Part 3 of Season 3, Episode 3: Too Little Too Late; Paris 75001 - The writers of this show really said, "Non-toxic men? I don't know her."

How many more ways can I state that the guys on this show - main cast and tertiary - are true, witless pig-men who should be banished from society? I know it's only going to get worse before it gets...significantly worse, so joke's on me.  Enjoy some more Y chromosome nonsense, I guess.

Kidz Kampztown, USA.  They're playing Red Rover.

How the hell was this game ever allowed? Remember the bruises? And the persistent burning sensation in your wrists after another kid barreled through the chain of arms? Parents: is this still a thing? Because I can't imagine it is.  Signed: Ye Old Marm who's clutching pearls over her uncouth childhood activities.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck.  Still lurking from the sidelines: Steve, topless and broiled; Brandon, self-satisfied and not working.  Brandon queries, "What is it about guys that makes them suddenly want the one girl they can't have?" Because you're a manipulative, narcissistic prig who views women as less-than and mere prizes to "win," thereby feeding your already-bloated ego? And I'm sure a host of additional personality disorders but that's the first theory that comes to mind and we haven't got all day.

Steve, still 44: "I don't know, I think it's hormonal." Please.  I just ate.

Back over to AHHHHHHHNdrea: she blows her only friend - i.e. the whistle - and announces lunch...

...and this complete irritant ditches his dermally-compromised companion to run after her, GRABBING HER ARM IN THE PROCESS OF COURSE - which just made me feel like this, and also a whole lot like this - to which she responds, "Not now, Brandon." NOT EVER.  God.

STILL HOLDING ONTO HER ARM, he ignores her very clear and concise boundary-setting and begs, "No, come on, please just listen to me for one minute, okay? I didn't sleep much last night.  I was thinking a lot about what I did and what you said.  You were right.  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to offend you or insult you."

AHHHHHHHHNdrea's titanium spine melts down into a puddle of T1000 right then and there and she immediately (and far, far too easily) forgives him with a smile and a, "Apology accepted."  Goddamn it, The Zuck.

At least she promptly turns and walks away from him and his low budge apology, though he, naturally, can't let that be the end of it, so he follows her and asks, "That's it? Just like that, apology accepted? Ya know, you do have every reason in the world to think I'm scum." Self-aware king? She takes it a step further and calls him pond scum - yes! More of this! - but she's entirely too nice about it and when he asks if they're still friends, she much-too-kindly tells him that they are.

They smile back and forth at each other...

...and they're very cute here and if he wasn't such an arrogant, pustulating penis fissure, I might have endorsed their union at some point.

He also can't seem to turn the fucking page because he continues to follow her and asks, "You really like [Jay], dontcha?" because he desperately wants her to Cheap Trick him since it really gets his rocks off, so when she confirms that yes, she bafflingly does like that soggy piece of wood mulch in mortal form, he has to cover his ass and say, "That's good.  I'm happy for ya." He's also miraculously able to admit, "You called it.  Ya never know what you've got 'til it's gone," which I guess was admirable, but the bar for this clod is truly located in the absolute dregs of the Dead Sea, so that's not saying much.

Whatever, she walks away and he stares after her wistfully and don't worry, Brandon: your dreadfully-coiffed, deeply bigoted, equally-as-unjustifiably-smug princess is right around the corner.  I can't wait to drown myself in the tub before then!

Part 2 of Season 3, Episode 3: Too Little Too Late; Paris 75001 - Join me for a horrifying journey into the depraved mind of an egomaniac YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO

 Brandon reaches PEAK atrociousness here.  Let's beat him to death.  With words.  And maybe like, The Craft level shenanigans of some kind.  AHHHHHHNdrea could learn a lesson or two from the great Nancy Downs.

Such as: not doing this with this alarmingly uninteresting - and dastardly, given the Young Republicans of it all - bag of uncooked farina.  I'm loath to make such a proclamation, but: YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS, AHHHHHHHNDREA.  And also Brandon.  But we'll get there.

And for now, she's giddy: "Pinch me, I still can't believe I'm not dreaming." As she says this she's running her hands up and down the back of his neck, which damaged me on an anatomical level from which I will never fully heal.  He smarms, "Hey, chalk one up to the dreams do come true department," so not only is this guy a grade-A BORE, he's a fucking cheesedick who goes around spewing truly vom-inducing lines like that one.  The camera pans back and around these two sick fucks...

...to Brandon, clearly in a real place of lurk as he pushes a laundry cart and glowers in their disgusting direction.

As is his wont, this lowest common denominator appears because of course he does, to add his two delusional cents to the mix: "She's tryin' to make you jealous, ya know.  Girls pull stunts like this to make you realize you like them," and this has just positively never happened to Steve, not once.  Brandon insists it's nothing, and that he wasn't even staring at AHHHHHNdrea and the putty-colored probable-bigot with whom she's currently canoodling.

Steve, 44, lays it on the line: "If you're gonna make a move, buddy, you'd better do it before it's too late." He then walks away to go blind other unsuspecting victims with his nuclearly braised upper body.  Brandon looks back over at...

...this, stop it...

...then exhales and violently shoves the laundry cart out in front of him, because nothing says "quality guy" like one who throws a fit after being rejected by a woman.

Part 1 of Season 3, Episode 3: Too Little Too Late; Paris 75001 - Stimulants, while not required, are strongly encouraged for this one. You'll see.

I gotta say: Part 1 has me snoozin'.  But at least Brandon feels terrible the whole time, so I have that to keep me warm on this frigid Los Angeles eve.

We start at the Beach Club...

...with the Kampz for Kidz or whatever the hell...

...and the smalls have clearly tired of Brandon as much as the rest of us, seeing as they're burying him alive in the sand.  They're gonna need to shove a couple of scoopfuls in that maw of his, however, seeing as he's still able to breath and speak, calling out, "AHHHHHNdrea.  AHHHN...AHHHHHNdrea, AHHHHHHNdrea.  This is gettin' a little out of hand."

AHHHHNdrea for some reason still enjoys his company and giggles, "Sorry, Brandon, I can't help you.  I'm busy right now!" probably talking the ear off some poor 7-year-old about her Senior year syllabus as Editress-in-Dweeb for the ever-loving, National Press Club Journalism Award-winning FUCKING Blaze.

Cut over to this little boy.  As a non-spoiler because this is a long-in-tooth episode of television and we're all marching toward death so who cares: this kid's name is Cameron and he's deaf and AHHHHHNdrea will overstep some boundaries this episode to get him in the Kidz for Kampz program; his mother will be kind of a drag about the whole thing which is entirely understandable due to the AHHHHHHHNdrea of it all; and Brandon will use him as a pawn in order to get AHHHHHNdrea to stay in town instead of going off to the Republican National Convention (fuuuuuuck) with her damp paper towel of a boyfriend, Gray Berman or whatever the fuck his non-name is and it's just as much of a heart-string-puller as it sounds - that is to say, not at all.

Anyway, it's clear that Cameron's interest in Kiddie Kamptown USA is piqued, but he knows his downer of mom won't let him join so he just makes a frustrated face to himself (mayhap because he senses The Zuck on his horizon?), asks for a book to read and calls it a fucking day.  Same, Cameron.  Same.  Except instead of "asks for a book to read," mine would be "asks for a bottle of wine to take to the head."

Worthless Henry! Having reached peak worthlessness in the previous episode, he's back to rib Brandon about being whatever is the opposite of Employee of the Month: "Layin' down on the job again, Walsh?" - WHEN IN THE FUCK IS HE NOT - "Get back to work, you lazy bum." DRAG HIM TO FILTH.  Except that this is all said good-naturedly before he walks off to go, I don't know, meet Worthless Nat at the Peach Pit for their weekly Worthlessness Anonymous gathering.  Thanks for coming out, Worthless Henry!

AHHHHNdrea announces to the kids that it's lunchtime and everyone runs off, including AHHHHHHHNdrea...

...leaving Brandon behind as he should be, always and forever.

Sadly for her, he manages to extract himself from the sandpit and catches up, saying, "You got a good group of kids there," and then begins to ask her to hang out later that night...

...but as in the last episode, she cuts him off to call out, "Jay!" who has arrived to pick her up, and then back to Brandon: "I'm sorry, 'scuse me, I gotta go.  I'll see you later, okay?"

Brandon sad sacks, "Okay," and inject this directly into my VEINS I love it.

Cindy appears out of thin air for her 45 seconds of airtime, asking, "Oh, is that AHHHHHNdrea's new boyfriend?" Brandon me-OWs, "I don't know, he's a boy; he's her friend," and oh, how I cherish a bitchy and bothered Brandon.

Shot of Jay and AHHHHHHNdrea hugging like the two no-sex-having geeks they truly are.  Steamy.

It's obvious Cindy is only here to torture her shitty spawn, which is apparent when she twists the knife even further: "Well,  she certainly looks happy!" Brandon laughs through a grimace with, "I hadn't noticed." Having done her part to inflict spiritual damage upon her weasel of a son, Cindy's off to go hang with another turd - Jim - to play gin rummy.  Sounds like a nightmare!

BAH.  A true jump scare occurs as a topless - and epidermically defiled HE'S SO PINK - Steve appears, also as if from nowhere, holding a folded-up newspaper (sure, Jan); he asks Brandon, "Have you seen today's Times?" There is no way in HELL that this brain-wormed stooge reads "the Times" or anything other than the back of the Alpha-Bits box on the daily.  I guess we've already reached the inevitable point in the episode where I need to slap on my Suspension of Disbelief dunce cap.  Anyway, Brandon says he hasn't seen the paper and Steve tells him, "Dylan's old man made the front page.  He's up for parole."

Brandon reads the headline and lets out a big old theater kid-exhale: "Well, to tell ya the truth, I think Dylan's better off with his old man behind bars." You know what should also be behind bars? Whatever is happening atop Steve's head right here. 

Part 4 of Season 3, Episode 2: The Twins, the Trustee and the Very Big Trip - Oh, whatever.

 Part 1? I’ve got you covered.  Part 2?? Why, it's right here.  Part 3??? At this link, natch.  And now, fall into Part 4 and feel as dejected and disgusted as I do.

We remain at Brenda's House of Horrors.

Inside, we're in her bedroom where she stands at her dresser, shoving items into a bag as Dylan tries to reason with her, i.e. get her the fuck out of town so he can be a very handsome pile for the rest of the summer.  He implores her to calm down, to which she replies, "I'll be fine as soon as I get outta this house," and, referring to Jim and Cindy: "They are manipulative, they are arrogant, they are mean."

As she walks to the other side of the room, Dylan proclaims, "Yeah, they're your parents," and yes, this Perennial Little Boy Lost would ABSOLUTELY be the expert in the field of Just Fucking TERRIBLE Parentage, given:

Exhibits A through M; and:

Exhibits N through Septuple Z.

Part 3 of Season 3, Episode 2: The Twins, the Trustee and the Very Big Trip - I'm no Lauren Conrad: I'll take Paris over a revolting man - i.e. ALL THE MEN ON THIS SHOW - every. Damn. DAY.

Get all up in Part 1's business, here; worm your way into the affections of Part 2, here; and finally, show some love to Part 3 starting....NOW:

Sunny Beach Club beachy clubby scenes.

Snack Shack.  Brandon leans and doesn't work, and Steve wears a tank top and underwear and waits for a beverage.  You'll never guess what this lewd man with a Sebastopol goose perched atop his cranium laying eggs is banging on about OH WAIT YOU WILL because he's as obsessed with twin-swap erotica as Jim is with Brenda's reproductive cavity.

After getting his drink - which should've actually been thrown in his frizzled toupe - the two of them walk-and-talk, Steve telling Brandon, "What's fair is fair." Brandon counters with, "And what's stupid and insulting is stupid and insulting," and Steve, the stupidest person on this show by far, and that includes a two-day old Baby Erin, is all, "We all know who got the stupid one," in a scumbag reference to Rory.  Brandon should IRL unfriend Steve on the spot, but again, it won't happen because: the '90s, bros before hos, men are trash, fucking whatever.

Brandon advises him, "If you wanna go out with Claire, just call her up and ask her.  I don't care.  I'm not gonna make a stink about some girl who's going back to Florida in a couple days.  But don't make me go out with Rory just because you got some fantasy thing about twins." Steve desperately needs his head examined, and by "examined," I of course mean, "beaten with a bat." Brandon further says that if Steve even broaches the "switcheroo" subject with the girls, they'll be so disgusted and revolted that they'll both be out the door.  I think once both of them recover from their apparent matching traumatic brain injuries, which, come on, is the only logical reason they agreed to date either of these professional morons in the first place, they'll be disgusted and revolted with themselves for ever giving such dildos the time of day.

Cut to: Steve on a FLIP PHONE, the first one in creation, I gather, given its SIZE, oozing, "6:30 going once, 6:30 going twice...sold to the cute girl from Ft. Lauderdale.  So I'll see you then.  And please, tell Rory I'm glad she's feeling better.  Yeah, ya never know - she and Brandon just may hit it off.  Bye, babe." Are my ears spouting blood like a mall fountain? Because I really think my ears are spouting blood like a mall fountain.

He closes the flip part with the help of five men, because that thing's the size of a snow plow's moldboard, as Brandon asks, "How'd you know they'd go for it?" Steve sinks to the lowest levels of delusion and says, with an entirely straight face, "Even when you were with Claire, I sensed there was some chemistry goin' on between us.  I would've said something, but I didn't wanna get into a competitive thing with you over some girl."  Brandon, wiser to Steve's pathetic antics than anyone, goes full sarcasm with, "Oh, no.  Not you, Steve." They pull snaps and Steve heads off and I mop up the pools of blood on the floor from my ear founts after being subjected to Steve's "seductive" voice schmoozing out, "Bye, babe."

Part 2 of Season 3, Episode 2: The Twins, the Trustee and the Very Big Trip - Another working title for this one? Men Behaving Deplorably, Especially Steve

Take a look-see at Part 1, right the hell here, and dive on into Part 2.  NOW:

We're right inside the Craftsman living room, where Brenda, in a gorgeous dress-and-hairdo combo, sits on the couch and watches TV.  The doorbell rings because, along with Cindy and her constant phone-answering, that's all that ever happens on this show.

She peeks out the window, smiles, then opens the door adorably with a sunny, "Bonjour, travelers!"

Donna and Kelly stand on the porch, and following Brenda's greeting, Donna bursts into tears.  I would take both of their dresses behind a middle school and get them pregnant; their VERY 1992 hairstyles, which I unsuccessfully attempted to replicate dozens of times as a thoroughly unfashionable preteen with only a bottle of Rave hairspray to her name? Not at all.  Also: Tori was so good at this stuff in the early days.   A true underrated comedienne many times during the first four seasons.  Anyway, Kelly explains to Brenda that Felice is still making Donna go to Paris, even after Kelly's abandonment of the trip.  Of course Our Felice is.  Of course.  Probably so she can have the Manor to herself for some farewell dicking-down from the middest man who ever lived.  You're not giving up a guy that beige without a fight and one last au revoir with his undoubtedly disappointing dong.

Brenda brings the girls mugs of something, Donna saying, "I'm not blaming Kelly; I just wish she would've blown off the trip while my mom still could've gotten her deposit back," and then, turning to Kelly: "I think it's great that you're bonding with this new life force, but are you telling me this has nothing to do with Jake?" Really gonna need the hat tips to Joke to cease entirely up in this bitch.  That predator is West Hollywood's and its citizens' problem now.  Go clumsily slobber all over someone else's face and be gone.  Forever.

Donna moans that she can't do a whole summer in Paris by herself, and Brenda tells her that she'll make friends, then whips out her fluent French that's never been mentioned and purrs, "La ville de la lumiere.  La ville des jolies poules." Google tells me this translates to, "The city of light.  The city of pretty chickens," and because I'm both extremely dumb and extremely lazy, I will choose to believe this.  They continue to discuss Donna's Paris-aversion, Donna jokingly asking Brenda, "So, what are you doing after tomorrow?" Brenda's all, "Oh, yeah, right.  I'll be a stowaway in one of your suitcases...since I'm not talking to my parents, it'd be kinda hard to hit them up for the money to send me there."

Kelly, a mere 20 minutes away from the first hints of the start of her clandestine affair with Dylan - which, mind you, begin 20 SECONDS after Brenda boards the airport shuttle, like, she's not even out of the fucking parking lot WHAT IN THE ACTUAL - adds, "Plus, you'd have to leave Dylan." Donna whines, "What about me? I'm leaving David!" and Kelly speaks for us all, telling her, "Oh, this is different.  Because David is a non-entity and on the cusp of bringing us whatever is the opposite of Song of the Summer.  He should literally be taken out to sea and Big Pussy Style clipped after subjecting innocent eardrums to his non-talent and complete absence of shame.  Brenda and Dylan are living together.  They're making a statement.  A beautiful statement." She asks Brenda how it's going.

Brenda, tightly smiling through ALL the lies: "It couldn't be better."