Kourtney and Khloé Take Miami, and a Little Bit of Our Souls

So while every other registered blogger spent Sunday night with the premiere of Mad Men, True Blood, or the ol' Adult Swim standbys, Riptide watched the debut of Kourtney & Khloé Take Miami. Don't ever say we're not committed to our jobs. We can't promise to do this every week, but for you, this one time, we've watched it so you don't have to. 

Poor Kourtney and Khloé Kardashian, try as they might, will never be as famous as middle sister, Kim. Which gives them ample time to spend the summer in Miami Beach opening a Washington Avenue outlet of their boutique Dash. 

There are $300 candy-colored minidresses to be steamed, $200 pairs of jeans to be hung, $50 bedazzled T-shirts to be folded, and just so much grueling labor to be done that its surprising the girls find time to swing by the Collection in Coral Gables to pick up their Jaguar and Porsche rental cars. I'm not sure if the sisters are actually renting the cars or getting them for free for saying "the Collection" 500 times on national television. Either way, it's only a small condolence before they head back to the high-pressure, sweatshop-like conditions of preparing a frilly boutique. 

I'm sure their hands were callused, their feet swollen, their backs practically broken, and possibly a bit of their souls dead each day owing to the work. Work that Kim Kardashian could never possibly appreciate. Which Khloé points out when they pick Kim up from the airport. 

See, Khloé has this thing where she's so blatantly jealous of Kim's fame -- even though she wouldn't be semi-famous herself if Kim wasn't famous. And why is Kim famous? Oh right, by having a sex tape "leaked" and hanging out a few times with Paris Hilton, herself mostly famous for a sex tape being "leaked." So it eats away at what is left of Khloé's soul that Kim is a bit more famous for nothing than she is. 

Khloé, dear, take solace in the fact that you're probably the most famous sister of a girl who did a sex tape because she was friends with someone who did a sex tape. You're one of a kind.

Alas, Khloé is so upset that Kim is going to swoop in and gobble up all the fame and keep it in her ass. She stores fame in her ass, you know. That's why it's so big.

So there's an exclusive party at the Clevelander to which the girls' PR agent, Jonathan Cheban (Lizzie Grubman's old partner in PR crime, of all people), has invited the VIP of Miami's media. Except us. *Tears gently rolling down face.* Anyway, do you think Michael Cohen from Miami Social was there? He is only the most important celebrity journalist in town, or was he blacklisted for calling Kim Kardashian a reality whore? Was Ariel there to support his BFF Kim? 

Problem is Kim and Khloé are in a vicious fight, but luckily a supposed act of vandalism at the store is an important plot point. The producers couldn't have planned for this kind of "reality" magic, or maybe they did -- who knows. Kim and Khloé kiss and make up, and Kim, in four-inch heels, not only covers the graffiti with paint but also the wound in their relationship. So poetic. 

Also, Khloé has a radio show. (Remember? It was on Fridays on Y100 from midnight to 3 a.m.) The TV show never specifies she has the graveyard shift, but whatever. Anyway, her cohost, Terrence from BET, rides her like a horse down Ocean Drive and then they make out. Also, there is a buttplug involved! 


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Kyle Munzenrieder