Sharon's claim that the overexposure was not their doing, but rather the fact that people kept talking about them and doing press on them, continues to be proven disingenuous, as they take center stage during a big Super Bowl commercial this Sunday. Man, that family is getting paid. P. Diddy might soon indeed be calling Kelly for that date. Imagine the dowry.
Sharon's bedroom. Ozzy and Sharon play with the fat-ass gorgeous TV that pops out of their foot board. Like a little kid, Ozzy wants Sharon to keep lifting it up and down, and then, holy shit, rotate it 180 degrees! Goddamn, that's fucking awesome. I ain't never seen that shit on CRIBS. Jermaine Dupree must be pissed right now. Ozzy says, "The Bat Cave lives. Rock and roll." Ozzy goes on, "Watch this. It's cool." And Sharon tries to lift it again, and nothing happens. She hits buttons, but -- nothing. "Fucking hell," says Ozzy, his toy broken. No fucking Baking The Bread Channel.
Kelly and Bad Nanny sit in an office, going over a schedule of interviews and appearances and such for Kelly. Kelly yells that she already talked to all of them. Bad Nanny runs down the list, "No, no, no, no, no," saying she's wrong. Hee. Then Bad Nanny reveals that some dude is here to have Kelly take photos with her dogs for some dog calendar. "No! It's a dog book…no," she says. I don't blame her. Bad Nanny tries to Jedi mind trick her, reminding her that dogs are her life, but she'd much rather be doing something else, she says. Bad Nanny emails, "Kelly said no. Please do not make her sit and pose with the dogs." Kelly points out that Bad Nanny just emailed the wrong person. Kelly asks about a Vanity Fair thing. "It's not for the cover, is it?" she asks, foolish hope in her voice. (Although once Gretchen Mol and her nipples got on the cover, that pretty much lowered the bar for that former status-symbol gig.) "Then why the fuck are we flying someone out? Can't we just do it on the phone?" Kelly brats. Wow. I'd like to see someone unexpectedly bitchy do a session like this. Like watch Gwyneth bitch about New York Times articles and how Harvey Weinstein keeps wanting to play tennis. "No! God! His belly jiggles when he runs for his backhand. It's gross!" Bad Nanny says that it's a very important piece. Kelly hits Bad Nanny. Hee.
Jack comes in, and Kelly reveals that she has to go to New York tomorrow to finish one song. Jack wonders why they can't do it here, and Kelly goes into a faux-retarded voice, saying that her producer is there. They all wonder why she didn't go yesterday when she was supposed to, and Kelly brats that so many people don't need to be involved and she can do it herself. Yeah, right. Just like she handled the firing and paying-off of Little Drummer Girl. Right. Oh, wait, no. That was Sharon. Kelly fellates a bottle.
Short bus. Jack drives with someone, talking about a band called Delusion that he found eighteen months ago and they just now have their demo together. Driver says that it's not the album of the century, and Jack hits him, this time waiting only three minutes into the episode before he has some homoerotic pseudo-violent older male contact. The driver nearly rear-ends a car while pulling up to a light. I hate drivers who wait until the last minute to slam on their brakes. I also hate people who don't signal, but that's a different recap. The driver Boston-accents that the band is only recording an EP and they smoke "doobs" and Jack doesn't need to be a part of that. They're now an hour late.