Once again, Babbling Brooks Brandi had to blab someone else’s business. In this case, it was Kyle’s. We see them in the café getting ready to get krunk with some pot cake.
Brandi becomes visibly irritated. She’s upset because Kyle is playing coy around the subject of marijuana. During the confessional, Brandi states, “It’s just exhausting seeing these women pretend to be something they’re not.”
It didn’t take long for Atom Bomb Brandi to drop one
“The last time I smoked pot was when I was with you [points to Kyle]. So let’s not pretend we’re angels.”
Kyle then tells Brandi that she doesn't want to publicly indulge in pot because of her kids, “It’s a parenting choice.” That’s clear enough, right? Unfortunately, logic doesn't reside anywhere within Brandi’s brain. She see’s Kyle’s explanation as contradictory.
By the time they leave the café and are heading back to the hotel, Box Car Brandi is all tuned up and goes on an illogical tangent: “You guys can all have a fucking opinion about me. You can say whatever the fuck you want. But God forbid I tell the truth about you, then the world ends because you’re a great parent!”
Oh dear. She has missed the entire point. What Brandi seems not to realize is the fact that her VERY PUBLIC ridiculous behavior is displayed for all the world to see—INCLUDING her kids.
Yes, the slutty public drunkenness, tampon strings blowing in the night air, slurring and slithering all over the Bravo shoots---is not kept private, away from her kids. So, when the ladies comment on her very display of hot messery—it is NOT the same as outing Kyle. It’s apparent that Kyle keeps her private life private and her kids are not made privy to certain things. Outting someone’s personal business (what Brandi did) is NOT the same as commenting on someone’s public behavior (what the ladies have done). Watching this segment proves that Brandi is just plain AMSTER-DUMB
More to come about the rest of this tripped out trip.
I love entertainment viewed from my couch. Wait, I don't have a couch. Viewed from my desk chair. My life has been as colourful as confetti: from high school drop out homeless teen gang banger thug-ette, to dead-end minimum wage job zombie, to 3 time college honours graduate (two bachelors degrees--magna cum laude, and one masters degree--honours). I even made it all the way to law school, but it proved too expense for my kitty wallet. So, here I am, a high school teacher and interventionist for "at-risk" kids. I may not have two nickles to rub together, but I do have my two cents. And off we goooo!