What is The Hills? Is it comedy? Is it tragedy? Is it some Paula Vogel dream play mix of the two? I'm not quite sure. This season of the MTV Los Angeles reality gloop is continuously mystifying, as it strikes chords of utter falsehood and mundanity one minute, and then little trillings of truth and feeling the next. It's like we're teetering between two concert venues, one where KT Tunstall is warbling tonelessly, the other where Joni Mitchell is pouring her scratched heart out all over the stage. Know what I'm saying? No? Oh, who cares. We'll pick apart last night's episode after the jump. Oh to be a fly nowhere on those walls. You don't need to be, anyway! There are the cameras. There they are swirling around Audrina and her latest boy, an Australian lad named Cody or Colin or Colt or Cobalt or Coxswain or Catastrophe or Carlsbad Caverns or Crispix or something. You see, Audy is sad about Justin Bobby, the lurking on-again-off-again feet to her perpetual doormat. So she's decided to step out with other fellows, namely this boy from Oz with tattoos and who did nice things like look her in the eye and show up for scheduled dates. Just imagine! Lauren sagely knew Carburetor to be just the right Kangaroo to hop in Audrina's pouch, if only she knew that too! Instead we were brought to a windblown, sun-splashed Malibu pool party where Lauren and Whitney gazed sedately while Audrina flirted with Corbin Bernsen in the pool—all the while you could hear the distorted toot-TOOT-toot organ grinder music emanating from the various holes in her face, creating a sonogram of the grim Dark Carnival Barker Justin Bobby. Frankie Delgado, a person whose existence has never quite been satisfactorily explained to me (not even by his shambling clusterfuck of an embarrassingly quickly canceled reality series Twentyfourseven), had to jump in the mix and be all "yo, blonde girls who won't sleep with me! I mad invited Justin Bobby to Cabo, hella. Ill. Fresh. Frankie. Zima. Boyyyy. Dope. Ill. My boy's gran' paps invented Toaster Strudels, yo. Tight. Wait, check it. I seem to have misspoke previously. I illed in error. My boy's dusty old gran' paps invented frozen burritos. Siiiiick!" So what was Audrina to do? She'd already invited Carl's. Jr. to Cabo, too. Both boys couldn't come!! But Justin Bobby made her so mad and sad, she explained to Frankie and Doug, who seriously couldn't give two shits what this crazy bitch was yapping about. Audrina apparently didn't even know what she was yapping about because she later guzzled white wine with JB in what will live in infamy as the Sexiest. Hills. Scene. Ever. Well not really because it was sort of oily and gross, but Audrina took her top off and swam around coquettishly and then Justin Bobby disrobed and hopped into the pool and they mashed genitals. JB said that if he went to Cabo he'd be using his "hall pass," meaning he planned to slither his way into some senoritas' pantalones with complete impunity. Audrina meekly agreed. It was sad and decidedly unsexy and I just felt bad for everyone involved. Speaking of feeling miserable, there were Heidi and Holly and Spencer doing their hellish roundelay that no one cares about. Ron Perlman wants the girl with the big teeth out! That flat tire with the blonde hair doesn't know what to do! I don't even remember how it was resolved! Was it resolved? Did the one with no job get a job? Oh wait. None of them have jobs. I has a confuse. Spencerina showed up at some point, at that sad coffee shop that rents itself out to the reality show. Things were said. And I looked at Spencer. I really looked at him and I realized why he's so off-putting. It's because somewhere, deep under that plastic veneer, under that silly rich white boy balla bravado (why does that exist? where does that come from?), lies the tremulous beating heart of a very unhappy soul. Take another look at Spencer. As long and hard as you can stand to. You'll see what I mean. Spencer is deeply, deeply unhappy. Unhappy that this is what he's reduced to, mugging and twirling his mustache in the B-plot melodrama of a reality show. Not quite the caviar dreams you'd hoped for, huh Pratt? Go to therapy, move to Oregon, get a dog. You'll be happy you did for the rest of your life. Anyway, then the episode ended. Next week they go to Cabo. Should be completely uninteresting. Oh, and, I'm at my folks' place in Boston and they don't have DVR which means that good Christ I was subjected to these hideous people that yap at me during the commercials and then after the show. Are you aware of these people? This sad, definitely-older-than-she's-trying-to-look lady and her disastrous Hindenburg of a male cohost? With his shitty glasses and hideous shirt? You know who I'm talking about, the people who debase themselves beyond recognition for that Hills Aftershow. Oh it's a high holy disaster. My eye is still twitching. (No, actually it is. Should I see a doctor?) Um, ok. Recap over. I watched an episode of Degrassi last night that featured Natasha Bedingfield. She sang "Unwritten." Which means I heard it twice last night. That says something. But I'm not quite sure what.