This week on Fantasia For Real: Fanny is attacked by raccoons! The Weenster acts like a baffoon! And Zion gets trapped in a balloon! (Not really, but it rhymed.)
Sorry, dude, even implicating your kid in a nationally televised hoax is NOT enough to help you get a hit album.
Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen! How are you all? Better than me, I hope-I’m still dying from The Plague over here. On the up side, just hearing me on the phone coughing up a lung was enough for the doctor to call me in a refill of the codeine cough syrup. On the down side, HappyHusband won’t come near me, I haven’t gotten laid in over a week, and I’m starting to get crabby. Or crabbier than usual, I should say. Anyhoo. I painted my nails a lovely shade of whore red to keep myself from nodding off while typing up this piece of shit, so let’s hope for the best!
Nothing says “I take it in the butt” quite like this particular shade!
We begin this evening’s masterpiece by catching up with Fanny and Gayface outside of a school-like establishment. Fanny nervously tells us that she is there to take her placement test. Because she has been out of school for so long, she needs to find out exactly how dumb she is so they know who to bribe where to begin her reeducation.
Judging by the look of her nail polish choice, I’d say kindergarten.
The school-like establishment is none other than Sylvan, and Fanny says she is not looking forward to the four hour test, but I also detect a bunch of nervousness, which is actually kind of endearing. I mean, it’s not like she was farking Einstein before she dropped out of school, you know? I honestly think it’s great she’s taking this so seriously, and it’s not just the wine talking. She tells her teacher/tutor chick that she looks pretty, and I’m sorry hun, while you’ve got great intentions, it’s going to take a lot more than an empty compliment to bribe your way out of this shit. Even the fine leaning institution known as Sylvan only accepts cash, you dig?
Tutor lady senses Fanny’s nervousness, but Fanny won’t admit it. She gets put in front of a computer and is told to start the test, with Tutor Lady overseeing.
So if I put quarters in this slot, will the condoms come out of the screen?
Two and a half hours later, and poor Fanny has gotten virtually nowhere on the test. Tutor Lady asks her how it’s going, and she’s basically just skipped over most of the questions. Poor kid. I don’t know if her problem is just a lack of even the most basic of educations, or a learning disability, or what-but she just doesn’t comprehend things when she reads them. She reads it, but can’t understand it. I know, I know, I know, I’m supposed to be making fun of her, but I actually feel bad for her-school/learning/education has always come extremely easy for me, and I genuinely feel awful that she struggles so. But she still looks like Spongebob in a bikini. There, that’s better.
Fanny tells Tutor Lady that she got tired and just started picking answers. Tutor Lady tells her that she needs to know if she truly didn’t know the answers or if she just didn’t answer them-there’s a difference, and it will change where they go from here. Fanny doesn’t really have an answer for her. Gayface, who proves his sexuality with the following shirt:
Sorry dudes, no straight man wears a t-shirt like that.
…says he really wants Fanny to do well, because her motivation is to show Zion that if Mommy can do it, she can do it, but he’s concerned because Fantasia starts a million things but never follows through on any of them. Like getting her prison tattoos filled in. Or her singing career.
In another brilliant editing move (insert sarcasm font here), we are back in New York and working on the album again. Fanny is excited because her label has her working with the “best of the best”-a songwriter named Claude Kelly. This is the asshat responsible for such award winning timeless gems as “Party in the USA” by Miley Skankrus and “My Life Would Suck Without You” by Kelly Clarkson. (Don’t get me wrong, Mama loves me some Kelly C, but that song is definitely NOT the high point of her career.)
Also present is Keef, the A&R guy we met a couple of episodes ago. Fanny and CK have decided they want to write a song from scratch, and Keef is understandably concerned. Throwing two potheads in a studio and hoping for the best is not the brightest strategy, as far as I’m concerned. I checked out CK’s wiki page, and seriously, I think he wrote it himself. If a PR person actually did it, they need to be fired immediately. I think this guy has a little of The Weenster Syndrome going on…as in, he thinks he’s WAY better than he really is. They’re trying to put together something, but as Keef so eloquently puts it, his “hit-o-meter” is not going off and he is concerned they are wasting resources and time.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Same goes for studio time.
Fanny tells CK she wants it to “go hard,” like Beyonce meets Fantasia. What the fuck exactly does “go hard” mean anyway? Isn’t that something you should be shouting out in bed, rather than the studio? Whatever. Keef has decided it’s too late, this is probably a throwaway session, and leaves to go home.
Fanny, CK, and two other producers stay until 4 am working on the song. By the end of the session, they actually have a song together, which is amazing. What is even more amazing is the power of production-the screaming that Fanny did in the booth sounds NOTHING like what comes out on playback. Maybe there’s hope for HappyHousewife to win a grammy yet. I do have to admit, though-the song turned out better than I expected. Not Beyonce level #1 material, but I think it would get good radio play and would be a decent second or third single. Finally, at 4 am, they call it a night and anxiously await Keef’s opinion the next day.
The next morning, Keef comes in, and is not expecting much.
He was probably expecting this.
I really like this guy. Fanny and CK ask him if he is excited, and he deadpans, “I’m super, mega stoked.” Ha ha. They put on the song, and he starts to groove along to it. He says, “I was expecting this to be a throwaway, but the chorus is very melodic and a total singalong-we might actually have something here.” Everyone is pleased, and while they are not sure if it is going to be on the album or not, it is actual progress.
Which is pretty impressive coming from a narcoleptic.
Back in Charlotte, Mom is working with Zion on some homework and studying for a test. Which is great and all, but it kind of makes me sad…where in the fuck were you when ALL THREE of your kids were dropping out of school? Why weren’t you helping THEM with their homework? Say what you want about Fanny, Weenie, and Ricco, but when it comes down to it, the person ultimately responsible for them not being educated is this bitch. If you want to continue being a douche once you’re an adult, that’s your own decision, but their lack of basic education and a decent foundation from which they can grow into productive adults is no one’s fault but Mom and Dad’s. Ok, Happy will step off her soapbox now. Time to take a Xanax, apparently.
Mom says Fanny getting her GED will be a good inspiration for Zion, and that she thinks she will go through with it. Ugh, I’m done with this trick. Moving on.
Fanny and Gayface are then jetting off to Atlanta for a performance at the Soul Train awards.
Look, it’s a flying penis!
Gayface tells us that image is way more important in the music business than talent. No shit. Because of that, he has brought in some dude named Frank who is apparently choreographer to the stars to make Fanny look good on stage. Frank tells Fanny that while he loves her enthusiasm and her “Holy Ghost” spirit, he wants to work with her and make her keep her damn shoes on on stage. Word to your mother, Frank.
Fanny tells us that Frank has worked with some big names such as Beyonce and Michael Jackson, so he obviously must know what he’s doing. Whoo, can you say career jealousy much? That is like the third time homegirl has brought up Beyonce in the first ten minutes of this episode already. I hate to be the one to break it to you, dearest, but you are never going to be Beyonce. Forget the Grammys and Jay-Z….best you’re ever going to do is an MTV VMA and some rapper who’s name starts with Young, if you’re lucky. You can take the girl out the hood, but you cannot take the hood out the rat.
Sorry, someone had to say it.
Frank wants Fanny to faux perform her song in the hotel room for him so he can she what she’s planning on doing. She balks, because she doesn’t like to be rehearsed, she just likes to go off the cuff and wing it. She says she doesn’t even remember what she did when she’s done with a performance. Frank likes everything rehearsed and on pointe, and that doesn’t work for her. And that, my dear, is why you’ll never be Beyonce. You have to have some idea of what you’re doing up there or you’ll just come off like some batshit crazy southern baptist. Whoops, too late.
Frank and Gayface try to explain to this stupid bitch that in order to take things to the next level, she has to map out her performances. Riding with the spirit is great and all, but in order to really wow the audience, you have to take them on a ride. Frank tells her, “I’m not trying to change you, I’m just trying to polish you.” Frank, darling-you can’t polish a turd. Oh wait, I saw that Mythbusters, yes you can!!!
If this isn’t the perfect euphemism for Fantasia, I really don’t know what is.
Since Fanny’s being stupid and refusing to show her performance to Frank, they start working on her posing and body language for the show. He teaches her poses for the red carpet, and how to look refined and humble. Frank just thinks she’s country, which isn’t a bad thing, but she needs to move past that if she ever wants to be a superstar. He is SO right.
Oh my gawd, you guys. I need to stop laughing long enough to even type this next paragraph. So, Weenie promised Fanny he would move out by the first of the year. In order to do that, he is selling lots of weed trying to make some cash. He tells us he does that by, and I quote, “grinding music his style, cause he’s a boss. In order to show us exactly how bossy he is, he picks up Detective Bunny and a couple of other random dudes in his faux Bentley, and takes them back to his ghetto shack in the hood.
Our dear Weenster sets up a mobile producing unit in some bedroom on a dresser, then sets up a makeshift booth in a closet. He’s got some random douchebag named Bobby Black recording, and the guys spits out a rap that my four year old could have come up with. It sounds so bad. No flow, no swag, just a nursery type rhyme. Weenie “mixes” it, calls it “the fire,” then collects his payment and goes off about what a baller he is and how he’s swimming in dough.
I guess for this douchecanoe 40 bucks is a pretty big payout.
I’m not exactly sure what he’s trying to prove here. Why he would drag his family out and put on a big show, which is pathetic at best. I could make more money giving a couple back alley hand jobs. (Note to self: how to make beer money. See previous line.) This guy has some serious socialization issues. Detective Bunny says it wasn’t what she expected, but you can’t discount humble beginnings. I think she’s being WAY too nice.
Thanks to our awesome editors, I don’t know where we’re at in the next scene, but it is Fanny and Gayface in some unknown city at some unknown designer, looking for an outfit for her to wear to the Soul Train awards. She tries on many TJ Maxx rejects before settling on an awful tight minidress with puffy shoulders…basically something my mom wore to the Christmas Party 1988. She remarks that she likes all these clothes because they were youthful, fun, and tight fitting. Her ideal outfit is something so tight it shows off every pube on her FUPA. Lovely.
Can you call my waxer and tell her to glove up to the elbow?
She also chooses the most atrocious Louis Vuitton heels I have ever seen. I’m all about fashion forward, and taking risks, but I don’t even think Vicky B would be caught dead in these atrocities.
Louis Vuitton: Spring Hoodrat Collection
She asks the designer to make the dress tighter, but thankfully for all of our eyes (or just mine because you bitches aren’t sitting through this!) he talks her out of it. Good, cause I’m all out of eye bleach after the bikini incident.
Fanny arrives at the awards, where she is going to be performing a tribute to Chaka Khan. Bitch, you are NO Chaka Khan. I wonder how many dicks Gayface had to suck to get her this gig. She looks okay enough on the red carpet, although I do not like her hair AT ALL. She can make it look so much cuter than that, but I guess she’s really committed to the 80′s look. Whatevs.
Can someone hand me the Dep Gel?
On stage…holy shit. She’s wearing a jacket with what looks like a raccoon on the shoulder, and the screaming…oh lord, the screaming. Is she performing, or is the raccoon attacking her? I really can’t tell.
The great part is after I wear it, we can fry it up for dinner!!!
I’ll admit, I’m not the most familiar with Chaka (my parents were more of the Def Leppard era) but I don’t think she just gratingly screams her head off in her songs, no? Oh, it sounded awful. But Fanny was pleased at the end, she thinks it went great. Of course she did.
And that’s all, folks! Alrighty, my Gasmic Darlings, according to the teaser for next week, The Weenster starts looking at houses and Fanny tries to reconnect with her father. Holy shit-are we actually going to meet the ditch dweller that is responsible for this family of hot messes? I think I’m actually going to WANT to watch this episode!!!
Love and Bubbles,
HappyHousewife
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5 Comments
Wow, are you sure it’s not actually this show that’s making you sick? You may be our first “death by reality TV”. Chaka Khan was a force and Fanny isn’t fit to hold her toenail clippings. Once again your recap is very funny. I really think if they check the ratings it would come back “one sick housewife who ain’t gettin’ any” LOL
If you make it through this season you should get some kind of a gsam award.
Soapboxx:
I just love you, you are too sweet! The cause of death on the death certificate will read: hoodrat overdose. For sure. Love ya!!
Nothing says “I take it in the butt” quite like this particular shade!
OMG, I totally blew boogers everywhere with that line! Awesome job Ms. Wife! I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve been loving your work on this show, you’ve got the perfect tone for it.
I used to kinda feel sorry for Fanny when I found out about her illiteracy issues, but that kinda stopped when it became clear that she didn’t seem to feel she needed to rectify that situation right away (we’ve known this about her since 2004 and it’s only NOW that she’s trying to get re-educated?) Let’s sing songs about being baby-mamas and not bother with being able to read contracts or take care of our own business.
It’s so sad, because I liken it to those athletes who get football scholarships to college and are passed without doing the work and learning anything… those are the same guys who either blow a knee and can’t do anything else or they’re swindled out of their salaries once they hit the big time.
Still, I’m loving your take on all of this, great job!
love, J-Mo
P.S. Doesn’t Fantasia wear that exact same shade of nail polish?
Well, it’s good to know that I’m not the only one calling total bullshit on the whole “trying to get re-edumacated when I should have taken care of it six years ago” situation. And I totes agree with you where Fanny’s mom is concerned.
As for the Weenster, I guess 40 big ones must be considered huge pay if he wants to blow it on weed.
Great recap as usual, HH!!
Hearts and peace,
Lissadoll.
J-Mo: That means a lot coming from a recapping rockstar such as yourself…thank you so much!! This show does not give me a lot to work with, so I’m really glad you guys think I’m doing okay!
J&Lissa-I felt bad for her too, until I saw her in action. Yes, I think she might have a learning disability. Also, she has access to all the options in the world right now-private tutors, education resources, etc. Watching her take the placement test-as soon as it got difficult whatsoever, she just gave up. I think that’s a statement as to the rest of her life, as well.
Weenie….sigh. Oh, Weenie.
Love you guys!
xoxo, HH