‘Very Cavallari’ recap: Jay Cutler goes deep — inside a hen

Like a zoned-in Jay Cutler connecting with Alshon Jefferey in the end zone in the mid-2010s, Episode Two of Season Two of “Very Cavallari” was deeply penetrating.

In more ways than one.

Yes, this is a TV show — but if I had to assign an MPAA-like rating, complete with reasons FOR the rating, to this particular episode, I’d go with:

“RATED ‘ADULTS ONLY’ FOR FRANK DISCUSSION OF ORAL SEX TECHNIQUES, COUPLES HAVING COLONICS TOGETHER — AND THE AVIAN REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM.”

I’m pretty sure this is the first program in television history to feature a scene in which two men talk about a hen’s …

And we’ll leave it at that.

When Kristin Cavallari tells her best friend Kelly, “I want to have sex all the time,” during a road trip in California, it’s an almost quaint and romantic moment compared to some of the other discussions in this episode.

We open in Tennessee, with “JAY, KRISTIN’S HUSBAND” (as he’s always identified in the graphics) in his usual, unkempt uniform of backwards baseball cap and T-shirt as Kristin packs for a photo shoot in Palm Springs, California.

Acting as if the real-world logistics haven’t already been locked in, Jay asks if he’ll be coming along for the trip. Kristin delivers the “news” Jay won’t be coming along, and the former Bear says he’s “basically the housewife” and “doesn’t feel good about it.”

Jay does NOT try to sell this performance.

As Kristin sets out for California, we cut to the latest drama brewing at her Uncommon James store, where there’s “shipping chaos,” according to Brittainy, the head of operations. In one instance, a box was sent out with nothing inside the box, are you kidding me!

A Colby and a Kelsey are also part of the Uncommon James drama.

Brittainy and Colby and Kelsey and Kelly, oh ‘y’!

Kristin arrives in Los Angeles for the specific purpose of getting her hair done before she heads to the photo shoot in L.A. Enter Justin Anderson, “CELEBRITY HAIR COLORIST,” as he’s identified in the graphics.

Does that mean Justin is a celebrity thanks to his skills as a hair colorist — or is he a colorist who works on the hair of celebrities?

One assumes the two go hand-in-hand.

In any case, how great is it that someone can break through the ranks of all the colorists and wannabe-colorists in the world and become a CELEBRITY HAIR COLORIST, and I say that without a trace of cynicism or condescension. Good for you, Justin Anderson!

My favorite thing about Justin as he goes about his craft and works on K-Cav is his battle-tested, leather-strapped, protective apron, which makes him look like one of those disturbingly talented, you-never-know-when-you-might-have-to-make-your-own-Yemeni-dagger contestants on “Forged in Fire.”

K-Cav and her friend Kelly embark on a road trip from L.A. to Palm Springs. They keep talking about how it’s a super-long road trip.

I think the drive from Chicago to Champaign covers more distance, but OK.

Kristin reminds Kelly the two of them have “had tubes up our butts in Palm Springs together.” She tells Kelly about getting side-by-side colonics with Jay about four months after they met.

Cut back to the farm in Tennessee, with Jay and his buddy Chuy discussing the, um, inner workings of the hen.

And then back to Cali, and a get-together with Kristin and her friends featuring some extremely frank talk about this one thing, and how one feels about dealing with this one thing.

Yeesh.

I did not care one whit about the Uncommon James “drama.” At one point I found myself reaching for the FF option, but then I realized I was watching in real time, so I couldn’t fast forward.

Of course, the manufactured “tension” between K-Cav and J-Cut is just as ridiculous and staged, e.g., the scene in which Kristin returns home from the photo shoot and says to Jay, “So do you want to hear about Palm Springs?” and “How’d it go here, did you survive with the kids?,” as if this is their first communication in a week.

Same goes for the hijinks involving a certain pet goat. There’s not a single moment in which we believe this particular subplot in any way reflects any kind of reality.

But any time Farmin’ Jay is onscreen, it’s a touchdown.