By Anne T. Donahue
Last night, the tenth season of Vanderpump Rules premiered, and believe me when I tell you our lives are all the richer for it.
Is it a particularly good show? Not anymore. Do I long to be like or be friends with any cast members? Only each and every one of Lisa’s dogs. Would I betray my own family for a chance to dine at any of the establishments in which this show is set? In a heartbeat. I love Vanderpump Rules with my whole heart, but that will love not continue until I see the following things on the small screen. (Then I will love it with only 4/5 of my heart, which will still guarantee my viewership far into 2123.) Behold:
Everyone tells James that being DJ is fine, but it’s certainly not as cool as he thinks it is
It isn’t. Are there talented producers-slash-DJs who know exactly how to make art of a playlist? Absolutely. But I know in my soul that James Kennedy isn’t one of them. He’s too proud. He’s too excited to talk about DJing. He’s too excited to DJ. Nobody that thinks that highly of themselves or their professional path (he got his start DJing at a restaurant, and honestly: it’s 2023, you and I could be DJs right now and it wouldn’t be terrible) is someone whose work is good or even interesting. I would like the cast to sit James down and ask him what his plan is. What he wants to do. I want them to say “No, James” every time he talks about music. And then I want him to say, “I have no idea who I am” before Binky the Dog sits up and in perfect English says, “We know – we all know.”
James Kennedy is diagnosed as a sociopath
I just think he might be. There’s that vibe, you know? And honestly, he seems like someone who would really revel in that title. “You guys!” he would say, yelling probably, in the face of someone who politely asked him to move out of the way. “I’m a sociopath!” At home, Jax, who is watching the series, will stand up and throw his converter at the television screen: “That was my storyline!” he will erupt. “I’m the main sociopath of the group!”
Randall is confronted and pelted with stale bagels
I don’t condone violence, but Lala’s ex Randall Emmett has been accused of harassment and sexual misconduct and this is in addition to his infidelity (which Lala is still clearly processing), which only adds to his shitty he is. Thus, I would like to see him stood in the middle of the group and pelted with stale bagels until everybody gets bored. Truthfully, I could watch a scene like this for about six days, but for the sake of reality television I would be content with only three full episodes. I’d even let James Kennedy DJ.
A ”very special episode” where the cast begins to unpack what led them to this place
Vanderpump Rules started out as a reality TV show about a bunch of young people who work at a restaurant and for the life of them, cannot get their shit together. It was amazing. It was adventurous. Now, it’s about people in their thirties who are getting divorced (Schwartz and Katie), have children (Scheana and Brock, Lala), and open their own restaurants because they are arguably financially set for life now. It’s fine, but it’s certainly not the same. And just once, I would like one of the crew (Schwartz? Since he seems to be profoundly unhappy in a real way that concerns me) to say in all seriousness, “Where did my life go wrong?” Sandoval would perk up and say, “What, man?” Schwartz would say a little bit louder, “All of us – is that what we saw for ourselves? Is this really where we all wanted to be? How did we wander so far off our path to end up in a place like this?” Raquel would answer, “A place like what?”
Then, knowing that Raquel is a soft, quiet, gentle young girl, Ariana would gently squeeze her hand. “Here, Raquel,” she would say. “Here, among all of us.” After focusing on the lost expressions of its cast, the camera would zoom up to watch the gang silently finish their drinks as they think about the goals they once had and the people they used to be. Schwartz was going to be a doctor, maybe. And now he plays pickleball with Randall.
A normal person accidentally ends up hanging out with everyone
I would just love to see a person with a normal and boring and regular life find themselves stuck on a road trip with everybody. I want to watch them text their real friends, asking in desperation for one of them to please pick them up. I want them to suggest maybe they all just go to the movies – that maybe a quiet night wouldn’t be so bad. I also want that person to be me. And I want to ask, “Are you okay?” to everybody at least once, preferably after they say something completely normal (for them) and yet completely alarming (to me).
No more theme parties
I say this as somebody who hates theme parties in real life. Do you know how lazy I am? Do you know how little I want to think of a costume and then execute it? I don’t care to pretend to be another person because I am so tired that even putting on a regular party outfit is something I have to mentally prepare for over the course of at least eight days. Frankly, the only thing worse than a theme party is watching a group of seven people throw their own theme party (with no other people?) and pretend this is something fun and novel while in reality, it would be hell on earth. These are human beings. Human beings who have had to dress up as like, angels or robbers or James Bond characters only to sit around and get drunk in front of cameras. Imagine! For the sake of us all, I ask that this trend ends now. Also, that if you’re personally throwing a theme party, you do not invite me. I will show up in my regular clothes and tell everyone that I am a stranger who wandered in off the street, please point me in the direction of the shrimp ring.
Sandoval and Ariana adopt Schwartz
It makes the most sense. This would make for a complete and beautiful family. I also want to think of how angry Sandoval would get if Schwartz didn’t like what they were having for dinner. “Damn it, Tom!” Sandoval would cry, standing up abruptly from the table, perhaps throwing his own dinner on the floor. Schwartz would start to cry, but in that way toddlers do where they’re not actually crying, they’re just making the sounds because they don’t feel like listening. “Sandoval!” Ariana would retort, irate. “Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?” That’s when Tom Sandoval would go completely quiet. “Yes,” he would admit in a near-whisper. “This is exactly what I’ve always wanted.” A new Bravo villain would be born. A Bravo Househusband franchise would finally come to life.
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