Let me say, a real theme of this week is how big of a waste every dude on this show is. Is this a Nashville thing? Failed musicians at every turn who are still trying to make "it,” but don’t know how to make breakfast? The boyfriends and male cameos around the largely female cast of Very Cavallari certainly do their part to make Jay Cutler look like a damn king.
The other main motif of this week is pregnancy—who is, who was, how many times, who understands birth control (nobody), a real virility or bust bombardment. But the great news is there’s way more Jay than last week, so we are all pregnant with expectation.
Jay begins this week as most of us would like to: wandering into a walk-in closet. Kristin is packing for a trip to L.A., where she is co-hosting an Oscars pre-show and doing some media. Jay is not going. There is no impression given from Jay that he wants to go, but he does have some concerns.
“Who’s watching the kids?” He asks.
Without hesitation, our artful entrepreneur replies to the mother of his children, “I’ll send you my rates.”
In an off-screen interview Kristin is asked if she ever misses Jay when she travels. She laughs. It’s a good answer. Back in the closet, Kristin tells Jay she’s going to bed, on account of having to be up at the crack of dawn to catch her flight.
Jay nods by sort of inclining his head, “I’ll probably get up with you, have some coffee, a little me time. Get my mind right. And then dominate.”
While the cat’s away, Jay will play. Jaymo heads over to a friend’s place for dinner and drinks. We can tell it’s not Jay’s place because it looks like a regular sized apartment, albeit with a fire pit. The intelligence of dudes on this show continues to dazzle. One of Jay’s pals wonders aloud if eating a raw potato will kill you. Talk turns to the new house, of which Jay can barely contain his excitement.
“I’ve been looking at Nigerian dwarf goats.” He says.
“I can help you out there.” His buddy offers.
“You have a goat guy?” Jay asks.
“I have goats. I have Nigerian dwarf goats.” This guy agrees.
“You do not have Nigerian dwarf goats!” Another guy says, shocked to his core.
“Why do you have eight goats!” Jay shouts this, even though he was just talking about getting goats, maybe even eight of them.
“Listen,” the camera zooms on Jay’s goat friend, suddenly extremely serious, “you don’t want Nigerian dwarf goats if your purpose is to milk it. There’s other breeds that are specifically for getting the most milk.”
“Are they honestly from Nigeria?” The potato-phobic friend cuts in.
During a brief cut to Kristin in L.A. gabbing with a friend, we learn Jay has been doing some light reading. Namely, a GQ article with instructions about how to go down on a woman (admittedly I cocked my head so hard at the seeming delay in this knowledge being imparted to Jay that I gave myself whiplash). According to Kristin it’s “like, every time.” Once again, the threshold for dudes on this show seems to peak at primordial swamp.
Back in Nashville, Jay sits down to dinner with the dudes from before plus some new guys I swear just showed up. They are talking about kids. One guy has five of them.
“Let’s talk about the vasectomy,” the very fertile man says to Jay, who is mid-red wine chug. “‘Cause you had it, right? So you’re done?”
Jay nods, mouth full of wine.
“Should I do it, or just keep…?” Fertile man trails off.
“You don’t really lose your balls.” Another guys says. To Jay’s credit—I have a feeling this is all to Jay’s credit—his face, a wonderful melange of shock, disbelief and mild nausea, matches my own. I also want to mention there is a GIGANTIC carrot cake sitting in the middle of the table with a single slice cut out, yet nobody has gotten to dessert.
“Was this a mutual decision between you and Kristin?” The progeny-obsessed friend asks.
“What do you MEAN?” Jay has basically, verbally, flipped the table.
“I mean did she make you get a vasectomy?” The spermmonger presses.
“I don’t think that’s legal,” Jay replies, demurely. We cut to Kristin off-camera, who confirms that yes, after three children, she forced Jay into a vasectomy.
Back at the ranch, another friend asks in a much too concerned voice, “Do they shave your balls for you?”
“They touch it up,” Jay informs the group. “Then they take this little knife, makes a tiny little cut”—aside: Jay appears to be pantomiming holding a frog, so take from this what you will—“pulls out the,” he points to the potato-fearing, they-don’t-take-your-balls guy who responds without missing a beat, “Vas deferens.” “BOOM!” Jay nods, “Snips it, and then he burns both sides.”
“So there’s smoke!” Someone screams.
“It comes out your pee-hole?” Another asks.
“The smoke?” The fertility god asks.
Jay is holding his head in his hands now.
Jay’s best friend seems relieved, “I don’t have to worry about this.”
“Guys can’t get guys pregnant?” Jay asks. Hopefully (lord, hopefully), a joke.
“Dude, it’s 2018, probably in like five years you’re going to be getting a dude pregnant.” Offers the dude obsessed with getting people pregnant.
Jay FaceTimes Kristin while she is getting her hair and makeup done for an event and while he is en route to Uncommon James, to barge in on her staff. He wants to know who is there and if he can fire anybody. In a cut to Kristin we learn that Jay “lives for this shit.” This shit being terrorizing Kristin’s employees.
Jay exits his truck with purpose, strutting across the parking lot with a speed and posture not yet seen from him in the show.
“What’s the word?” he announces as he enters, his voice echoing around the mostly empty cavernous concrete space, “The boss is out of town and I’m making sure you guys are staying in line.”
“Whatcha doin’ today?” Reagan, Kristin’s assistant, asks Jay.
“Pretty much lookin’ at it,” Jay says, taking a seat, “overseeing this operation.” I should mention, he’s shouting. “Ladies, who do you think launched this empire?” Holding court, coffee aloft in one hand, he continues, “Have you guys ever thought about, like, doing a system?”
There is a system, he is told. Jay doesn’t believe it. From his perch on the big comfy white chair he begins pointing to where he thinks people should be, in order to make things more efficient. Jay makes more jobs than there are staff.
“I can’t be part of this anymore,” Jay says, standing and leaving after about twenty seconds.
Kristin returns! A startled Jay, seated at the kitchen island holding a NO PARKING sign (??) barks, “Who goes there?”
“Your worst nightmare.” Kristin answers.
Quietly, Jay murmurs, “That could be a lot of people.”
“How are you?” Kristin asks.
“Just thriving, man.”
“What’s been going on?”
“Just living. We saw you on TV, I think.”
Kristin has reached her Cut-off (get it?), “You think?”
Jay breaks into a rare, full-toothed smile, “Just kidding. We taped it!”
Kristin tells Jay she wants to take her staff on a little vacay before the store opens, and Jay begins to rub his fingers together rapidly, first like they might be cold, then itchy, then in the universal sign for money and making it. He is bummed she’s leaving again. Kristin reminds him of that time he was in Miami for five months. Jay concedes. You know this because even if his eyebrows are still furrowed, they are doing it in a conciliatory way.
This article originally appeared on VICE Sports US.