Season 2, Episode 17: Chuckie's Back - Sick And Tired Of Christmas-Related Everything At This Point? Oh. Well. This is Awkward. My Timing On These Is Flawless As Always.

In which Steve adopts a child television actor named Bucky and Donna and David do the worm at a dance something-something.  I don't know.  You should probably read ahead to find out if either of those things are true.

As is the tradition, we open with a Sweet Ghee-tar Lick and a pan-down to the front of West Beverly.

Obligatory Rando Extras' shots...

...including one of this Urkel/Dwayne Wayne-hybrid dude wearing a suit and tie and talking into a phone that's cord is coming out of a briefcase?  Is this real life???

We continue with shots of things such as the Mushroom-Headed Band Loser as David's pipsqueaky voice chimes in over the P.A. system, to the detriment of everyone's ear drums: "Yo, West Beverly.  Don't forget West Beverly and Beverly get together this Friday for the annual Winter Dance starting at 8 p.m. in the West Beverly gym.  Be there." How sucky.  No, I don't mean David's voice, even though yes, it is sucky, but the "suck" I'm referring to is the fact that West Bev has to share a dance with another school.  Their rival, no less.  I only care because I'm a total life failure.

Into the hallway, we have Donna (wearing something very beige and bland and sleep-inducing), Kelly (wearing a cute, if not slightly dated-looking shirt) and Brenda (looking okay in a so-so blazer and a headband I would like to burn right off her gorgeous head of hair) walking through a doorway as some garland falls from above, Kelly expositing, "God, I'll be glad when finals are over." Donna doesn't know how the school can expect them to take finals, "when we have Christmas shopping to do." Ahh, Ye Olde Timey days before internet shopping.

They talk some more about finals before moving the conversation over to what to wear to the Winter Dance as they congregate at Donna's locker.  Kelly suggests to Donna, "Why don't you wear a big sign that says, 'I'm here with David Silver, but I'm really still available.'" Donna's not in the mood to be reminded of her God-awful taste in dudes and she tells Kelly, "We are just friends," and then no one believes her because her pants are currently on fire.  Also: Kelly needs to give me her bag like, now.

Over to Brandon Cool Guy-leaning against the staircase banister as Steve comes down and erotically breathes into his ear, "Big, big, big, big dance Friday night."

And then, cripes, after Steve asks if he's going to the dance, Brandon delves into his ever-so-tired rhetoric of I Don't Dance, even though we've all been subjected to...well, how many times must I remind you:

Yeah.  And maybe, then, it's not so much that Brandon Won't Dance; it's that he was banned by society from dancing ever, ever, ever again following the above display which clearly signified End Of Days.

Steve informs his elfin friend that, "It's just called a dance! You don't actually have to dance," and then he does this:

Like sort of shimmies and it was kind of funny and WHO AM I AND WHAT HAVE I BECOME.  I can feel myself developing a soft spot for Steve and MAKE IT STOP.

Anyway, Steve informs Brandon that he was thinking of asking Kelly to the dance and that, "I think she deserves another chance." Yes! Yes! Say more things like that! Those kinds of things do wonders for my I Hate Steve Sanders life motto.  Brandon's all, "You're giving her another chance? Isn't she the one who broke up with you?" Steve, deluded as usual: "Yeah.  But I forgave her."

Season 2, Episode 16: My Desperate Valentine - The USS Crazy Town Has Pulled Into Port, And By That I Mean "Emily Is One Crazy Bitch."

In which Emily loses her ever-loving mind.  Over Brandon.  Yeah.  She's clearly a lunatic.

"Rockin'" music starts up as we open on West Bev, exterior.  Our friend Neon-&-Black Backpack is present and accounted for, this time with Joe E. Tata's name splayed across his ass, in some kind of early prototype of the Juicy Couture velour tracksuit pants.

After a thousandtine exterior shots of a bunch of Nobody Extras wandering around campus, we eventually wind up inside, to this hallway, where Emily and her plaid pajama pants and odd vest she clearly stole from a kids' vintage cowboy costume, stops and sees...

...this guy.  Who is clearly Not Brandon.  But for some reason she thinks it's Brandon.  Even though I could tell you just by looking at the back of him that this is definitely Not Brandon, seeing as this guy's got a good 6 inches on Brandon (I kid, I kid - but not really) and that's totally not Brandon's hair.  And this guy doesn't emit an overwhelming fetor of smug, either, so that's actually all the proof I need.

So because Brandon broke up with her in the previous episode, she decides that she's now going to strangle him to death, which you can see here.  And which I'm all for.  Unfortunately, none of that is true.  She just goes up to Not Brandon and starts giving him what I presume she thinks is a Sexy Massage that will erase the memory of her drugging him to Jesus and then acting like it wasn't a big deal in the slightest.

Oh! But it turns out she was giving so fucking obviously Not Brandon the rubdown, and not the Brandon we've all come to know and loathe and wish was, if not dead, then at least irrevocably muted.  Emily, embarrassed, says, "This is Brandon's locker." Not Brandon, clearly not knowing what he's saying, says, "Not anymore.  They just assigned it to me.  But, uh, I can be Brandon if you want." Nobody wants that, dude.  Nobody.

STOP EVERYTHING: I'm On A Podcast And Am Very Important

Hey.  I'm on a podcast.  Talking about the only thing I know how to talk about.  While listening, you may wonder, "Why is a husky-voiced Kathleen Turner discussing a 25-year-old episode of Beverly Hills, 90210?" But trust me: it's me.

A colossal THANK YOU to The Blaze with Lizzie & Kat! for having me on.  Saying things is hard! But they made it a delight.  Click here and have a listen.

(Also: we're discussing "Cardio-Funk" here. so like, 87 episodes of where I'm currently at.  But fear not: the "My Desperate Valentine" post is nearing completion.)

*Image pilfered from @90210blaze's Instagram.

Season 2; Episode 15: U4EA - This Post Is FOR You And FOR Me. DO YOU GET IT??? Also: My Dad Told Me I'm Clever And I Believe Him.

Before we get into this thing, I just wanted to tell you a little about the live podcast from The Blaze With Lizzie and Kat! that I attended here in L.A., which dealt with this very episode.  Emily Valentine Herself, Christine Elise McCarthy, was the guest and she was adorable and charming and lovely and still has amazing upper arms, by the way, which inspired me to go directly home afterwards and bust out several circuits of chair dips, and by "inspired me to go directly home afterwards and bust out several circuits of chair dips," I mean, "inspired me to go get drunk off margaritas and power-eat a bunch of chips and salsa and enchiladas." Also present: Charles Fucking Rosin! Writer/executive producer of 90210! Yeah, I was pretty much a giant blushing fangirl goober the entire time.  And also a little like a Maury audience member, in that I was audibly saying things, like "Mmhm!" and "HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" and "YOU GO GIRL!" (okay, maybe not that last one) and clapping like a chimp and just generally being A Total Embarrassment.  So basically, like Dancing David without the windmilling arms or color-blocked, poly-blend abortion of an outfit swathing my person.

AAAAAAANYWAY, Lizzie and Kat were amazing - total pros who put together an engaging and funny evening for everyone in attendance.  They are Boss Ladies and I truly admire what they're doing.  Here's the link to this live podcast - you should also back through the archives, because if you're not tuning in, you're truly missing out on all the fun.

Benjamin was in town that weekend and joined in the festivities (along with my boyfriend) and oh, he came to play:

And meet Christine Elise LOOK AT HER ARMS:

And he actually won the door prize!  And has A Moment in the podcast where he says things and unfortunately announces to the world that he most relates to David Silver.  Yeah, we're not friends anymore.

I also purchased Christine's novel, Bathing & the Single Girl, after the show.  I'm planning on doing a giveaway of the extra copy I picked up, sometime between now and the next blog post (so like, in another year or so), so stay tuned.  I've just started to read it myself and am already completely in love with her writing style.  I'm sure whoever wins whatever ludicrous contest I think up ("Like this post on Instagram and then tag 15 of your closest friends and share with at least 7 of your mortal enemies and then eat a bunch of Raisin Bran to the point that you have the trots and then take a picture of your sloppy stool floating in the toilet bowl and whichever specimen looks most like this picture of Mary Magdalene, wins") will love it, too.

In the meantime, onwards and upwards.

Wherein Brandon overdoses on vast quantities of the U4EA Emily slips into his drink.  And none of us ever have to deal Smug Smugly ever, ever, ever again and we're all happy and impromptu parades break out across the globe and world peace is declared and we all hold hands and sing it like a goddamn early-'70s Coke commercial.  A girl can dream, no?

Front of West Bev; kicky music plays in the background and we see that that hot bitch JACKIE! will be making an appearance this episode, which is comforting, given everything else we're in for.

Hallway; a bunch of people roam about, including the guy in the tangerine shirt up there, who's clearly 35 with a wife and two kids.

The staircase; a bunch of horribly-dressed extras.

Inside to a hand turning a locker dial...

...which turns out to be Emily's hand, opening her locker with a flourish and declaring "Ta-dah!" to Brandon.  She's offering up a shelf to him, seeing as he's apparently always being a little pansy and complaining about not having enough room in his locker.  She tells him, "I kinda like the idea of your books in my locker," which loosely translates to, "I would like your penis in my vagina." Brandon, Hard-Up Garden Gnome, concurs, stating that he would also like his penis in her vagina, ahem, books in her locker, but coyly queries, "Movin' in together - that's an awfully big step, isn't it? I mean, what would your parents think?"

Emily fills him in on the fact her parents think she's nuts anyway, because they've seen her hair (which here, resembles a bleached out bald eagle's nest that's weathered at least a half-dozen typhoons and countless squall line thunderstorms) and her taste in guys.  And I'd like to break it to both these dweebs that as far as Emily being "nuts" goes: they ain't seen nothin' yet.

And then this happens and I lose my eyesight for the 55th time since starting this blog.

Season 2; Episode 14 - The Next Fifty Years: Of My Life Will Be Spent Coming Up With New Ways Of Saying "Steve's Hair Is A Sinister Underworld Filled To The Brim With Excrement" And "I Really Fucking Hate Brandon." Read On For The Most Recent Additions To My List.

(First and foremost, I'd like to send a birthday shout-out to the one and only Rach! A ride-or-die kind of a broad who's been an immense source of support of this nonsense for a while now...which actually kind of makes me question her judgment and psychological stability, but that's neither here nor there.  For your special day, Rach, as requested, I got you this profanity-laden blog post about a fair-haired loser who accidentally shoots himself and dies.  On his birthday.  So.  Happy Birthday to you? I guess? This is a really dreadful gift.)

In which we all know what happens in this one: Brenda bestows us with the dance move that launched a thousand-and-one imitations.  In my life anyway.

I've attempted to recreate this Julliard School Dance Division-worthy move since the moment this episode aired, only in the privacy of my own bedroom and, in more recent years, only with (potentially) a few pairs of judgy-ass cat eyes on me.  I've never been able to fully capture the grace and elegance Shannen Doherty clearly brought to the table with this one, but I try.  Still, I try.  Even if I ever only achieve 1/1,000,000th of the funk she's serving up here, I would be unable to share it with the public.  Mikhail Baryshnikov and Twyla Tharp and Blossom Russo would be so overcome with boiling jealousy and self-doubt, they'd never dance again, and I just wouldn't be able to live with that.

Oh, and also: Scott blows his digestive tract off.  And dies.  Whatever.

We open - as is so often the case - with the tip-tops of palm trees as we hear "This Is My Country" on the soundtrack.

We slowly pan down, seeing Douglas Emerson's name's final appearance onscreen...

...to the parched quad area of West Bev.  A choir is singing the aforementioned song and a bunch of other students who apparently have nothing better to do are gathered 'round.  We also see the banner proclaiming, "West Beverly Hills High School Time Capsule," and then the dates 1941 and 1991, hanging from the balcony.

Pan over the choir dorks.  I can say that because I was a choir dork in middle and high school.  And a really atrocious one at that.

More panning over the crowd.  This recedingly hair-lined dude wearing the unfortunate combination of a turtleneck under a button-down shirt (ah, the early-'90s) appears to be a member of the SAUNders family, or perhaps just another student giving Steve a run for his 41-year-old money in the 41-year-old department.

Sidebar: I didn't notice this person until I started screencapping but seriously, WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY.  He clearly arrived in 1991 in a time machine from the 1984 movie, This Is Spinal Tap.

Finally (and regrettably) we wind up on David, filming the goings-on in a shirt he appears to have fashioned out of the fabric scraps left over after Vivian Ward's polo match dress was made.  Except that since his shirt clearly moonlights as a fumigation tarp for the Spelling Mansion, it's more likely that he so fancied Vivian's dress that he headed to ALL the Jo-Anns to buy ALL the bolts of this fabric in ALL of the state of California, as well as parts of Arizona and Oregon.  Also: we're only 2:02 into this episode and I've already made a Pretty Woman reference.  I can hardly wait to see how many more I can cram in, given that I'm going through withdrawals, having not made a single one in my "Halloween" recap.  Moving on.

So then we get David's vantage point of looking through the camera (how clever) as he focuses on the banner.

Then we sadly get David's tinny voiceover as he pans down to Brandon and his Smug Brandon Mug (slathered in Blush-&-Bashful Bronzer, it appears) wearing a sports coat and a tie, and AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea wearing what could be a cute dress but is more than likely an abomination.  I mean, it's AHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea after all.  David says, "That's Brandon Walsh with the editorial board [ed. note: oh, please]; AHHHHHHNdrea Zuckerman, [and he seriously says "AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea," like, exactly how I write it, and he sounds kind of irritated with it, which was pretty boss and very un-David-like, really] editor-in-chief of the Blaze."

Mrs. T.  Dressed as Bette Midler and Bette Midler's SHOULDER PADS in Big Business? Silly Mrs. T. - Halloween was last episode!

And then David gets this guy, "Mr. Chapman," who we'll see later in the episode as well as later in the season as Brandon and a 'roided-up Steve's track and field coach.

The Blonde Brigade, surrounded as always by a bunch of Nobodies.  David refers to them as "the Three Amigos," because he's just as quick-witted as I am.

He then sets in his sights Dylan and Brenda, and what a fucking nuisance to everyone else in the crowd, lurking around, stalking the clique he so desperately wants to be included in.  Also: see the horror in Brenda's eyes at his approach? That's pure, primal fear right there.

As he gets closer, he says, "Dylan McKay and Brenda Walsh, popular...a campus couple," and of course Dylan's reaction is to tell the troglodyte to go fuck himself.  Well played, Dylan, well played.

David creeps around getting more footage ("footage" = "jack-off material for later") as we wind up back with Brandon and AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea onstage.  (Don't hate me but I like Brandon's hair here; what can I say? I like a good pomp.)  He asks AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea how many verses are in the ever-loving "This Is My Country," because seriously, it's been going on for several hours at this point.  AHHHHHHHHHNdrea then reminds Brandon that, "Citizen Kane is Saturday night," which sounds like a surefire cure for insomnia to me, especially in the company of AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea and her rat's ass hair, but whatever.  Brandon then makes the grave mistake of bailing on her, seeing as he's got a date with Emily that night, and though barely audible or visible, if you look hard enough and listen hard enough you'll observe AHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea turning away and seething, "If I can't have you, no one can," out of her foaming mouth.

FINALLY, the choir is through and Mrs, T. and her SHOULDER PADS head to the microphone, advising everyone assembled, "I'd like to thank our special guests from the Class of '41, who invite all of you to take a closer look at the time capsule.  Thank you.  We'll see ya tomorrow." And then everyone claps.  Because this lame assembly is over.

David, in a shirt Dorothy Zbornak would deem "too shapeless," heads back over to Dylan and Brenda, embarrassing himself further by begging Dylan for "just one sound bite, please.  That's all I ask."

Season 2; Episode 13 - Halloween: I'M ALIVE. And So Is Scott. But Not For Long. Also, Reminder: Please Don't Rape, Or Attempt To Rape, Anyone. Because That Makes You A Giant Piece Of Shit On Multiple Levels.

In which let's ignore the fact that I haven't been very attentive to the blog over the last infinity (real time: 3 months) and instead take a peek at the DVD menu for this disc:

I mean, look at it.

Reeeeally look at it.

Jesus.  Also: have I distracted you from my negligence yet? No? All I've done is provide you with an ample supply of night terrors for the remainder of your lives? Oh.  Well, then.  Carry on and...you're welcome? I guess?

                                                                                     

So we open with umpteen shots of jack-o'-lanterns lit from within by flickering candles.  Seriously, this goes on for at least 3 days.  A woman's screams can also be heard on the soundtrack, totally not inappropriate or disturbing and really just in keeping with the screams Kelly will be letting out later in the episode as she's being assaulted.  It's called "a theme," people.  Oh, and of course no opening montage would be complete without The Sweet Ghee-tar Lick.

We eventually fade up on these sad mini pumpkins with shoddily, Sharpie-drawn faces on them.

Unsurprisingly, it is AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea drawing the uninspired faces on the pumpkins, which are going to be party favors at The Valley Youth Center party AHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's attending later that evening.  How fucking depressing: a tiny gourd with a shitty, Sharpie-drawn face on it + having to hang out with The Zuck all night? Happy Halloween, kids.

Brandon mocks AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's evening plans with a sarcastic, "Ohhhh, how sweet." AHHHHHHHHNdrea reminds him that he likes kids, too, which he affirms, and then AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea adopts a high-pitched, sacchariny voice that gives us the tiniest glimpse of a sense of humor and mocks, "Ohhhhh, how sweet."

Brandon serves up this murderous glare, which is reminiscent of the time he seriously considered shaving Dylan's body of its flesh and boiling it up for a midday snack:

YIKES.

But seriously.

He continues to concern everyone by stabbing the pumpkin with the knife he's been wielding and twisting it around.  AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's face here speaks for us all.