Dear Wisteria Lane, It's YOU, Not Me - 
by Umnata
Sorry this is a little late - especially for you 8 readers out there who are checking this recap out. That's right, Desperate Housewives, the 5th highest rated show got a piddly 8 comments last week. Sure, it could be my inconsistency writing these recaps, my countless grammatical and spelling errors or even my penchant for mildly racist humor (Miss you ChowMein!) that is keep you away from the comments area, but why blame myself when I can blame countless, anonymous readers? Was last week's comment by Nate accurate? Does no one care about this show anymore? Granted, this latest episode was probably not the one to make you type with excitement in the comments over the Wisteria Lane Witches. As a matter of fact, this was a season low for the series, as far as I'm concerned. Well, as far as everyone was concerned as it dropped to 19.3 million viewers this week - it's first time under 20 mill all season. So maybe it's not me, and maybe it's not you, maybe it's them. Yes! Them! you know who you are, SkeleHatcher with your arms so thin and waist so small. Perhaps the writers are giving Eva LongWHOREia (KatieHoles words not mine - as a matter of fact I wrote Eva a lovely note in the recap below) haters a reason to cringe by giving her too much screen time? Or are we all just missing the Applewhites and the Youngs too much to have anything of substance to say? So let's allow a Mary Alice Voiceover to pave the way to this week's recap: "YYYYESSSS, things were a bit skimpy overattvgasm, but just then, UMNATA, reeeemmmmemmmbered... the bloggers who snark together... stay... to.get.her."
Bree starts the evening rummaging around a seedy motel. No don't worry, she's not cheating on Dr. Giggles, but rather she's looking for her slutty sloth daughter who is currently having a season 1 Dawson's Creek affair with her History teacher. Bree runs into Gus, my favorite stock character: The slimy motel day manager. He of the paisley shirt and slick comb over, Gus how you captured my heart from the moment you asked Bree if she had a gun, worrying about your new carpet.
Alas, Bree doesn't have a gun on her (wouldn't it solve so many problems, if she did?), she just wants to calmly and politely explain to her daughter and her teacher that this affair is unacceptable. As is the location of it. Come on Sloth, Mama Petrelli's basement was nicer than this place! Bree enters the den of sin and we hear off camera some screeching from Danielle. Okay, yes it was funny that Bree used a tissue to open the door of sin to her daughter's love nest. In case you haven't noticed, I'm completely ignoring Mary Alice at this point.
Now it's time for Dysfunctional Family Dinner at the Hodge-Podge house! Yippey! Bree thought that the way to mend her daughter's broken heart was through cooking some lamb. Yes, Bree, you are so in touch with the teenagers. You interrupted a lurid, sexual tryst between your daughter and her history teacher, so cooking her some tender lamb, with just a pinch of rosemary is the way right back into her heart. The dysfunctional barbs fly starting with Andrew saying that Sloth doesn't like Lamb, she prefers, old goat. Hardeeharhar. Ehh, it's clever in theory, but I just felt like there was a better barn animal joke in there somewhere. Granted, I don't know what that joke is, but that's why I don't write for the 5th highest rated show on television, I just write a blog mocking it. Orson (still my favorite homicidal dentist, like, ever), chimes in telling Danielle, that her paramour being nearly divorced doesn't exactly make him the most suitable mate. Danielle retorts by throwing a plate of food at the wall, forcing Bree to do the unthinkable: Consider buying paper plates.
Across the street, after a day of hard work, Lynette is home to discover that her husband has discovered, at long last, his dream. He has decided that this dream of his is to open up a Pizzeria. Say Whaaaaat? I was hoping that he'd say it in an affected stereotypically Italian accent, to really make sure the idea comes off even morestupid, but he doesn't. First of all, isn't a dream something that you've always, you know, dreamt about? Not something that you, oh I don't know, MAKE UP OUT OF THIN AIR!?!? Second of all, I hate Tom. That's it, nothing more to that. Lynette is trying to hide her shock, awe, and I think, disgust, by swallowing this hard piece of nonsense.
Speaking of nonsense: Damn you Jack Tripper, Janet Wood and Christmas Snow, for making the world of misunderstandings so bountiful to television writers! Damn you to hell! In the world of Carlos and Gabby's "messy" divorce (No internet porn? No stolen cash? No accusations of sexual deviancy? Talk to Kathy Griffin and Sara Evans about "messy" divorces, Mr. & Mrs. Solis), Gabrielle gets home to find Carlos getting the mood ready. The mood, you say? But Carlos, aren't you and Gabrielle O-to-tha-VER? That's certainly what Gabrielle explains to Carlos, as she follows his misguided passion play all the way to the bathroom, where Carlos has stashed the ho he's trying to bang. Oh wait, Gabby, did you think... did you think the candles and the music and the romance was for you!?!?! ZOINKS!
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