"Uno, dos, tres, cuatro (Woooo-ooo!)"" width="400" height="400" style="width:100%;height:auto;" fetchPriority="high" > Leave it to Bravo to explore straight-man culture with brutal irony and a downright inability to make it look sanitary. Last week on The Rachel Zoe Project Rachel granted Rodger permission to go to Vegas for 24 hours to watch the Super Bowl and be with his bros in a sort of last hurrah before he becomes a father. Don’t people tend to have babies (in a planned way, at least) when they’re ready to not do that kind of stuff anymore? Anyhow, this week Rodger, because he is a Girl Next Door, charters a private plane with his fellow straights and rents a suite at the Palms — the extra-sexy kind with a hot tub on the balcony. Mr. Rachel Zoe makes a big show of getting wasted and being a high roller with such earnestness that Bravo ironically cut the footage as though it was The Hangover, which Rodger even told Rachel he was dying to re-create. After we see the man-boys land in Vegas and make a toast to Rachel and the fetus, we cut to the men in the morning with piles of takeout containers all over the hotel suite, looking mole-eyed, and talking about how they can’t believe they can’t remember how this happened. Is this the new fantasy of the late twenties to middle-aged man? To be Bradley Cooper in The Hangover? Maybe it beats wanting to be Bradley Cooper in Limitless. More lessons from last night’s episode start now.
Things We Learned About Life
• Rachel, who is right: “I have to let Rodger go to Vegas because I’ll come off as this bitchy, pregnant wife if I don’t.” A woman who has the power to “let” her significant other do things is always in a win-win situation, no matter what she “lets” the other person do.
• Rodger, who is wrong: “Let me explain something very clearly: You don’t need a reason to go to Vegas.” Actually going to Vegas is all about reasons for being there. People go either to avoid reckoning with commitment (bachelor parties, pre-fatherhood trips) or entering midlife (thirtieth birthdays or, in a very sad circumstance, fortieth birthdays).
You know, the plot line of Jeremiah’s uncertain future as a stylist is making committing to him as a character really hard. Clearly there is a cure to this unrelenting mental duress: putting on slutty outfits and blacking out in Vegas all weekend — woooo! Baptism, here we come! Pauly D spinnin’ at the Palms! Time to order the fake hair and extra body glitter you bitches and hos y’all woo!!!!
