Season 1; Ep. 11 - B.Y.O.B.: Drunk Brandon Sucks More Than Sober Brandon. I Know. I Didn't Think That Was Possible, Either.

What could make Brandon an even more intolerable piece of shit? Drunk driving! And then after putting countless lives in danger, what could make him even worse? Acting like a straight-up DICKHEAD and basically blaming his dangerous and boorish behavior on everybody else! This is maybe the one time that I wanted someone to die a horrific death in a car accident. Or at least have their vocal cords and facial expressions completely maimed and rendered useless. Kick it. 

The opening scene here is seventeen kinds of no. Brenda's hair? Bad. Doily-cardigan? Bad. Shit-colored pants with the waist tucked into her under-boob? BAD. Kelly actually looks relatively okay, minus her Candidiasis Jeans, of course. ANYway, Brenda makes a completely random comment about, "Why do guys get so macho when it comes to their cars?" HUH? Maybe Dylan was being all jerky about the Speedster or something. 

And then Kelly makes this face and says that she thinks it's an extension of their "you-know-whats." What, Kelly "Bette Midler" Taylor is too pristine to say "penis" or "dick"??? Whatever, CeCe Bloom. 

So then Donna comes up in...that. The feces-colored doily-cardigan is grody, but I like the shirt underneath, at least from what I can tell. I dig on Peter Pan collars, okay? So Donna's all, "Party hotline! Cancel everything, we are having a blowout tonight; my parents left for Cabo San Lucas [Our Felice WOULD NEVER] this morning." Then she says they'll keep it "small and strictly A-list." Well, I guess that means Steve, Brandon, Kelly, and Donna herself won't be there. 

CALM DOWN, DONNA! So Brenda asks if she can invite Dylan, and then Donna is all, "Oooo, hot and heavy," but she seriously says it like Tony "Micelli" Danza, all, "Ay-oh, oh-ay," like, WHEN DID DONNA BECOME A FORMER BASEBALL PLAYER WORKING AS A HOUSEKEEPER FOR AN AD EXEC IN CONNECTICUT? 

And Kelly's done with being a prude and tells Donna to change the sheets in the guesthouse, and that is just so, so classy. And then Kelly tells Brenda to definitely ask him, because there's "always room for one more cute guy." 

And these two dingles hear that and David, OF COURSE, thinks she means him, and LOOK AT YOUR SHIRT, DAVID. RETHINK YOUR LIFE CHOICES. And thank God Poor (Soon-To-Be) Dead Scott Scanlon is there to tell cretin David that Kelly wasn't talking about him because SERIOUSLY, DWEEB.

Season 1; Ep. 10 - Isn't It Romantic? BRENDA + DYLAN = 4EVA, Y'ALL.

In which our (okay, my) beloveds get together. Finally. After what feels like INFINITY X 27 GOJILLION INFINITIES. Oh, and of course Brandon has to be a TOTAL shit-stain about it (WHAT'S NEW) and rain on everyone's parade. But mostly: SQUEEEEE. LET'S ROCK.

So Brenda's walking up to the House of Walsh, wearing pretty much my wardrobe for the entirety of 7th grade. 

And...excuse me while I projectile vomit onto my laptop. 

ALL DONE. Anyway, Brenda is all Old Timey and had to go to, like, seven video stores and she still couldn't locate Dirty Dancing and she talks about needing a winter so that there's a season for her to sulk and be depressed in, and NO, BRENDA, NO YOU DON'T, because I just left the disgusting winters of Colorado behind and I've never been happier. PRAISE. 

And then Brandon thinks he's some macho, greased-up mechanic and he is just gross, you guys.  NICE NECKLACE, TONY MANERO. And then Brenda, wearing a handkerchief in her hair just like I used to do, says something about "whatever gets you through the night," AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE IDIOTS TALKING ABOUT??? Like, it sounds like sexy-talk, which is so, so repulsive. And not just because they're related but because it's Brandon. 

AND THEN. Dylan wheels himself out from under Mondale and is all "that's what I always say" and this is just weird. 

Brenda is surprised and turned on (WHO WOULDN'T BE) and wants to immediately bone Dylan.

But then he does this, which just so seems like something Fucking Dork Brandon would do, so thirty-seven points from Gryffindor for that, Dyl-Weed. 

But he scopes out her legs and ankles, which are clothed in Steve's slouchy socks...

...and he likes what he sees. 

Season 1; Ep. 9 - The Gentle Art Of Listening: Get Ready To Hop In The Shower After This One, Guys.

In which Doogie Howser's girlfriend gets repeatedly raped by The Chaddiest Chads In All Of Chadville. This whole episode's kind of gross, you guys. I guess let's rock this bitch.

Unfortunately, we open with some kind of pep rally and...this. Brandon thinks he’s…a total fucking tool. And he’s right. Nice hat and trashy, faded-looking sweatshirt-thing, dork breath.

He’s ogling the cheerleaders, of course, because he is a perv and hard-up since Crazy Eyed Sheryl left. One of these gals is Doogie Howser’s girlfriend, Wanda, who we will later learn is named Bonnie. I am going to continue calling her Wanda though, because one of my cat's names is Bonnie, and I really don’t want to be discussing rape and my elderly, toothless cat in the same breath. So. There’s that.  

Brandon pops a Woodrow when he sees Wanda looking his way...

…giving him this dorky smile. You wouldn't be smiling if you knew anything at all about his vile personality, Wan. 

Season 1; Ep. 8 - Seventeen Year Itch: This Entire Episode Gives Me The Willies.

In which Cindy totally fucks another dude. Unfortunately, it's only in her mind. Let's do this thing. 

We open with...this. Cindy's hideous engagement ring and wedding band. They are...not good. Which is fitting for Our Cindy. 

She takes them off and drops them in some equally hideous dish that one of the twins probably made her in 7^th grade. I think this is supposed to be symbolism.  

She makes this face, which is that of a sex-starved, unfulfilled housewife if there ever was one.

Jim "Jay Sherman" Walsh, looking the same as always, is basically telling Cindy, in her Jacqueline Smith Collection For Kmart robe, that she should shut the fuck up and thank her lucky stars that they got into some trendoid restaurant that night for their 17^th wedding anniversary.  

Cindy longingly caresses the frame of her wedding photo, taken when Jim maybe didn't suck so much and had hair. And also when she looked relatively stylish and pretty. GROW OUT THE PERM, CINDY. GROW IT OUT NOW.

Cindy's all “I want to get laid, Jim. I’ve put on my finest Jaclyn Smith peignoir in celebration of our anniversary and now I want you to jackhammer me into tomorrow.”

Jim, who is as lame and sucky as his son, cheese-dicks a line about taking a “personal exemption” and puts his sweet, sweet moves on Cindy, expecting her to produce some panty pudding with just a little over-the-bedspread action…

Shockingly, Jim’s “moves” do not work on her. She needs a little intimacy. And maybe doesn't want to get a glimpse of Jim's repulsive Back Of Fur.

And because Jim is a gigantic, selfish asshole, and Cindy won't like, lick his balls or some shit, he takes his leave of the room to go do accountant-type things. And by "to go do accountant-type things" I of course mean “to rub a balloon on his chest hair.”

Looks like Cindy's going to have to polish herself off AGAIN tonight. WAY TO GO, JAY SHERMAN. 

Season 1; Ep. 7 - Perfect Mom: Coked-Up Jackie Is Fun! And Then Not.

Awwwwww, yeeeeeeah. Shit’s about to get real-real in the 90210, y’all. Awesome Coked-Up Jackie is here and she’s ready to party. And ruin her daughter's life in the process. Whatever. Let’s do this. 

Ugh. We start out in the newsroom, with AHHHHHHHHHHHndrea being a judgmental fuck about the upcoming West Bev Mother-Daughter fashion show. Because she sucks. And has no friends. And because her mother wants to rightfully disown her and her shitty attitude and repulsive sweater. 

Brandon’s smug and annoying about something. The teacher finds it charming or something. Urkel over there is all “did I do that?”

Then comes the Mandatory Talk About AHHHHHHHHHHndrea Living Out Of District Scene For This Episode. BLAH BLAH GROSS HAIR BLAH AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea can’t enter the fashion show because, yes, She Lives Out Of District And Someone Might Find Out. And not care. BECAUSE NO ONE DOES.

Poor (Soon-To-Be) Dead Scott Scanlon: "Lakers hat? Check. Hideous color-blocked sweatshirt that I hope my crazy mother doesn’t bury me in after I 'accidentally' shoot myself in the stomach and die? Check. Horrible Friend who’s only using me until he manipulates himself into higher rank in the West Bev hierarchy? Check."

David: "What’d you say, man? I wasn’t listening because I’m busy plotting how to manipulate myself into a higher rank in the West Bev hierarchy. And ogling Kelly. And I’m pretty sure I’m wearing a Hypercolor shirt. Here, blow on it…"

So David, Tech Geek Extraordinaire and Voyeur Perv, films Kelly handing out clothes to all the nobody’s participating in the fashion show that Awesome Coked-Up Jackie will be emceeing. And ruining. With her cokey antics.

Donna: "So, I’m gradually getting more lines. And my hair is gradually getting crispier. And my mother in this episode is not the Rad, David-Hating, Champagne-Loathing, Philandering, Possibly Anti-Semitic Felice we all know and love. I think her name is also Nancy."

Kelly: "Thankfully, the Awesome Coked-Up Jackie we will come to know and love is here."

So then Brenda "Blossom" Walsh and Kelly cackle about the fact that Kelly is clique-ishly hoarding all of the good clothes for them. Nice knowing you, Donna. Also, Kelly sucks. Also: “the good clothes” are far fucking from it. You’ll see.