This is the week where we meet the new girl, another freaking blonde! Does no one in Orange County have unbleached tresses? Untanned skin? An ability to say no to ugly blouses? I still think we should move in with Mari and open a hair salon/spray tan/bible disco in Newport. It'll be a smash hit and you can even pay with A-mex!
Oh, GAWD, Slade is back. Miss Andy still has a sense of humor about the guy. Look at the first shot of him. It's his ASS.
Slade's still spending his days fetching Gretchen breakfast, walking her dogs and not paying child support. He's also giving Gretchen business advice which is about as smart as asking Old Rapey Eyes to date your daughter. Hey! Gretchen has smart dogs, why doesn't she put them on the Board of Directors of Gretchen Christine Byootay? There's a good chance that if you ask them yes or no questions, they'll be right about 50% of the time and that's batting it out of the park compared to deadbeat Slade.
And I didn't know that Gretchen pays him in sex. I honestly thought he made the equivelant of six figures in emasculation. She treats him like a piece of meat, which is more than he deserves since he spends his time telling her what color of pleather goes best with sunburst caftans while he should be out there picking out ties for businessmen in the gentlemen's section at Saks. GET A JOB! Ass.
He goes on his way after begging for compliments over his freshly shaven face. She likes him better scruffy which is good since most bums don't get to shave all that often. I hope he put her Venus back where he found it AND washed out all those grays.
That's pretty much it for Gretchen this week. She has a short discussion with her assistant over having her back when she gets drunk and acts a fool. How about not getting wasted around your employees, or are you paying her in cocktails and air time? I'm sorry, guys, but Gretchen is not living up to my expectations right now. I think I have to face the truth that she's only interesting when the other girls act jealous of her. On her own, she's as fun to watch as those bimbos on The Bachelor.
Speaking of no personality, we're off to Tamra's tiny apartment where she's flirting with Fernanda Lesbiana Fandango by shaking an automatic wine opener at her face. Fern mistakes it for a dildo, which would make sense if it wasn't the size of a rolling pin. Well, this is Tamra we're talking about, so who knows?
It's only the second episode and already Tammy Sue is repeating herself! Woman, will you please shut up about Simon ruining your life, for the love of God! He didn't hold a gun to your head and make you say all those awful things about Gretchen and Jeana! He didn't make you sleep in everyday and talk like a sailor, nor did he force you to grope him in public. I wonder, is anything her fault? Wasn't it Crackie she was blaming for her marriage woes, or was it the conflict between Simon and Ryan? No...... it was Jeana, right? All that Jeana DRAMA. Pfft.
Oh, look, real tears! Oh my gosh, she's never actually cried real liquid before. This is a first! I was going to say that The End is nigh until I realised she was crying FOR HERSELF. The poor thing is despondent over downsizing. She's apoplectic over losing her Faux Tuscan Manor! Not one word about the kids except that they haven't met Mommy's new boyfriend yet. No tears for little Sophie Richter or Simon's mini-me. This is Tamra's time after all, after all those years slaving over, slaving over....wait, what did she slave over? Right, NOTHING.
Oh, but Fern will make it all go away, they will celebrate together, and Tamra will be free to love, love, LOVE! And age, age, AGE!
Meanwhile, Crackie is getting ready to fly to Seattle with her sales team. She's away from home a lot, as per usual, and when their old pug died, the rest of the Crackie family got Donn a new one, the adorable Walter. He licks his new Daddy and doesn't pester him about filling his love tank. Donn barely registers that his wife has left. A lot of people live like this, many more than you might imagine. Sad, but true.
It's time to meet the new ho, and if you're like me you already did a little check-in by watching her Cribs episode on the Bravo website, complete with it's lovely 'floor duh lee' accents everywhere. I was kinda pissed that they didn't even try to get a brunette on this show. A person can only stare at so many nasty urine colored flat-ironed weaves, and don't say Fernanda because she doesn't count. She's not an actual housewife and her sole purpose is to bolster Tamra's ego.
So, this Peggy Tanous person is friends with Mallard and has girls aged 6 months and two years named after cities their mother has never visited but has seen on the Travel Channel. She has also turned her backyard into a Disney version of what Nero's courtyard might have looked like if it had been brought to life by a gay porn set designer. Yes, THAT fabulous.
Mallard brings the GDTwins over for a play date. I don't see Jimbo Jr. anywhere so he must be at his Ed Hardy preschool, practicing slurping Jell-o shots off the bellybuttons of little Caleigh and Tiffany Nicole. I am counting down the days until we see that kid wearing a rhinestone belt buckle and Daddy's Gucci shades, throwing up gang signs and carefully rolling a fresh hundred dollar bill around a wad of singles, just like dear old Dad.
But right now it's all about the ladies and their little one's growth and progress. It's all very competitive in a really adolescent way, 'My precious little girl can count up to 30 carats! Yeah, well mine can scribble the Louis Vuitton logo without even looking, and oopsy! She just ate her own sock but that's okay, she's an over-acheiver. I bet your can't even eat her own boogers yet.'
Yeah, the conversation was that stupid. Peg Leg's daughter wins, though. I could understand what she was saying. Little Melanoma's speech was so garbled I feared she might be deaf.
Then Peg Leg says that little London got signed to a modeling agency. Seriously? What the Hell for? She's a baby, let her be one! There will be plenty of opportunities for her to be a photo-shopped Facebook 'model' when she's grown.
Mallard took little Jimmy to the same agency and concluded that it was too much of a bother and too far of a drive to make, no doubt in light of her reduced nanny situation, poor thing. What does Peggy say? She practically calls her a liar and says that they probably didn't accept little Junior, so Alexis is making excuses. Uh-oh! Them's fighting words! I bet Jimbo Junior can pop a collar with the best of them, not to mention rock a mean Affliction hoodie. Besides, Mallard wouldn't lie, it's a sin!
I smell a serious rift in their future and it couldn't have happened to a better hypocrite. I hope we get a knock-down drag-out fight with dueling foreclosures, only because I love them both so much. Oy.
Briana, Yay! She arrives in Seattle for a get-away with Crackie, heads straight up to the suite and into bed. She's coming off a 13 hour shift, and kudos to her. She WORKS, just like her Mom. Mom, on the other hand, is wide awake and being called, "psychotic." I know, it was actually "psychotically persistant,' but a girl can laugh at the inference, can't she? The guy that calls her this gives her an award for 'Most Smothering Boss' or was it 'Number One First-Rate Ball Breaker?' It was 'Top Recruiter' if you must know, and I'm extra sad about it. The last time she accepted an award, she fell on her ass. This time, nothing. FRACK, not even a hobble.
Later, everybody parties in the suite while Briana sleeps. Someone asks if this is a bad idea and Crackie goes into the room and coos at her, "Hi, Princess. Wanna wake up and play in Seattle?" She covers her in back rubs and whispers, "come play with us," as creepy music fills my head along with the twins from The Shining.
Uuhuhuh! I just got shivers! It's appropriate because Peggy's back. She and her hubby are going shooting. How original. What a thrill!
Hey, Bravo! Hire some new producers because the next time I see an anorexic chick at a gun range, I am mailing you my iTunes bill. I want a refund for every episode you continue to churn out this tripe.
It's the same concept as Gretchen dating Slade to prove she isn't a gold digger. These bitches go to shooting ranges to prove to the viewer that they're bad-ass. Add in the fact that most of these husbands are wanna-bes themselves who would probably piss their pants if ever confronted with the need to actually use the damn thing, and you have a perpetual stream of wasted bullets.
Peggy talks about her husband being a Renaissance man that can cook and sew, as he interviews that when he first saw her, he thought she was a gold digger. HA! But she saw that he had his own limo, smelled of the right after shave, he agreed to overlook her weird chin and the fact that her upper lip never moves and the rest is history! Except one thing. If you have to say you're hot, you are probably NOT. Let that be our lesson for today.
She also pulls out the same line Slurry used to use about how difficult it is to survive in the crazy competitive world of Orange County, and how much easier it is with the right husband. Is the news of her foreclosure any surprise after hearing that? Geez, these women sure do love to telegraph their pathologies, don't they?
Tamra put her old tits back in. She looks practically deformed. I want to ride her at the water park or play Marco Polo with her chest. Instead I watch as Marco, Simon's look-alike, takes her around to look at houses, the first of which belonged to Eddie and his first wife. Now why would he do that? My guess is that Tamra asked him to. Sick.
She ends up choosing the one we saw in her new Cribs episode, which she gets because she 'always gets what she wants.' Here's hoping she didn't have to dole out too many BJs to get it, Salooch!
Drinking with Crackie is like having another full time job. For Briana, it has the added charm of being completely embarrassed as her mother tries to set her up with every single swinging dick that walks by. The only guy she doesn't bother with is the guy she tells to cross his legs properly and that's because he's GAY.
Briana hits the nail on the head when she says that her Mother wants to be the one to find her next boyfriend so that she can lord it over her and control her even more. Wow, maybe Crackie does realise that she's annoying. She's scared to death that Briana is going to leave her, and with good reason. Briana loves Seattle and wants to move there along with Danielle, Crackie's office manager, to get away from her. She actually said that. That's gotta hurt. I'm afraid to read Crackie's blog. It's going to be full of passive aggressive wishes for her future happiness, and how Mommy loves her, no matter what!
They go bowling and some guy keeps touching a very drunken Crackie. Both Danielle and Briana try to get it to stop but this is Crackie. Megalomaniacs don't exactly listen very well, even when other people are clearly right. I did not like this scene at all. That guy was skeevy and had date rapist written all over him.
The vignette this week is so boring! Watching Gretchen put drops in her dog's ears as her assistant holds them? Not riveting. I know, SHOCK. To add insult to injury, Tammy Sue makes a joke about Gretchen needing an assistant to hold Slade's balls. Funny she ain't.
It's morning in Seattle and Crackie is up at the crack of dawn. How does she do it? She must have a hollow leg and amphetamines coursing through her veins. She wakes up her minions and slaps her assistant on his Speedo'd ass which is okay because she's The Mom and The Boss. She makes the poor kid order some ridiculous scrambled egg concoction and it arrives just as they are leaving. This, after the chaos of sharing a suite with four other people getting ready at the same time. Good lord, I sure hope they are properly compensated, and not just in spray tans.
They embark on a rented yacht drinking rented drinks and marveling at the upside-down Blue Angels flying overhead. It's Sea Fair in Seattle and girls flash their titties and men pass roofie-free margaritas from boat to boat. This is paradise to a girl from a roofie over-run county, and Briana hatches her plot with Danielle. I pity whoever's in earshot when Crackie finds out. I pity the neighbors, the squirrels, the birds and the lawn ornaments. It's been a while since we've seen Hurricane Crackie. We've been complacent for far too long.
Jesus loves some tight buns so Mallard agrees to a yoga session with Tamra. They stretch, they wiggle, they heave their breasts. Then, cocktails! DUH. Mallard inundates Tamra with questions about her new man. It's too soon, no one's met him, Tamra wants to make a splash, you just know it, and is saving it for next week when we get the queasy big reveal. Why, she hasn't even told Crackie yet. Imagine that!
Mallard files that information away for another day and tells Tammy Sue not to worry, she's not one to gossip. What would Pastor Disco Ball say? Gossip is evil. Only harlots and hooligans gossip, not proper for a Jesus loving plastic surgery orgasm induced gal like Alexis, Hell no!
They talk about the party and Mallard tries again to be the voice of reason by saying that both Tamra and Gretchen say they won't to move on, but it's only lip service. Nobody forced Tammy to put that evil eye hat on, or did I miss something and Jeana was there?
I hate that she's making sense. Damn.
Talk turns to Jimbo and Mallard Mouth's new dress line. Mallard says he's cool with her cashing in on her Housewives fame and I believe her. He probably used it as collateral with the bank! I sure hope whorewear sells well in Newport or it's back to court you go! Oh, and Mallard totally got a new nose. It's good, but she totally got a nose job, just like Crackie's assistant said she should, HA!
Someone tell me who this Bev Cleaver is? Is she the Patron Saint of Boobie Tops or something? Was she in the Old Testament or The New? Oh, she meant June Cleaver. Silly me! She was a wonderful home-maker but she wasn't exactly a sterling role model for me-time. What did Alexis call it last year, Lexi-Time? She and Tamra have that to bond over at least, because this next bit doesn't exactly have them seeing eye to eye.
See, Tamra is not content to just see herself released from the shackles of marital servitude, she wants Mallard to free herself as well. She tries to make the argument that Simon and Jimbo are not really all that different. In fact, they are the Orange County version of Dead Ringers. Too bad they aren't homicidal gynecologists. Now THAT would be interesting. Instead, they're just your run of the mill controlling manipulative assholes.
Oh, and I doubt that Simon said that the Bellino's weren't her friends. He meant everyone on the show when he said that, and he was right! None of these bitches hang out when filming stops, none! If you need any more proof that these women don't give a flying fig about each other, just listen to Tamra place odds on Mallard's marriage lasting. Kuh-lassy.
Tamra really needs to stop trying to force her own situation on someone else. That's pretty awful and under-handed and it makes Jimbo look right for not wanting his wife hanging out with her. Seriously! Do you know how hard it was for me to type that last sentence? They have little kids! If Sister Mary Mallard Lips wants to revel in being filed back into line when she strays, let her. It's hard to find a decent pawn broker to marry you when you play hide & seek with your brains everyday.
I'll see you next week when we meet Eddie the Cougar Banger and watch Peggy pee in a cup. Does botox show up in urine? I guess we'll find out!
As usual, iTunes is being a bitch, and does anyone know where I can get a better quality picture? iTunes is so blurry. Anyway, I just wanted to give you a place to vent, especially those of you that gave up FB for lent. You know who you are!
XOXO,
Twunty McSlore
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