OK, so I’m not going to lie to you. If you HAAAAAATED SV Confidential, you won’t enjoy “The Sweet Life.” If however, you are like me and cannot tear yourself away from some CRAZY-ASS SHIT, there is plenty for you to “WTF?” over.

Elizabeth’s biological clock: Seriously, this bitch’s ovaries are in overdrive. I am surprised she is not poking holes in BPattz’s condoms (Gold-digging 101).

An inexplicable mention of the Watusi

Spawn of Jessica: Who we really don’t see, since his nanny takes care of his ass 24/7, although he does cover Jessica in actual feces, so there’s that.

The physical description of Todd’s fling: She sounds like something straight out of Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Bieber.

2 Guys, 1 Cup: So, apparently Steven and Aaron mixed sperm and inseminated a surrogate mom, who sounds like a bi0tch (or at least has “bitch eyes”). Is it wrong that I hope she shows up later in the series like the second (third?) coming of crazy Margo (or like this batshit bitch)?

Attachment-parenting Aaron: Y’all, Aaron Dallas has been hanging out with the granola mom crowd.

Easy Annie, attorney to the stars: I think she’s defending Lindsay Lohan over a coochie-flashing incident or something.

MOAR LILA: Not only is there more Lila, but she picks a portion of her plot line straight out of “The Room.” (YOU ARE TEARING ME APART, LILA!)

Concern troll Liz: “Oh, hai, potential rape victim! Let me give you the LIZ WAKEFIELD STARE OF CONCERN.”

Bruce Patman gets roofied: Or woozy from, you know, food poisoning.

The first three e-books are out now; the next three will be released over the next three Sundays. Thanks to Macmillan/St. Martin’s Press for providing advance review copies of “The Sweet Life” and “The Sweet Life 2: Lies and Omissions.” Oh, and they are $1.99, which is I think what you used to pay for a SVH book back in the day, so you can feel all retro while you download a book to your magical e-reader.

So. I interviewed Francine Pascal. And she was kind enough to answer questions from an asshole like me. I had visions of throwing up a screenshot of my phone (Incoming call from: FRANCINE, BITCHES!), but alas, she was in France (of course!) and we had to do it over email. I am, all joking aside, very appreciative of her willingness to answer my dumb questions. Her answers!

“I’m so glad Boyd told the police where Maria was,” Elizabeth said, shivering in spite of the warm sun. “If they hadn’t gotten there when they did…”

“Don’t think like that, Liz,” Jessica said, shaking her head.

“I just can’t get that image out of my mind,” Elizabeth said. “If they hadn’t gotten there when they did, there’s no telling how many pancakes she would have eaten!” Come on, pancakes are awesome

Everyone in the courtroom gasped. “Boyd? What kind of fucking name is that?” Bruce cried.

“Totally redneck,” Jessica assured him.

“Who the fuck is that?” Elizabeth said.

The courtroom burst into chaos as the doors opened and a man who looked just like Bruce was escorted to the witness stand by two police officers. As he took his seat, he and Bruce caught eyes, and Jessica could practically feel the hatred radiating from Bruce. Even trashier than cousinbro

“Here, give me your watch and your barrettes,” Jessica hissed, trying to take the objects without drawing attention to the twins. She quickly pinned back her hair and clipped the watch onto her wrist. “How do I look?”

“Like me,” Elizabeth whispered. She gave her twin a shaky smile. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Jessica said dramatically. “I’m an actress.”

As she walked to the stand, Jessica willed her legs forward, even though they felt like two lead blocks that were holding her down. She and Bruce passed, just inches from each other. He looked into her eyes, searching for some kind of sympathy. Finding none, Jessica could pinpoint the split second he realized it was Jessica and not Elizabeth who was going to take the stand. She could practically feel the fear radiating off of him.

Don’t worry, Brucie, she thought with a smirk. I won’t rat you out. Twin switch in action

“I can’t believe you pulled out the bird thing!” Bruce exclaimed, pacing back and forth in front of Ned Wakefield’s desk. “Does everyone really need to know about that?”

“Bruce, you have to understand what my strategy is here,” Ned argued, flipping open the file folder that held all of his notes on the case. “I barely understand it myself. But we’re trying to paint you as a harmless, non-date-rapey kind of guy.”

“All right, so a man who’s scared of birds is unlikely to be a date rapist,” Bruce said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “What else have you got?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Ned said. “We could bring up your intentions of opening up the Patman Date Rape Crisis Center. I know it was all Elizabeth’s idea and that you’re not too into it, but the idea is so crazy, it just might work.” Ned kicks ass

Bruce glanced nervously over his shoulder at the twins. It was the most worried Elizabeth had ever seen him. He looks even more worried than that time we saw a hummingbird hovering outside of his office window at Patman Canning, Elizabeth thought. I think he seriously thought it was going to bust through the glass and peck our eyes out!

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ned continued, “I ask you: Would a man afraid of birds be capable of date rape? By the end of this trial, I’m confident you will come to the same conclusion that I have: No, a man afraid of birds doesn’t have the balls to commit date rape.”

Wow, it’s almost like Dad read my mind, Elizabeth thought. That’s kind of creepy.

Jessica giggled a little bit louder and shifted in her seat as their father took his seat back at the defense table. “Birds!” she repeated, laughing. “I lied: This is the funniest shit I’ve heard all week.” An obscure pop culture reference

“BFFs,” Amy repeated. “Is that some kind of code for something?”

“Best friends forever, or best fucking friend, something like that,” Elizabeth said. “But that’s not relevant to the accusations that have been made against Mr. Patman.”

“So you’re fucking?” Amy asked, looking down at her notes and nodding. “…and weeping?”

“For the last time,” Bruce said evenly, “I am not the Sweet Valley date rapist.”

“He’s really not,” Elizabeth piped up. “Officer, I know this may be none of my business, but that’s never stopped me from interfering before. And I can say with about 60 percent certainty that Bruce is not the Sweet Valley date rapist.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said in an exasperated tone. “I’ve been trying to tell this asshole that for the past five minutes.”

“Don’t you know who he is?” Lila demanded of the police officer. “He’s Bruce Fucking Patman!” BPattz, yo

Sure enough, at the next turn, there was Ken’s Toyota wrapped around a tree, smoke pouring out from under its hood. Todd slammed on the brakes, bringing his car to a stop in the middle of the road and jumping out.

He ran toward Ken’s car, the sharp pellets of rain pelting his face. Please be OK, Ken, he hoped. Please be all right.

Todd could feel the heat of the engine fire as he approached the Toyota. Throwing up one arm to shield his face, Todd moved cautiously toward the car. Any second now, this thing could blow sky high, he thought as he choked on the acrid smoke. It filled his lungs, making it impossible to breathe.

Reaching the driver’s side door, Todd hesitated for a split second before yanking it open. Ken was slumped over the steering wheel, his eyes closed and his face pale. That “fatal” night