Real Housewives of Orange County: Dysfunction, Party of Five

Have you ever had a friend that you thought you knew? You may have had this person pigeon-holed as the funny Bridget Jones-y one or the ditsy one or the one who always seems so together. Then one day, something happens. They call you up and tell you that they are getting divorced when you thought that their marriage was great, or that they are bipolar. Or maybe they say something about you that you never even knew they felt and you find yourself questioning your entire friendship.

Well, this week that happens with Slurry. Who knew what an asshole she was? I sure didn’t. I thought that she was goofy and not the greatest parent but holy hell! She can be mean, to say the least, and her flippancy has opened my eyes to understanding a little better why she finds herself in the predicament that she is in- children that act out and finances that are crumbling.You remember last week when Gretchen stuck her nose in Alexa’s business, telling her that she was there for her and talking about her depression ON CAMERA. Stupid, we all know that. She may have had the best intentions, or she may have been angling for more of a sympathetic role on the show, don’t know. Don’t care. For Alexa’s sake, Slurry should have thanked Gretchen for her concern but told her to butt out. Done. Right? Wrong.

Instead, she walks her little weiner dog Lucy, over to Gretchen’s house for a doggy playdate and a grown-up (I use that term very loosely) sit down. She makes a stupid joke about there being two guy dogs and one girl, like every woman’s fantasy, so let’s just assume that she’s still rollin’ in the percs and valium because that is just gross.

The last thing that I want to picture is Slurry getting more than one orifice plugged. We already had to watch her piehole filled up with a tube during surgery and that’s enough intimacy for me. By the way, the face lift? She got some kind of payment plan, and I’m pretty sure that Raquel’s nose had been in layaway.

Slurry’s got an atrocious pink outfit on her dog and it runs away after she takes it off, proving that her mommy skills extend to her animals.

They sit down to talk and Slurry starts right in on how inappropriate it was for her to confront Alexa. Gretchen defends herself by saying that the poor teenager was always bringing up her depression, and she just wanted to make sure that nothing bad happened because of it.

Slurry bugs her eyes out in interviews and trashes Gretchen as a role model, which is kind of beside the point but no one ever confused Slurry with a rational human being, now did they? She says something about reacting like a mama bear protecting it’s cub and that’s cute and all but it would be nice to throw a little sense in there too.

She is still denying that there is anything wrong with Alexa and maybe there isn’t but she doesn’t listen to a word that Gretchen has to say, even when she tells her that her own daughter was crying because no one listens to her. Slurry doesn’t want to hear it. She likes her soft cushy narcotic bubble, and only comes out of it for pilates, duh Gretchen.

The truth is that I’d be pretty mad if someone tried to tell me what my daughter needed but then again, I don’t eat pot brownies all day and hire ‘youthologists’ because my kid won’t talk to me. She tells Gretchen that she has no right to judge since she doesn’t have kids which is the easy way to win the argument, and doesn’t address anything, it’s just dismissive and mean.

Then she asks her what kind of kid she was and when Gretchen tells her that she was hard to handle, Slurry says that she still is and brings up naked wasted. WHAT? When did Slurry get on a high horse? What a mature way to handle the situation.

The conversation ends with Gretchen saying that she only wanted to let Alexa know that if she needed to talk, she was there for her. That was all that she wanted to do. I don’t know if I buy it but I understand why she came away from that conversation so upset. Slurry was so condescending and even laughed in her face when she admitted to having problems as a kid, like bulimia. She was all, “Really? I cannot wait for YOU to be a parent.” So annoying.

She probably pays more attention to her pot plants than she does to her two daughters.

Back at the faux Tuscan equity-less cul de sac, Tamra is on the phone with Crackie. Once again, shit gets weird when Crackie apologizes for over-reacting in Florida. Huh? Damn, Donn must have filled that tank up really well for her to freaking say that she’s sorry. I almost fell off my chair.

Tamra Sue apologizes back for making her feel left out, and they are back to being BFFs. The mean girls are on the same side again, so watch out Coto, Crackie wants to have a slumber party and somebody might get hurt.

What is up with the sleep-over? Good God, woman. Did you not have a fulfilling enough time as a teenager, so now you want to do all those things you missed out on because no one could stand you and your bossiness? What else have you done? Make Donn take you to Brianna’s prom?

Slade’s back. Yay. Why is he dressed like a homeless unemployed gigolo?

He’s there to prop up Gretchen’s ego, which is turning into a full time job.

She’s still upset because Slurry told her that her opinion doesn’t count for shit since no infant has fallen out of her nethers yet. Slade makes one of his patented witty jokes about the doctor pulling Slurry’s face too tight and Gretchen laughs like a hyaena.

He points out the obvious- that Slurry plays the role of the babbling idiot and that she never listens. he also tells Gretchen that she needs to figure out if these are really the kind of people that she wants to be friends with.

And then what, Slade? You want her to leave the Housewives and star in a barely watched dating show on Bravo with you?

Sorry, dirtbag. That ship has sailed for you. Nobody wants you in anything, except maybe a suit, making money to pay for little Grayson’s brain cancer treatments.

I wonder if he gets any money for appearing on this show. If he does, I certainly hope that his paycheck is garnished before he can blow it on any more staged trips on boats with famewhore Gretchen.

Do any of these peripheral characters get paid? Certainly not Nugget’s Daddy. Tamra is visiting him over at her mom’s little condo where HIS unemployed ass is freeloading, for some Chinese and conversation.

The door is wide open (heads up, you O.C. burglars. let me know if you find any eyebrows lying around) and Ol’ Rapey Eyes slouches down the stairs, complaining that he’s sooooo tired that he had to sleep for 16 hours. Unemployment and an entire day on the beach grabbing girl’s butts can just leave a widdle wapist all tuckered out.

Tamra’s plan for visiting Ryan is to get him to apologize to Simon. She says that she doesn’t want to end up divorced with three kids like her mother did. We all saw what it did to her, and Tamra’s eyebrows are already fleeing like her mama’s so this is pretty much life and death.

First, the cheeky monkey tells his mommy that he had an interview at a gym of some kind since he knows so much about fitness. Well, well, well. I sure couldn’t tell. It’s not like he’s built or anything. I bet that Brianna could take him.

He also says that he has re-opted for community service instead of jail. Hmmmm. I think that he’s heard a few stories about what really goes on behind bars in the past few weeks, plus he says that it would look bad if he got this job and then had to leave to serve his sentence.
How’s he going to get there? Segway?

Maybe he’ll hitch a ride from whoever drives the Meals on Wheels van.
She brings up the apology and he shuts her down. He has priciples, dammit! They are based on hate but they’re still principles.

She pulls out the pity card by saying that their disagreements have placed a wedge between her and Simon. I would think that THAT would be exactly what he wants, Tamra Sue. But he’s too stupid to realise this and just pouts by saying that this whole ‘I stole mommy’s car’ thing has put a wedge between him and Tamra as well.

Wedge away, I say. I could care less. I just hope that he is paying HIS child support, now that he’s fathered a live nugget with some chick he probably met in a chat room for guys who are prematurely bald and the dumb skanks that love them.

His poor kid doesn’t stand a chance, and neither do Slurry’s, unless they go the Alexis route and marry a rich cretin, the sooner the better.

We find ourselves in Slurry’s rented kitchen where she is drinking tea in one of her rented cups. She is being amazingly inarticulate so I’m going to assume that there’s some yummy booze in there along with the Earl Grey.

She is telling Frank that she thinks that Gretchen is mad at her for “being honest,” when all of a sudden her phone rings. She looks at it like my puppy looks at mine when it vibrates.

Gretchen’s on the line and she wants to clear the air but Slurry is intent on being a bitch to her, bringing up that whole, “you don’t have kids, so you can’t give me advice,” shitstorm again.

She goes on to say that Alexa is doing just fine, they talk all the time and she hasn’t done anything wrong like put herself all over the internet. Wow. Who’s the bitch NOW. Geez, Slurry. Gretchen wasn’t mad enough already for you, so you had to venture into Tamra territory?

Gretchen reminds her that it was Jay who did that and why is she being so mean to the poor little famewhore all of a sudden? She is starting to sound REALLY pissed now.

Slurry tells her that she wishes that Gretchen had told her what she was going to do and Gretchen informs her that she did (kinda) but Slurry didn’t listen. She never listens.

Could she be less self aware? She did the whole eye roll, “I’m ignoring you…” thing. Oh, honey. I’ve got the key to all your problems right there. When you don’t face things, like your husband’s failures and your daughter’s cries for help, things tend to go down the shitter. You know, like getting kicked out of your home, or driving tickets for not having insurance because you Frank stopped paying for it.

I have no idea what gretchen or Frank or even Slurry said at this point since they were all talking at the same time. The gist is that Gretchen invited them for dinner to get to the bottom of all this, and to give Frank something to do with all his free time.

The hippies agree and Slurry hangs up and calls her a downer. Frank doesn’t want to deal either and they leave to take a walk on the beach or something.

.
Ugh. That whole scene made me mad. I’ve had similar conversations with people who were dumber than Slurry (hard to believe, I know) and I just end up so mad at the lack of logic, one time I lost my voice. My throat closed up from all the repressed anger. Can you imagine? It’s all I could do to keep from killing this one guy. My heart rate is rising just thinking about it.

I’m sure that Gretchen feels the same way.

Let’s check in with Crackie and the little Crackers, shall we? Michael has found his true calling and it involves a mouse and an internet connection, lots of time to spare and you can do it pretty much anywhere except work.

I’m not talking about watching porn, you perverts, I’m talking about internet poker! Little Michael has parlayed the one skill he has that doesn’t involve dodging his mother into a money making empire!

So far he has earned over $40,000 and has bought himself a nice little Rolex for $4,600. Crackie doesn’t care about the gambling because he hasn’t asked her for a single penny since he left college. He’s still living at home under the watchful eye of the Crackhead, so he you know that he can’t be doing THAT well.

Plus, her house is pretty sweet, so why leave when she’s on the road or in her office all the time? I sure wouldn’t.

She does want him to get his ass to work for her and tries to lure him with her latest sales contest- 300 bucks to whoever sells the most insurance in a month. Talk about being out of touch. Why on earth would he work for her? He’s making money while he’s having fun and he doesn’t have to listen to her while he does it. Just wait until he hits a losing streak, though.

The family is making dinner together and Crackie will not leave Mike alone. For fuck’s sake, woman, let him make his freaking peppers in peace. Brianna tells her to shut it and that’s that, except for one thing-

I have to have one! It can keep me company while Mr. McSlore is off earning all that fine joorey money. Speaking of the hubby, it was his birthday yesterday and what did he do? He bought ME a present, a new Droid phone! What a sweetie, but don’t worry. He got PLENTY from me. Trust.

Back at chalet de famefart, Slade asks Gretchen if she is going to get their guests drunk before or after they have their little chat. Gretchen is nervous. Slurry has changed towards her since she started hanging out with Tamra. I find this new friendship strange. What do they have to talk about, overdue bills? Their drunken children? Unemployed husbands? Oh, wait, maybe they DO have a lot to discuss over their cougar cosmo’s.

Slade has one point to make that doesn’t make me want to hit him over the head with my laptop. He sys that Slurry is probably getting her panties in a bunch at the mere thought of Gretchen getting information out of Alexa that she can’t.
He promises to be nice and I can’t wait to see how long that lasts. Little Miss Perfect can’t afford to have you messing with her newly sympathetic image, moron.

Frank waves away the smoke from the pipe they just toked off of, Slurry spritzes on some Clinique Happy to cover the weed smell and they stagger up Gretchen’s little walkway, flowers in hand.

In interviews, Slurry says that they are going to leave if anything bad is said, and she doesn’t expect to be there past the hors d’oeuvres. Then she sees the Margaritas and finds out that Gretchen has laid out a pretty sweet spread of Mexican food.

Frank makes a toast to “real friends,” in an effort to head off any bad feelings and I wish that Gretchen would simply promise to butt out, get naked wasted and entertain us with some Tequila fueled groping sessions with Frank.

She does apologize for upsetting them and then explains that when she was a troubled teen with body issues and no one to talk to, she developed bulimia and she would hate to see anything like that happen to Alexa.

Okaaaaay, that was fine, but Slurry gets all defensive right out of the gate. She says that she talks to Alexa all the time and knows every aspect of her life because her precious little colt tells her everything.

“You know only what she tells you.”

Guess who said that. I’ll let Gretchen’s face give you a clue-

Someone is getting his allowance taken away after dinner. What a fucktard. This is not about you, Slade! Why do you have to butt into everything with your poorly thought out Dr. Phil impression? God, I wish that Jay would have put a hit out on him when he had the chance.

Right before we cut to commercial, he tells the Curtains that being a friend means being honest and they might not like what he has to say but he’s going to tell them “how it is.” This is where I would have slapped him across the face and left.

I think that Slurry is upset by what Slade said but I honestly can’t tell. That facelift has widened her eyes almost as much as it has deadened them.

He starts in on how ‘they’ wanted to err on the side of caution because kids can get lost in a world of drugs and he sounds like he caught an after-school special called “Kimmie smoke some reefer, now she’s a teen mom,” on ABC Family.

Frank almost had me in his corner when he told Slade that he was full of it, but then he went and ruined it by saying that he wants to be his kids’ friend. No, no and Hell to the NO.

When has the parent as friend thing ever worked? It must be an urban legend because I have never ever seen it pay off in a positive way in real life. Actually, the only way you could fuck a kid up worse would be if your name was Dina Lohan.

So, nothing gets accomplished, the kid is the one that gets lost in all their individual ego stroking in front of the Bravo cameras and in the end, no one comes out looking good. So, congrats, assholes.

It’s time again to enter the perfect little world of our stressed out trophy wife, Alexa. It turns out that she has a friend named Tiffany who would love to be on TV, so she takes her to the spa. What a life.

They lay down on their respective massage tables and then the real massage begins. The ego massage. “You’re the best mommy!” “No, you are!” “I just don’t know how you DO it!”

Gross, I know, but let’s all close our own eyes for a moment and thank God that the Pawn Preacher doesn’t make an appearance this week.

They chat a bit about Alexis’s transition as the new housewife and then she brings up the Drunko party. She tells Tiffany that she’s glad that she didn’t win that night because if she had staggered home drunk, she would have had to go out back and pick her own switch again.

Okay, she says grounded, but for heaven’s sake, woman. Don’t you know that you are going to wake up one day only to find yourself living in a Jacqueline Susann novel, only with more Jesus and less campy glamour? You will not be happy, I promise.

And one more thing, if you feel that you have to be perfect whenever any men are around, then I’m going to assume that you skipped women’s studies in college and went straight to the blowing your professor for grades part.

At least she won’t have to get all dolled up for Crackie’s sleepover. Crackie sure didn’t. There is something weird about the color of her skin, by the way. It kinda resembles the boiled chicken I saw on Worst Cooks In America the other day. Maybe Slurry could give her the number of one of the resurfacers that Frank used in his construction business. It couldn’t hurt.

She’s busy in her kitchen, getting her gorgeous house all ready for the gals and then she kisses Donn goodbye. He’s smart. He got a hotel room for the night, and for his sake, I hope that there’s a crumpled up piece of paper in his pocket with a name he found on Craiglist scratched on it. Or better yet, he’s heading off to a tryst with Jeana at the St. Regis.

Gretchen is the first to arrive and Crackie tells her about the lovely trip to Turks and Caicos she used to bribe Donn into sticking around another fifteen years. And, hey! What’s this? Crackie is being nice? This episode has me so confused.

She tells Gretchen that there is going to be a surprise and then they are going to tp Jeana’s house. That’s right. We landed back in the tenth grade and the girls are going to roll houses. Like I said, either Crackie missed out on that stuff as a teen or they were her best years and she wants to relive them.

Alexis arrives with Tamra and some jell-o shots. Danger, danger! I stay away from those. Blackouts aren’t pretty when you are on the far side of forty.

Did you see how Tamra gave Gretchen the up and down once over? Her head swivelled to take in every inch of her rival before she could help herself. I guess that the green eyed monster doesn’t mind slumber parties.

She makes a crack about Simon being in the car, waiting to join them and then asks where Slurry is. Alexis tells them that she’s lost. Of course she is, says Crackie, and the mean girls snicker to each other about it. Are you watching, Slurry? Because if you want to be buddies in poverty with this snake, you better get used to it.

Crackie wants everybody to turn their phones off, an idea that I am wholeheartedly in favor of, but Alexis can’t. Poor Pawn Preacher is at home all alone with the kiddies because none of their nannies could swing an overnight stay. I wouldn’t want to either. Can you imagine waking up to his doughy ass meandering into breakfast in the morning? I’d be hanging from the ceiling fan before you could say, “I’ll give ya 25 dollas fer it, and dats my final offa.”

The vile pig calls with inquiries about where the bowls and spoons are. How can you not know where a frigging spoon is in your own house? He knows, of course he does. He is controlling her by making sure that she’s tethered to her phone and at his beck and call, even in absentia. Dick.

The look on the other women’s faces when she tells them that he has never changed a diaper? Priceless. The look on their faces when they find out that she has to race home if one of the twins makes a doody? Even Tamra is speechless, and Crackie’s face?

Maybe they should send Slade over there to set him straight. Puh-lease, I can make fun of Jim all I want but he is most definitely Alpha. Slade would pee his pants before he so much as looked at him. Oh wait, he already did at the golf course.

Slurry finally arrives and she walked into Crackie’s screen door. She must have been distracted by all those imaginary conversations she’s been having with Alexa.

They eat and drink, then the doorbell rings and Crackie runs into the house and locks them all outside. Their surprise arrives and it’s a gay clairvoyant who also reads colors.

He tells Crackie that she has a beautiful home and she says, “I know. I worked hard for it.”

His name is Dougall, she introduces him as Doobie and acts all flustered like his name is too hard to remember or weird or something. The rest of the crass bitches pick up that thread until he explains that it is an old Scottish name.

Gretchen replies that she has a little Scottish in her, thereby lobbing a softball to Tamra. Thank God that this scene is turning into The View with all the bitches talking at once so I couldn’t hear her say, “Only a little?” or something to that effect. Wow. This IS like high school.

Gretchen vehemently does not want a reading. I wouldn’t either, if I were her. Not so much because she has something to hide ( her skeleton closet is a walk-in Imelda Marcos style) but because Crackie arrainged this and who knows what she has told this guy ahead of time? Nooooo thanks.

He proceeds to tell her that he’s feeling that she’s in a new relationship and that it’s not good for her. Okay, Doogie the Soothgayer, anyone with an internet connection could tell you that.

Crackie chimes in with her old line about all there being so many fishes in the sea and you just had to pick the one with the barnacles and Tiger shark bite marks, and we come to Tamra.

Tamra is special. She has a blue aura which means that she is smart and pretty but has a fear of abandonment. Okay, this guy is a fraud. Everyone knows that Tamra’s aura is green. It’s powered by jealousy and old martini olives.

He tells her that she is approachable but stand-offish (WTF?) and that she shouldn’t question herself, but instead always speak the truth. Jeebus, Tamra.

He tells Alexis that she is too wrapped up in perfectionism and too critical of herself. He tells her that her family needs to have a “slob night” once in a while. She interviews about being an unbeliever in psychics. Jesus told her that they are full of shit.

He calls Crackie ‘auditory,’ meaning that she needs to hear affirmations all the time. She also needs to make more of an emotional effort with Donn. It may be smart to be bossy in the working environment but in personal relationships- not so much. She is Hella Pissed by this information but she absolutly refuses to admit it.
“I’m fine. I’m perfect.”

It turns out that Slurry is the one with the green aura. We ALL busted out laughing at that one, right Gasmii? And here’s a good question- with all those stupid cuffs she makes, she couldn’t find time to make even one of them with a little pot leaf on it? The sales at the head shops alone could put the Curtain family back in the black.

He tells her that she is very intuitive but that she needs to work on expressing herself. She says that he’s full of it and I say that she’s lucky that he was being so nice to her. It could have been way worse.

After some bullshit about how they are bonded into their own little tribe of disfunctional personalities and fake body parts, he tells them that he’s done. Tamra asks him to speak to her one on one.

Here come the fake tears again. She says that she is worried that her son will die young. Oh, come ON. Couldn’t you just ask about how to help him or what you could do to save the rapidly sinking ship that is your marriage?

No, she has to milk her moment for all it’s worth. I’m glad that Dougall sets her straight and tells her to leave him alone and he’ll be fine. He also says that Rapey Eyes may even get into real estate. Yay! Maybe he can sell that albatross of a McMansion for you, huh?

Dougall puts away his crystal ball and the girls do jell-o shots in preparation for tp-ing Mama Jeana’s house. They put on their matching black sweat suits and head on over to get “the one girl that bugs the shit out of you,” as Tamra so eloquently puts it.

Fuck you, Tamra. You are just jealous of the fact that Jeana is well respected in O.C. real estate and you are a crass piece of white trash with a dried out weave on your head. (Thank you, HD.)

They put on masks and crash into Michael’s room where he is on his laptop earning himself another useless piece of jewelry. He looks even more pissed than he was when Crackie busted in on him at college.

They are throwing toilet paper all over Jeana’s place when Tamra talks about payback. What the hell did Jeana ever do to you? It’s not like she ever tried to get YOU naked wasted, right? She could use some friendship bootcamp, maybe overseen by Rupaul.
I’m sure he’ll find that she has plenty of Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent.

Crackie doesn’t feel bad since they share the same gardener and poor Jorje will clean it all up for her. I can’t help but sit here and wish that one of Jeana’s dogs would pick this very moment to get loose again.

And then the slumber party that involved exactly zero slumber ends and they all drive home drunk. Literally. I hope that Alexis can get Jim to spare the rod tonight.

The vignette this week involves Brianna going Japanese disco bowling with some girlfriends and gay besties. I’m glad that she had fun with her Hibachi egg show, love her, no snark here, moving on.

Simon is helping little Sophie Richter with her ABCs when Ryan stops by to get his mail. Ususally Simon is gone on the days that he comes over but since booze salesmen have weird hours, he’s actually home.

When you’re done here, why don’t you crawl up Tamra’s ass. You should know the exact location of every polyp by now.

Totally by accident *cough* Nugget’s Daddy gets a call informing him that he got the fitness brand whatchamacallit job and Simon congratulates him. He also tells him that he has so much potential and I want to tell him to shut up, let the little loser enjoy his moment without giving him a lecture.

It is good to see that they are actually talking to one another and Simon cajoles an apology out of him. Yay! Your family is all better now, right Tamra? You tp-ed Jeana and all her drama, your son said he was sowwy, and Simon is letting you work so all is perfect in your world, right? Right?

If your family can put aside their issues for your sake, then maybe you should think about what you should do to change your own attitudes and actions, maybe get some counseling so your three youngest don’t grow up in a broken home like your oldest did.

Oh, well. It’s all just a dream, Gasmii. It’s all just a dream, and when the botox runs out and you have no idea where your teenaged daughter is at three in the morning? It starts to look like a nightmare.

We’ll see how perfect friend-mommy Slurry deals with THAT turn of events next time.

Love and kisses,
Twunty McSlore