And cue the Ironic Segue Fairy, who cuts us straight into a close-up of Angry Keith, yelling at Taylor to go to sleep. She snots, he snorts, and eventually he gets her into bed. Incidentally, her pink radio pillow is really, really cute. When Taylor complains that she's not tired, Keith suggests that she spend the night lying awake "for hours and hours, wondering why life is so hard. That's what the rest of us do." Except, apparently, for me. I tend to lie awake for hours and hours trying to come up with phrases that include the word "dead" that also serve as a metaphor for the current week's episode. I've really got to get out more often. As his anger dissipates, Keith comes over to sit beside her on the bed. He offers to talk to her about anything that might be on her mind, but Taylor doesn't want to. He also suggests that they go easier on each other in the future, which prompts her to complain about the quality of toothpaste at his apartment. Whatever. At least that's the last of Taylor this week. Out in the living room, Keith joins Eddie on the sofa and complains that raising a child is more difficult that he thought it would be. That's totally why I'm sticking with my well-thought-out plan to just adopt a twenty-one-year-old someday. That way, I'll have someone to take care of me in my old age, but without all the pesky whining, borrowing of the car, or college tuition payments. It's foolproof, I tell you. Incidentally, are there any takers out there? Anyway, Eddie couldn't care less about Taylor, and he tries to cheer Keith up by licking his neck for a while. "I'm not in the mood," bitches Keith, pushing him away.
Back at the Formaldehyde Fortress, Ruth is cleaning her kitchen. But then The Tinkly Piano Of Personal Growth starts playing in the background, and she finds herself wandering through a completely empty version of the Fortress. She ends up in the sun room, and sees herself sleeping on the couch there. I guess this is supposed to be a dream sequence of some sort, but since The Round Mahogany Table Of Dramatic Life Revelations is clearly missing from background of the shot, I can't take it too seriously. Eventually, Ruth wakes up, presumably to go check on her foundations or some such.
Cut to the Brotherfucking Boudoir, where Brenda is still having trouble starting her novel. Perhaps she'd be a more effective writer if she weren't constantly holding her laptop with an eye towards making the Apple logo clearly visible to the camera. I'm just saying. Finally she gives up, and places a call to the hooker/massage client we met last week. Brenda invites herself out to lunch with the girl, despite the fact that it crosses "all these client/masseuse boundaries." Hmm. I thought the only client/masseuse boundary was the edge of the towel. Except on Mind of the Married Man, of course. That show had no fucking boundaries.