Camille was born to dance. She was born to paddle board. She was born to talk about the gorgeousness of her breasts and her tennis partner's balls. I'm guessing she was not born with that strange accent—a little bit snooty, a little irritated—which only gets worse when people dare suggest she stand in the shadow of Kelsey Grammer. "Dohn't thwow jahbs at me becuz I wull stahnd up four mysulfuh," she warned. And by standing up for herself she means she will either get a pinched look on her face and leave a party early, swearing that guy friends are so much better than girls, or she will bump and grind until your husband's face goes slack. Stay classy Paul. While Adrienne's eyes narrowed as much as her botox would allow, her flushed husband gave Camille a five dollar bill for her butt-to-the-floor moves.
Yes, it was Vegas time. The Maloofs own that town, or so says Lisa. And the Real World. Adrienne wanted to show her ladies a good time and what better way than with gratis suites and killer seats to a Jay Z concert. Obviously, these women are way back fans and have all pre-ordered their advance copies of Decoded. "Do you even know one song?" Kyle's daughter wondered. "No, but I know that he's cool. And that he's married to Beyoncé." If that wasn't enough to bruise a rap fan's heart, then it surely crumpled at the sight of the women wagging their heads and making manicured gun fingers during the show.
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