Season 2, Episode 24: The Pit and the Pendulum - Or, GEE WHAT'S NEW Brandon Makes Everything All About Brandon

In which FUUUUUUUUUUCK remember when television shows aired like, 75 episodes per season (reality: 25-28)? I realize that the first couple of 90210 seasons were longer because of the Summer Episodes, but Jesus Christ.  I am so ready for Season 3, even though it includes My Least Favorite Story Line In The History Of Television.

We open with some horrible rockabilly-adjacent music (which is almost certainly some ass-track they had to replace whatever originally played here for the DVDs) playing as we see a bunch of Old Timey pictures, the first of which is the HOLLYWOODLAND sign...

...then Grauman's Chinese Theater...

...then this one, which is a picture of the set from the Babylon sequence of the 1916 silent film Intolerance. (The Hollywood and Highland Center, which is directly to the east of Grauman's, has a three-story courtyard which was inspired by this scene.  Do you care? No? Just me? Okay.)...

...an autographed photo of Walt Disney...

...a black-and-white of Don Drysdale...

...the Capitol Records building...

...the inside of the Peach Pit in the Olden Days, and then over to Season 1 Peach Pit? I guess? I am already so bored.

We finally pan down to Worthless Nat, who's been Sad Sackily (and Worthlessly) gazing upon all of these photos.  We hear a ruckus in the background...

...which turns out to be Brandon, Steve and Dylan playing air hockey of sorts with saucers and coffee mugs on the counter top.  Because they are entitled rich assholes.

Nat agrees.

Willie! arrives and says nothing, because Willie's basically a mute until Season 5.

Brandon "wins" or whatever and hops over the counter like a completely unsanitary boor.

He and Dylan do some ludicrous bro-clap...

...and then he reaches down to grab the saucer that wound up on the filthy fucking floor, but Nat gets there first and snips, "Why don't you and your 'fans' stomp on my dishes next time? That way they'll be sure to get broken?" Brandon apologizes, even though he really doesn't mean it, and then Nat gets his cunt on some more and gripes about Brandon doing some work for once in his goddamn life.

After Nat heads to the back room, Steve's all, "The Peach Pit.  L.A.'s newest fun spot." Oh, go buy yourself another silken blouse from Casual Corner and choke on it, you curly-headed stye.

Later, Brandon comes around the corner and into the back room of the Pit and runs into Willie, who says, "'Scuse me, Brandon," so I'm a liar.

Brandon then heads over to Nat, and they talk about mustard and what a little bitch Nat is being, and then Nat waxes regretful about remodeling the restaurant right before the recession hit, and hopefully also about all the free food he gives away on a daily basis.

And then because everything's always All About Brandon, he asks, "Should I start lookin' for another job?" Nat says no, that he'll probably have to get rid of Willie (who most certainly runs circles around Brandon) because he wants a raise after five years, which isn't asking for all that much.  Brandon's all incredulous about Willie getting the boot, and Nat dramatics, "I'm not made of money.  Somethin's gotta give." Good thing you spent a bunch of scratch on karaoke equipment and then got rid of it in like, a week, in the previous episode.  Nat is officially the savviest businessman I know.

Season 2; Episode 6 - Pass, Not Pass: I Will Pass On Everything In This Episode Except For The Beatdown Brenda's Right Palm Puts On AHHHHHHHHNdrea's Left Cheek.

In which BRENDA SLAPS AHHHHHHHHHNDREA.  That's all you need to know.  Let's dance.

We open at the House Of Walsh.

Inside Brenda's room, AHHHHHNdrea's being the grade-grubbing dork we've all come to know and detest and pestering Brenda about choosing a scene to act out for their final in Garg's drama class.  Brenda wants to do Annie Hall because she looks good in hats:

Which: no comment.  But Doll Brenda my boyfriend bought me came with a bunch of accessories and here's what she looks like with a hat on:

Again: no comment.  And yes: Doll Brenda came with a stand that rides up her genitals and has "BRENDA WALSH" emblazoned across the bottom of it.  What I'm trying to say is that Doll Brenda is just as fabulous as Real Brenda.  Moving along.

So AHHHHHHHNdrea, in another top the wardrobe department picked up at Limited Too, advises Brenda, "You're Mr. Suitor's pet.  I have never performed in this class before, I have to do well in order to pass," leading to the conclusion that only Brenda, Donna and Big Dave have performed in the class? I guess? Garg is doing the West Beverly Hills School District proud, I see.

So then Six LeMeure...I mean, Brenda, gets all excited because she thinks that because she's teacher's pet, Garg wants to do her.  Which is probably true.  But since he's a giant, molesting, statutory rapist perv, he probably wants to do all the girls in his class.  Including David.

And then AHHHHHNdrea gets her granny-panties in a twist and is all scandalized that Brenda apparently wants to date Garg (even though AHHHHHHNdrea will actually date, i.e. give a handy to, Garg, and continue to date [and marry] the Old & Inappropriate for the remainder of her time on the show), but much like Jackie with Mel, Brenda has apparently suffered a traumatic brain injury, seeing as she goes onto describe Garg thusly:  "He's creative.  He's articulate.  He's intelligent.  And he looks pretty good in faded jeans."  There's not enough vomit in my stomach or the world for me to forcefully eject out of my person after hearing that one.  So please.  Let's just move on.

Season 2; Episode 4 - Anaconda: No, The Title Of This Episode Is Not Referring To ANYTHING In Steve's Or Brandon's Pants. And Thank You To Satan For That Small Favor.

Dudes.  It's been a while.  And for that, I apologize.  It was a hectic March-into-April for me for whatever reason, mostly, and as previously discussed, because I am a lazy bag of dicks.

Fortunately, I was rewarded for being the Useless Mortal Of The Millenia in THE MOST MAGNIFICENT WAY POSSIBLE mid-March:

Oh, no big.  That's just my Dylan and Brenda dolls, hanging out on my coffee table.  YOU GUYS.  I have The Greatest Boyfriend Ever. SEEEEEEEEERiously.  He buys me things like this and isn't constantly backing away from me all slowly or even caring that I call him Dylan sometimes all the time.  Wait, what? I didn't just say that.  Nope.  Moving on to this ever-engrossing episode...

...in which Sad-Sack Dylan sad sacks around sad sackily and works my last nerve.  But not nearly as much as Brandon, who reaches "Higher Education" levels of shitbaggery with all of his pseudo-Hardy Boy antics and shoutily accusing people of things they didn't do, with a bunch of assumptions and little-to-ZERO evidence, in addition to his par-for-course Deflection Of Blame And Accountability, all "B.Y.O.B" StyleZ.  How Brandon has gotten this far in life without being scalped or imprisoned for crimes against humanity with all of his disloyalty and general Smarm Douchiness is beyond me.  ANYhow, nothing else really happens in this one.  Steve wears a fake handlebar mustache, which helps absolutely nothing.  Brenda gets sunburned, because that makes for compelling T.V.  Worthless Henry nearly surpasses Worthless Nat in the Worthlessness Department.  And Kelly's been banished to "Newport Beach," which means we don't have to deal with her embarrassingly flinging herself at homosexuals or baby-talking her way through her scenes for an entire episode! REJOICE! And, LET'S DO IT.

So we start off back in time, Beverly Hills circa 1978 because LOOK AT ALL THE CARS.

We hop in our DeLorean, travel forward through time and end up here, which we find out is Jim's office building because we hear him droning on and on to someone before we actually see him.

Cut to: Jim's office, where we have this horribly grainy screenshot, which I'm hoping is not attributed to the DVD player in my laptop, but rather what I suspected last week, which is that these BH, 90210 discs have been rode hard and put away wet so many times (think, the DVD version of Jackie Taylor) the quality they're serving up resembles that of a film reel us Old Timey people remember from elementary school.  You know: the ones about protoplasm or bicycle safety or Donald In Mathmagic Land.  ANYhow, Jim's talking to someone in this chair, which we only see the back of, and I guess it's supposed to be a mystery as to who it is, but it's totally not, because ALL the people know it's Dylan.  So here's what Jim's bloviating on about: "Look, I can help you manage your finances.  It's what I do and I do it very well. [GEE, I WONDER WHERE BRANDON GETS HIS PUSTULATING ANUS EGO FROM?] But if you keep putting this off, two things will happen: you will be flat broke, and you'll be in a lot of pain.  If you don't take care of it now the courts will step in and when that happens, all hell will break loose.  And frankly I think you have a moral responsibility here as well.  Do you have any idea how really serious this is?"

So then Sad Clown Dylan turns in his chair all fucking Eeyore and says, "Yeah, I guess I do."  So Jim exposits for the viewing audience that Dylan has to get on a plane and go to Hawaii to see his horrible mother.  And make peace with her or some shit so that he can get money from her.  Which, DOESN'T HIS MOTHER HAVE A FUCKING LEGAL OBLIGATION TO HER KID??? Like, why is Dylan having to do the footwork? Sue that bitch for negligence! And I know it comes out later in the season that Jack threw a bunch of money at Iris so that she'd go away blah blah blah, but this is just nonsense.  I could write a dissertation on this goddamn story line (and the show in general, obviously) but I won't.  I mean, I'm sure I will someday, when I'm in a psych ward and they remove my straitjacket from time to time to let me stretch my arms and whatever.

So Dylan is as disgusted as I am by the prospect of having to ask Iris for cash, and he gets his Almost Cry Face on and Poor Little Maybe-Not-So-Rich Boys, "All my life she threw money at me and called it love, I didn't ask for love, but to ask for money?" Although, I wish I had a mother who threw money at me all the time.  That would be RAD! And then Jim's all, "But if you don't you'll be asking for a lot worse," like WHAT.  He's SIXTEEN.  Perhaps becoming a ward of the state isn't such a bad idea, what, with the fucking tipped-over porta-potty residue parents he was NON-gifted with at birth.

Next, it's over to the BHBC and yes, it's the same establishing shots from before, set to some Beach Boy'ed version of the BH, 90210 theme song.

These people have been stuck in the same volleyball game since "Beach Blanket Brandon."

Poor, Tiny, Put-Upon Brandon, you guys.  He's actually having to work.  But look at his upchuck face as he does it I HATE HIM I HATE HIM SO, SO MUCH.

And then Brandon's Partner In God-Awfulness And General Piece Of Shitness Steve comes running up and jumps into Brandon's laundry basket.  That is not a sexual euphemism.

This picture here appears to be showing us the grossest most upsetting and brain-bleed inducing Lamaze class ever.  But in actuality, Steve is just trying to convince Brandon to join him in some after-hours poker game that evening in the beach club game room.  So then even though in later seasons one of Brandon's tedious, one-dimensional character arcs is I Have A Gambling Addiction and we're supposed to believe him to be the retroactive inspiration for the lyrics to Kenny Roger's The Gambler, Brandon informs Steve that, "I'm not comin'.  I work too hard for my money [COLOSSAL WHATEVER.] to waste it playing poker.  Besides, I'm not even that good at it."  You are also not good at being a decent human being, fuck stick, but that hasn't stopped you from parading around thinking you're the most morally superb person to walk the planet.  EAT THREE BUSHELS FULL OF DICKS AND CHOKE ON THEM AND THEN DIE OF ACUTE ASPHYXIA PLEASE.  ANYhow, Steve says that's why he wants Brandon to play: "You stink."

And then Brandon clues Steve in to the fact that the cart he cannon-balled into is full of towels with "paddle tennis sweat, sauna sweat, aerobics sweat, and uh, somethin' from the shower room floor I'm not even sure what it is," and then Brandon does this and pushes the cart full of Steve into traffic and while doing so, his shirt gets caught on the cart so they're actually both thrown into traffic and THE END.  NO MORE OF THESE TWO FOR THE REST OF MY EXISTENCE.  Except that I have a feeling that they will continue to haunt my night terrors for ALL of the eternities.

So rather than Steve and Brandon fulfilling my ultimate fantasy by dying, Brandon actually rolls Steve into these guys, who apparently just got done with practice for their Steely Dan cover band.  So until they hit it big, they're day job is working for Seashell Laundry.  This won't be the last we'll hear of them this episode either, so stay tuned.  Because I know that this scene was so riveting and all.

Season 2; Episode 2: The Party Fish - My Idea Of Hell On Earth? A Horrifyingly-Titled, Brandon-Fronted Episode Where Steve Gets To Say A Lot Of Words And Brandish His Increasingly Worrisome Chest.

In which I'd like to welcome my new readers! There's been a bit of a bump in views these past few weeks, and I'd like to shout out to Rach, who somehow found my blog (probably when I had that gun against her head and told her to type "modcam1923.blogspot.com" into the browser, whatever) and then mentioned it on THE MOST AMAZING SITE YOU WILL EVER HAVE THE PLEASURE OF READING, NO I'M NOT EXAGGERATING, Full House Reviewed.  For real-reals you guys, this is the funniest shit you will EVER read.  As the tagline says, it's every episode of Full House reviewed in chronological order, but in the most vulgar, amazing way possible.  ANYWAY, Rach is a follower of that blog, and mentioned my little old waste-of-time-and-sanity in the comments section of one of the posts there.  A few other readers took pity and came by for a visit, and they're apparently a bunch of masochists because they've stuck around and started weeding through the archives! Also: A special thanks to Teebore, who has left far-more-insightful-than-my-own comments on several of my posts.  Thank you for making sense of my diarrhea-laced rants and then intelligently sharing your thoughts.  So now...onto the show, which is kind of a bummer, as I'd much rather discuss ANYTHING ELSE.  Why, you inquire? Because this is the one where Brandon wants to stick it in some 33-year-old BHBC waitress, but then he realizes that She Has A Secret, which is that she's currently riding the dick of some cokey-vibed beach club member who takes a really weird and spooky interest in Brandon getting a car.  Although my theory is: dude's a pimp and thinks that Brandon's baby blues and dimples will look really fetching in some Rough Trade while selling his "goods" (if he has any...which he doesn't) on Hollywood Blvd.  WHERE WAS I? Oh, fuck it.  Whatever.  Read on.

We open on the House Of Walsh.

In the kitchen, Jim asks, "What time does your express bus leave?" and Brandon, all Put Upon and Sad-Sacky (YES, FUCKING AGAIN) tells his father, "6:30," even though it's CLEARLY 10 AM outside. So because Jim doesn't want to be around Brandon any more than any of the rest of us do, he says, "You better get goin’."

So Brandon gets up all grunty and whatever, and Jim's all, "What's with you?" And I interject, "He's a piece of shit," but no one listens to me, and then Brandon tells him, "Job burnout," AND WHAT THE HOLY MOTHER-FUCK IT'S BEEN A WEEK.  And THANK MOSES Jim's there to agree with me and advise this monstrosity, "After one week?" and THANK YOU, JIM. Also: I kind of like Jim this episode.  Kind of how I liked him in the “It’s Only A Test” episode.  But just like that one, I’ll be sporting a major hate Woodrow for him at the end of this episode.  My feelings toward Jim are very schizophrenic.  I...don’t know. So Brandon, who thinks he's been working with radioactive materials or in a goddamn coal mine or something, says, "It’s the toughest job I ever had, Dad." So unlike mine, Jim's head does not detonate (that's two episodes in a row for me, if you're keeping track) and tells his WANKER son, "Spending your day at the beach doesn’t sound all that difficult," and SEEEEEEERIOUSLY, Jim's my boyfriend right now. Only not because that's a really unpleasant thought. And because I said it, I now need to go bathe myself in a tub full of flesh-eating ants and asbestos.

So then because Brandon is The Worst, Always And Eternally, he puts on this smarm-face and tells his father, "But you have no idea what my day is like.  I’m the first one there in the morning, practically the last one to leave at night, I’m so busy all day the only way I know I’m at the beach is because my shoes are full of sand." Or because the fucking Pacific Ocean is RIGHT THERE, MORON. So Jim informs him that there's no free lunch and that, "You get what you pay for in this world," and than Brandon HONESTLY TO GOODNESS SAYS, "Ah, but you see, if you were to pay for oh, let’s say, half of what my car cost, I could quit and actually pretend it’s summer." WHATWHATWHAT??? I mean...THE GAUL. THE NERVE. Like, the self-entitlement on this one is just beyond reproach. Jim and Cindy should just bag him up, take him down to the Los Angeles River, drown him and call it a damn day. Which is basically what Jim implies he's going to do when he tells him, "Have a nice day, Brandon," but in a really monotone, "fuck you, slut" kind of a way. Jim is my Forever Temporary Homie.