Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall...

Reza is "Whore-ified!"

So, listen, what was I thinking? I was either feeling extraordinarily amibitious and full of myself or super-drunk. What was I doing answering the door in a towel? I look like MJ wearing a bikini. Oh my God. I'm whore-ified. Whore-ified. Not with an "h," but W-H-O-R-E-ified. WHORE-IFIED.

Then my old ass is going to a club, fist-pumping like I'm in Jersey, popping bottles, licking armptis, and making out with anyone that would make out with me? I need therapy. Actually I'm in therapy. I need to fire my therapist and hire a new therapist cause clearly the s---'s not working. Oh my Gpd. The Shahs of Sunset is over. I"m moving to Portland. It'll be the Shahs minus Reza. I need to go into the Witness Relocation Persians are Never Going to Talk to Me Program.

Then, I go to the Tehran drinks party, and people are telling me Tehran is [MJ's]cousin. I don't have any cousins that aren't my cousins. Do you? Cousins are cousins and friends are friends in my life. There are no cousin friends in my world.

So we're there, her ass is there, looking like a 10-pound sausage stuffed into a five-pound casing telling Lilly she shouldn't be wearing that outfit. Bitch, do the mirrors in your house talk to you and tell you you look good? Cause if they do, they're lying to you. Like, oh my God. Then I give a toast, and I exclude her, and you guys see her chunky butt walking down the street, thinking I'm being mean when actually she's the one always throwing me under the bus. I'm just stronger than she is.

I'm still thinking about the jelly rolls hanging over the towel when I went to the door. What was i thinking? Oh my God. That is the worst of the worst. And did I spray on, like, PAM, on my face or something? Like, I was greasy as hell. Can you guys even see me or did I blur the screen? Oh my God.