizzard creating an abstract masterpiece that is a collage of the heads of those who have betrayed her, upon which she will hang a sparkly statement necklace.

Lisa Vanderpump, upon hearing bad weather was imminent, would jet off to St. Bart’s and leave this bullshit behind.

But all of my cold weather realities are simply fantasies in the minds of the Sur servers who spend their days frolicking in the sun – and their nights fleeing from those they are contractually tied to for as long as Bravo continues to renew this show.

There was no real preamble tonight.  The show started with a bang – or with the girl Sandoval might have banged.  Yes, into a restaurant walked Annemarie, and just in case viewers last week were busy reading Proust while the show was on and got momentarily distracted, helpfully printed underneath her name is “Miami Girl,” which is now what I want to be next Halloween.  She’s there to meet up with Kristen, who takes one gander at the girl in front of her and tells the camera that Annemarie is exactly the kind of girl Sandoval would sleep with.

“She’s in her mid-twenties with too much Botox,” says the insane person in her mid-thirties who doesn’t ingest nearly enough lithium.

Kristen asks Annemarie to walk her through what happened with Sandoval all those many months ago in Miami where the alleged philandering took place, and as I watched Miami Girl explain the deep intimacy that formed during her maybe-one-night-stand, all I could think was this:  you’d have to first drug me and then drag me and then probably shoot me to get me to sit across a table from a girl who recently might have slept with a man I still loved.  And even then, I’d probably limp or crawl away from that scenario because to not attempt to avoid that kind of emotional pain is nuts.  At first, as Miami Girl tells her that Sandoval held her hand, Kristen looks like she is being stabbed and begins slugging back drinks like I did when I was pledging a sorority when I was seventeen.  But then the trajectory of the tale takes a beautiful detour and Kristen listens and tears up as the stranger in front of her tells her that Sandoval is still in love with her and all of the hopes and dreams for the happy future Kristen has convinced herself that she and Sandoval could have – you know, if Ariana would just die already – become more vivid as the girl from Miami who craves camera time imparts the insight that Kristen is indeed Sandoval’s future.

It would be silly of any of us to think that this is merely a meeting of two half minds, though.  No, this get together is about formulating a plan for Annemarie to waltz into Sur while Sandoval is working behind the bar and confront him about lying and saying he never slept with her.  What’s the point of all of this conniving between two morons?  Well, Kristen wants to expose the fact that Sandoval’s relationship with Ariana is built on lies and Miami Girl feels betrayed that he lied about nailing her.

Boys and girls of this land, please listen to me:  if you choose to have a one-night stand with a stranger, feeling betrayed is not part of the package.  If you can’t handle what the experience is all about, choose to have a different one.  And just so we’re clear, I might not be a one-night stand kind of girl, but I don’t begrudge those who are.  But you’ve got to know the rules before you play the game, and post-sex confrontation is not part of it. 

I could write eighteen pages on the sickness that is fueling Kristen and how her motivations and her actions will lead her to one day residing in a padded room, but I kind of don’t have it in me anymore.  Plus, I have to pace myself because I still need to recount the moment when she told her manager to “go suck a dick.”

But before we can get to metaphorical dick-sucking, we are briefly taken to Tom Schwartz’s modeling shoot and I am reminded once again that Schwartz is maybe the cutest boy in the whole wide world and, if I had my very own Schwartz doll, I would dress him in adorable little outfits and never leave my house.  I would put the glasses he wore later in the episode on my Schwartz doll and I would toss Carlin Ozzy, my beloved Cabbage Patch Kid, out the freaking window and I would build a Barbie’s Dream House where I’d allow my mini Schwartz to recline in the pink plastic Jacuzzi until his plastic fingers turn to prunes.

Other than contemplating how I could contact Mattel and ask them to ditch the Ken doll in favor of a Schwartz figure in time for the next holiday season, the scene at the shoot with him and Katie wasn’t all that exciting, though we did get to hear Katie talk about hoping her friendship with Stassi wasn’t over for good.  As this show goes on, I find myself liking Katie more and more.  I think she’s kind of normal, and that means that she doesn’t want a friendship to dissipate over hurt feelings – and it might also mean that she won’t have her contract renewed for next season, because the common denominator amongst the cast of Vanderpump Rules is not mental lucidity.

The crux (and the crust) of this episode – the confrontation at the bar orchestrated by Miami Girl and Kristen, her deranged cheerleader – is almost upon us, but first we go off to a bar with Jax and Schwartz and we learn that Jax and Carmen are back together, which should surprise nobody but should sicken everybody.  Jax plans to take her out and buy her a dress for Scheana’s wedding like she’s sweet hooker who has a heart of gold and no gag reflex and then he imparts to the viewer some deep words of perception:  “Girls are weak,” says this piece of sweaty dogshit.  “Girls can be broken.”

How likely is it that I could hire a hitman during a blizzard?

Later that night the evening shift begins at Sur. Walking in, hand in hand, are Sandoval and Ariana, both blissfully ignorant to the fact that Kristen has orchestrated an ambush, which the darkest portions of her blackened mind believe will finally split this happy couple up for good.  Do you think Kristen would miss the emotional carnage?  Please!  She’s got herself a ringside seat, showing up to Sur on her day off in an unfortunate printed dress to watch Sandoval’s lies (that don’t involve her) exposed.  She has a nice fruity cocktail all ready to go. She’s ready, and looking at the excitement on her face from the pain she’s about to inflict, you’d think it was Christmas morning on the year she got to unwrap a pony.

In walks Miami Girl, toddling on very high wedges, and she brazenly saunters up to the bar.  Sandoval, upon looking up and seeing a grotesque nightmare he once had come to life, says hello to her – and then walks away from the bar and out the back door of Sur, where he promptly calls Ariana.  The two of them meet on the street and hop into an Uber (I’d like to take a moment here to herald the startups that have found success) and they drive far away from a world that once seemed level and sane, a world thrown off-balance by his psychotic ex-girlfriend and the Miami woman, whom he appears to be terrified of.  

Before Ariana can get into the back of the car on the street, Kristen, Kristen’s friend (such a shocking thing to type – how does this girl have a friend?), and Miami Girl also go outside.  Kristen is laughing as Sandoval escapes, chortling with the kind of laughter I think a professional would read as disturbing, while Miami Girl calls after Ariana, hoping she’ll stop and listen to her brand of truth, and in the next moment she is chasing after a girl she doesn’t even know in an effort to needlessly destroy her.

Let’s hear it for Sisterhood!

As far as Kristen is concerned, the plan has begun to work perfectly.  Obviously Sandoval left because he knew he was caught and clearly Ariana was beginning to realize that her boyfriend was a terrible cheater, and even though Kristen created a terrifying moment for him that could lead to him losing a girl he loves, there was no doubt he would lean on her for support.

Before she could figure out which plunging dress to wear for their anniversary celebration, Scheana, who was working inside, caught wind of what took place outside and came to confront Kristen.  Scheana earned from me my only points of the night when she refused to shake Miami Girl’s hand out of loyalty to her best friend – but don’t get excited; Scheana will lose those points later – and then asked Kristen how she could have engaged in such a plan and told her that she has been on Kristen’s side, and here she goes and tries to destroy her bridesmaid’s happiness?

As Scheana and Kristen scream at one another – the only thing you have to know is that Kristen’s entire rationalization is that she is innocent and it’s Sandoval’s fault for lying months and months ago – the manager of Sur comes outside to stop the shrieking because it’s not pairing nicely with the goat cheese balls and the rose being served inside.  The manager implores the girls to stop fighting, and Kristen, showing her utter class, screams back at her manager and adds the very intelligent, “Go suck a dick,” as a final verbal scorcher to a person in authority.

At some point, all of the craziness starts to dissipate, and into the rubble of the fallout walks Lisa Vanderpump and her husband Ken.  Before the woman can get in the door, the manager, who had previously been instructed to go suck a dick, asked to speak to Lisa and told the Queen all that had transpired.  

First to grovel was Scheana, who did everything right in this scenario.  She was calm, she apologized immediately, she said such an outburst would never happen again, and she walked back inside to finish working.  And as I thought the words “Scheana is smart” in my head, I’m pretty sure that I heard the diplomas on the wall of my office upstairs speak in hushed whispers about how to kill me.

Upon hearing Sandoval and Ariana had left their shifts in the midst of the confrontation, Lisa called Sandoval, who said they were both on their way back to work.  Lisa was stunned anyone would leave work during a busy night, no matter what the circumstances, and said this to make her point:  “I don’t care if your mistress’ ex-wife’s husband’s mother’s father’s son’s lover walks in – you don’t leave work!”  And her eloquence is why I shall always hail Lisa Vanderpump.

Lisa knows she will soon have to deal with Kristen, and here one of those issues about reality television pops up loud and clear.  There’s no way in hell that Lisa would not fire Kristen for this ridiculous and terrifying infraction, but she really can’t yet since Kristen is on this show, one that Lisa produces, and it’s partially her delusions that help bring in ratings.  It’s a conundrum, and she will deal with Kristen later.

Before Sandoval agrees to come back to the scene of oh so many crimes, he asks Lisa if they’re gone, all those girls who love him so much that they have to destroy him.

“They’re all gone,” Lisa assures him – and I have to wonder if none of these people have ever seen a horror movie, because SHE’S NEVER GONE!

And gone she’s not, because back into the bar walks Miami Girl and she goes right up to Sandoval and he kind of simply asks her what she wants out of this strange confrontation.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the girl throws back.  “We had sex!”

“No we didn’t,” snaps Sandoval.

“Yes, we did,” Miami Girl rages back.

Into the fray comes Ariana, calm as a fucking cucumber, and she tells the girl who is screaming about having sex with her boyfriend that it’s time for her to go.  She doesn’t raise her voice and she laughs in the girl’s face as her boyfriend’s four-inch shaved dick is discussed, and finally she gets the Sur security to escort the girl away, where upon Sandoval and Ariana get back to work.

Do I think that Sandoval slept with that Miami girl?  Yeah – I do.  And I think he regrets it and probably regretted it the moment it was over, when his allegedly four-inch penis completed the job, and maybe sometimes a one-night stand doesn’t matter all that much.  But even if it does, I think the retaliation was utterly ridiculous and nonsensical and probably would not have transpired if there hadn’t been a camera crew around.  When the girl walked back into Sur to confront Sandoval, we could hear every word she said, and that means she was wearing a microphone pack provided by production.

The next day, Jax and Carmen meet James and Kristen for lunch, which I have to believe has been written on a call sheet somewhere and mandated as a scene to be filmed because I can’t imagine any other reason why this foursome should exist in a setting where their collective presence has to be violating some Board of Health code.  But sit together they do, and they discuss how Sandoval ran away from the stalker from Miami, and the look of pure joy on Kristen’s face was chilling.  

“What do you want to get out of all of this?” asked Jax.

“I don’t want to be called a liar anymore,” says the girl most people try not to speak to unless there are witnesses.

I’m sure there was far more Kristen did and said at lunch that should haunt me for all of eternity, but it was hard to concentrate since her baby boyfriend was wearing a hat that took the bulls*t beanie to a whole new level.  This beanie was not fitted.  This beanie was floppy and set back upon James’ head like he was Rumpelstiltskin or some other storybook character in a tale where he had to use his pointed floppy hat to slay the dragon he’s chosen to align himself with.  

All of it:  horrifying.

All of it:  hilarious.

As this was a packed-with-action episode, we also went into the studio where Scheana recorded her new song.  The song is bad, okay?  But nothing is worse than watching James and Shay, Scheana’s fiancé, two uncoordinated guys with no style, dance around the studio to the track that could very well be the theme song for the apocalypse.

But once the vocal track has been recorded, Scheana loses all the respect she earned earlier by standing up for Ariana when she tells Kristen that she does love her and that Kristen can come to her wedding.  The only way I would let that girl into my wedding was if I stuffed her and hung her over the mantle where I said my vows, because if you work overtime to try to destroy my best friend, I will pummel you for sport.

Next week, Lisa confronts Kristen – again – and Schwartz reveals he might not have always been honest with Katie, which means that I’m going to need to dress my Schwartz doll in an outfit he can grovel in comfortably.  

I wonder if I can borrow James’ hat…