Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Real Housewives of Orange County Recap: It Takes Discipline

Whether you are growing a successful business or trying to make your marriage last, you need a healthy dose of hard work and discipline, not to mention a mean left. 
Oh, Crackie! How we could have used your spanking talents when Slurry's kids were running amok! Don't let it go to waste again. Take a swing at the producers next time and wake them up into writing some decent scenarios. I am nodding off over here!

I swear the dog fell off the bed while we were watching. The thud almost drowned out the other dog's snores.

Remember how Crackie almost sold the Lake Havasu house so she could buy a boat? Well, She didn't. She kept the place so drunks in Arizona could use her head as football target practice, and for that we are grateful. 

Instead she is renting one so she can spend more time annoying her neglected family. Why did she even bother? All she does is frown and bitch and moan and talk shop with her real family, her employees. She doesn't even get excited by the sight of Donn in a Captain's hat. She barely tolerates the guy and I'm kind of shocked that she even sat next to him.

Where's a college kid with bad aim when you need one?

She then criticizes a guy for fishing in the middle of the day. She says, "Why isn't he working? Why is he doing that? Who does that?" "Why would you do that when you can just go down to the market and get one?"

Well, Crackie. How do you think the fish get there? It's a job called being a fisherman.

So shut up, he's WORKING.

Michael tells her that it's called 'having a hobby' and everyone on the boat tells her that she needs one. Well, she used to sew and knit, you know. Now her hobby is WORK. Woman, work is not a hobby! You don't hear me yelling at people, "I have to sew!" when they ask me to go to a party, now do you? Not even in the middle of the day. I show up and I have fun. I do NOT show up and then remind people that are drinking that their father is an alcoholic. I would just love to see how that would go over. No more party invites for Twunty, no way.

After she tries to get Briana to slow down the wine consumption by saying exactly that, Briana tells her to 'shuddup,' and everyone laughs, including Skipper Three Sheets To The Wind who is well on his way too. Both Daddy and Step-Daddy are alkies. You sure can pick them, Crackie!

Of course, maybe she makes them that way.

I think her family's funny. They seem like they'd be a blast to hang out with. I fear that Crackie is going to wake up in twenty years and find that her controlling ways and work priorities have made her miss out on some of the best years of her life, unless of course she's banging Reese on her lunch hour. If you told me she was, I'd believe it. That kid looks miserable.

They pass a boat with her name on it, and I say, buy the damn thing.

You can always paint Seaward over it.

I thought I was tired of the work protestations last year but this year it's even worse. She is absolutely trying to shit all over their good time because they don't have to work the next day and she does. THEN LEAVE if you don't like it. Saying that 'someone has to pay the bills' is lame and total bullshit. Everyone on that boat works, not just you, Crack-ass. Give it a rest.

Was she always this boring? Also, there is something really wrong here. Either she sucks at delegating responsibility or she is up to no good. No one spends 16 hours a day at work, not unless they're sewing up bullet holes in an ER or babysitting Charlie Sheen.

And goddess she ain't.

And what is with the bad mural in her office?

Did Raquel paint it with her toes?

Now you know who her real family is, and she even brings her need to control and smother them into the office. See, little worker bee Danielle was sick one day. She left for a bite to eat and never came back, opting instead to go home and enjoy some well deserved freedom from Crackie's insurance prattle. That is not acceptable to a Crack Head, so what does she do- give her a warning, dock her pay? No, she spanks her as if that were perfectly normal and acceptable. She hit her employee! I don't care what kind of fun spirit it was done in, it's completely unacceptable, and no doubt an actual OSHA offense.

Exhibit A, Mr. D.A.

I don't think she understands boundaries unless she's created them. Somehow she has managed to convince herself that her rules are fine as long as the work gets done. Makes you wonder about her upbringing. Was her mother not only a sad sack kill-joy but a constant nag? Did her Dad die or did he stage his own death to get away from them? Valid questions in my opinion, and following Crackie's rules, that's all that counts.

Ah, yes. Time for Eddie to take Tammy Sue Bob to Spain. Not because Tammy's never been there and not because Eddie speaks Spanish, but because they can both pick up hot men! Smart thinking, Ever-REddie. Oh, wait. He's straight. Only guys that love pussy need more luggage than their girlfriends.

Girl, I am so stealing this pink pillow, mkay?

Tammy didn't tell Simon where she was going. Instead, she just dumped the kids off at Grandma's so she could beard on two continents. THAT won't blow up in her face, no way, just like bringing mace to Mallard's party didn't. Tamra bitches to Eddie about an uncool text she got from Alexis saying that she didn't appreciate the humor. I don't know which side of the argument I care less about, it's that riveting!

Eddie sighs and tells her to forget about all that. They have hot men to find and dirty pick-up lines to practice on each other!

Now, Tamra. "Que pendejo soy" doesn't mean you like anal.

For some reason Simon didn't put Tamra on the no-fly list and they arrive safely in Seville. Why should she be on that list, you might ask? Because I believe she is part of a terrorist plot to make all American men gay. She can get all the rejuvenating surgery she wants but the minute she opens her mouth, all the penises in a ten mile radius shrivel up into abdominal cavities. We should send her to China, solve the overpopulation crisis in one fell swoop!

The bell-hop shows the two of them around their hotel room, including the bidet which never fails to get a giggle out of moronic Americans, and then the petal strewn bed

complete with a rubber duckie butt plug

Wow, that Eddie thinks of everything. He must have called ahead!

They admire the view from their balcony and yet another opportunity to throw Tamra off a high floor goes un-taken. I guess they were too busy toasting to Eddie since he won the coin toss.

 Yay, I get to fuck the bell-hop first!

She doesn't look too happy. I don't know why. One flush of the bidet and he'll be all ready to go again.

Back in Not-A-Princess Land, Gretchen and Mallard are enjoying some polite conversation after taking their boobs for a walk. Crackie apologized to Mallard for the mace incident, but Tamra didn't. Who the fuck cares? Mallard wants everyone to stop fighting, which I'm sure they'll do.

Just as soon as you stop stealing Sharon Tate's hair-do's.

So yeah, never. She does realize that 'no drama' equals 'no paycheck for shitty dress lines,' right? Drama is GOOD. She needs to start some by cheating on her husband with Shane or something, ANYTHING, really. She can cheat on him with a cross shaped dildo, for all I care. It worked for Linda Blair.

The next day we find Gretchen working on some lists for her parents' vow renewal. At least I think that's what she's doing. I don't know. I usually do my lists with slightly less studiously posed prissy-ness, but that's just me.

1. Send Slade out for coffee
2. Buy a cordless vibrator
3. Destroy all camera memory cards in tri-county area

Take a break from over-accessorizing and step away from the flounce for a minute, you're giving me a really bad Skinemax vibe and God knows I can do that all on my own. It's called Thursday around here and today is only Tuesday.

Slade comes by to help. She barks a million and one orders at him and he looks as if his brain can barely keep up, squinting and frowning and generally acting unhappy. Cheer up!

You're getting paid in blow jobs, right?

His one contribution to the lists is to suggest that they get tissue boxes and write cry-baby on the side since Gretchen's mom and pop are so sentimental. How about we fill one up with shit and write Slade on it? I think Gretch's dad will LOVE that.

I'm going to get serious for a moment. 
Greggy is getting her tits re-did. The first time around she still had a Y chromosome and her body tried to reject them by ejecting them through her armpits. Now she wants them facing front again but is racked with guilt because she could DIE and leave Breckenridge and Lahoma without their Mommy. Why, they might have to be raised by Lypsinka or Shangela! Can you imagine?

God, please let the new Mommy have a good tuck

It's the Post Dramatic Depression acting up again and if she's so stinking worried, why doesn't she fore-go the whole thing? It's called 'elective surgery' because it's not required, moron, and your husband likes all kids of pizza, remember?

If you want them to look more feminine, we're gonna have to cut that dick off.

They wheel her into recovery where she's all groggy until hubby Formica gives her some baubles for the effort.

Look, honey! I'm getting really good with that grabber thingy at the arcade!

Later, Mallard brings her some holy wafers to snack on while she's recovering. If she sprinkles a little salt on them I hear they're just as filling as rice cakes.

Mallard says she should have gone to her surgeon since Greggy's are still slightly wonky. That wasn't very nice! Not everyone is born with extra chest skin and milk glands and stuff! Not everyone has all their little genetic material in order, Mallard. They hug and stuff so I guess everything's okay for now and congrats all around, and I'll pretend you're a girl if you pretend my husband isn't related to The Elephant Man, kthanks. 

Um, Greggy? Why do you smell like Brut?

It's time to be bored again. WAKE UP! Vow renewal-ing is imminent! No snoozing during the ceremony or Gretchen will threaten to throw some Slade at you! 

She rented an old Mustang for her Mom because Mom always wanted to do it in one, only she was too poor. She had to settle for a Nova. 

That sucks. The bad news is that she didn't live out her teen dreams, but the good news is that she and Tamra can share stories!

Slade ruins the picture by standing next to the car.

But instead I'm yellow, just like Slade!

I dunno. If he gets any whiter we're going to need Urkel to translate. 

Gretchen leaves Slade on the curb to pan-handle some child support for a while so she can take her parents on a whirlwind tour of every stop they made on their big day 40 years ago. The only thing she left out was the bloody motel sheet. Still, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Then they ditch the Mustang for a limo which whisks them away to wine country because if there's one thing that binds couples together in Orange County, it's boozing, let's be honest here.

To love and cherish til grapes do us part!

Don't laugh. I'm putting that in my vows this Summer. I'm not signing that certificate without stock in Bota Box, trust.

Gretchen's parents are suitably verklempt and the boys leave the girls alone to get ready. Slade bothers Daddy Scott with his marriage gibberish again, and then he says that this vow renewal is just Gretchen's way of saying that she really wants to get married again. Um, HELL NO!

Unlike Mallard, she can't mate with birds.

Get a haircut, ya damn hippie! 
What the heck is wrong with him? Is he purposely trying to look like a bum so the ex won't bug him for money? He's a pig. Gretchen would be an idiot to marry him. He's better suited to someone of Tammy Sue's caliber, or a Lohan, maybe.

Anyway, the ceremony goes on without a hitch, Mom loves the ring, and Gretchen found the pastor that married them in the first place 40 years ago.

Reverend Jiminy Cricket.

By the way, I cannot be the only one that was expecting a huge party. Where were their friends and family? Where was her brother? He sure did disappear after the first season Gretchen was on. I wonder if he just wants to beat the shit out of Slade (no pun intended) and can't control his fists around him. It would make sense, right?

If so, too bad. I would love to see some real drama and not the contrived crap Ms. Rossi is throwing at us this year. Speaking of contrived crap, in Spain Eddie can't stop taking pictures of Tamra. He's taken, like hundreds of thousands, which is exactly how many men live in Seville.

Can you move to the side, Tamra? A little more, a little more..
Eddie! I'm out of frame!

They head off to a cozy little bistro for lunch and eat FRENCH FRIES. I guess they didn't choose the place for it's authentic cuisine. Maybe it was close to the hotel. Maybe they advertised half off bottles of wine. Gee, I'm not sure.

Couldn't be the hunky waiter.

They sit down to their meal and the conversation turns awkward. Do you know how hard it is to ask a woman to carry a baby for you and your boyfriend? What if she laughs at you? Will your friendship ever be the same if she says no? Will she want to keep the baby once she's had it? Oh, GOD! What if it gets all her genes!

There are so many things to think about, not least of all her age. She's 43 and hasn't had vaginal rejuvenation after the first four buggers she spit out. What if all her eggs spilled on the floor last time she queefed? Dear God, I hope someone scrubs that bidet.

Anyway, Tammy will give it a go. There's nothing wrong with adding to the child support insurance policy, just ask Crackie, she knows.

The next day they head off to Marbella, which I hear is very nice. It has a really big sign, more suited to the entrance to Disneyland than a pretty seaside town.

And we Americans are the tacky ones? Sheesh.

That's okay because no sooner had I written that, than Tamra goes proving me wrong. She's at the market buying food all by her lonesome just to prove to Eddie that she can do it. When the guy ignores her requests then speaks in English, she gets all pissed and says, "I hope one day you get laid," loud enough for him to hear her. Tacky, Tamra, TACKY, and for all you know, that's exactly what he was doing back there.

Wait, where's Eddie?

She and Eddie head off to the beach where Tamra reveals that she only does nice stuff like this for her gay friends, never Simon. Then they frolic in the surf like little kids. I've never seen Eddie so ecstatic and joyful! The waters of the Mediterranean are so frothy and salty and foamy and fun,

Why, he could play in it all day!

Next week Simon drunk texts Tammy Sue, everybody fights and someone calls Slade a dead beat, Woo Hoo!

Your Twunt

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