Please forgive me in advance for being on the rag this week. Aunt Flo‘s fixin’ to drop by ANY SECOND. Even without my iCalendar I’d know it because A) I’m so bloated that literally every top I own would be met with the special resentment reserved by women for women trying to ensnare the first group of women’s boyfriends /husbands by tits alone. So I am stuck inside my exquisite but modest (aka cramped) Hollywood bungalow blogging in my Fat Bra and granny panties. And B) I got super-annoyed by the RHOA Previously On and realized this episode will heavily feature Sheree courted by smoove-choc’lit charlatan “Dr” Tiy- “E” “Muhammad” as well as NeNe holding a marriage-melting grudge against Gregg (aka Mr NeNe) for secretly borrowing $10K from ex-Main Gay Dwight. I WISH someone cared enough about me to bank behind my back. And it’s only 10 grand, for fuck’s sake. As an ex-teen model, I once spent that for my share of a summer villa rental in Sitges. And C) I’m pointlessly upset that people are no longer paying me ridiculous amounts of money to look kicky in mini-skirts while doing coke and sleeping with hot Algerian boys every chance I get. (Cut me some slack, por favor– I needed to stay skinny and I hate the taste of cigarettes.)
Mini McMansion. Kim and neckless dingbat assistant Sweetie pull up at night in the convertible Bentley to some house in the far-flung suburbs to drop by the “Kandi-Koated Nights” radio show, “where we get all the good, juicy, sexy stories”, according to Kandi, who’s way too talented and successful to be podcasting gossip, if you ask me. Kim knocks on the front door, but no one hears her, prompting Sweetie to “knock like a black girl”, which apparently means louder and faster. “White bitches can do that, too,” Sweets sassily informs Kim, who knockity-knocks with the same result: bupkis.
It dawns on Kim that they may need to go to the studio “in back”, where Kandi is announcing that tonight’s topic is “cheaters”, explaining Professional Mistress Kim’s role in the proceedings. Kim leads the way to the studio as fast as her black-shredded-legginged pins can carry her, asking Sweetie to clarify exactly what tonight’s show is. Sweetie says she thinks “it’s on PBS“, which Kim thinks is an odd place for a “sex show” hosted by a RH. Who says alcohol kills brain cells? Kim is ON IT, Gasmii! Kandi tells us that “for some reason”, people enjoy talking to her about relationships, so she created a “webcast” that’s a mash-up of potty-mouthed hags Dr Ruth and Sue Johanson, “Howard Stern and The View!” Speaking of Howard Stern, I am going to commit seppuku if his Sirius radio show contractually ends in six short weeks, which Howard has been totally threatening for months. Since he absolutely, 100% put Sirius on the map and allowed them to merge with (aka absorb) rival XM Radio with his endlessly hilarious daily show (which I obsessively listen to every solitary second of), they need to just pay him whatever it takes to keep that thing on. Six words: “Eric the Midget” and “Wendy the Retard“. Google them.
Sorry about that, but it needed to be said. OK, we’re back. Kandi makes things interesting right away by asking Kim “Do you have beef curtains?” OMFG! Of course the answer is yes– we all saw them last fall when tipsy Kimbo pulled a Britney in that infamous paparazzo upskirt upchuck that I thoughtfully included in this very blog for your viewing displeasure. Google it!
“I prefer the term ‘labially challenged’.”
Kim naturally denies it: “I have a very pretty vajayjay!” Mmm-hmm, whatever, Miss Deli Selects. Kim wisely changes the subject to Kandi’s “celibacy”. It seems that Kandi has a bet with one of her podcast pals, either Neeq or Nikki, I couldn’t make out which one, but they’re both on the air with her and have serious hair and wig issues. Kandi is trying to abstain from sex for an entire year “but at least I can talk about it,” she tells us. Hence the radio show.
Has Kim ever cheated on someone, Neeq asks. “You know she’s cheated!” Kandi hilariously interjects. Then she gets serious and wants Kim to explain her “cheating relationship”. Girlfriend got balls, y’all! Kandi, I mean. Kim is a false-eyelashed deer-in-headlights as she admits that “on paper, he’s cheated,” referring to her long-term romance with married real estate tycoon Lee Najjar, aka Big Poppa. The male point of view on Kandi-Koated Nights is represented by Corey, Kandi’s rather hot “friend”, who judgmentally brands Kim a cheater herself for helping a cheater cheat. Kim says “my needs were met” — and how, what with the Bentley, the townhouse and all the bling and blonde-wear a Black AmEx can buy. And no, I’ve never had one. My teen model needs were met with a gold card from CitiBank, which, like my career, no longer exists.
Medical office. It’s time to check in with recently the rhinoplastied and breast-lifted Ms Leakes, which means we see that little “NeNe” bumper with her soon-to-be-ex Gregg and sons Brentt and, more distractingly, Bricen, who has some kind of backstage pass clipped to the hem of his shirt, so if you squint it looks like a big brown dick flopping out of his pants.
(The squint, not the dick. Unless you want the clap, since it’s doubtful Brice’s hoochie club-trash keep their kitchens clean.) Anyway, NeNe’s in a robe on the table waiting for a follow-up exam and calling ex-model Cynthia, who, for some reason, is on her way to join NeNe.
Dr Whiteman and his assistant Miss Fatchick enter to check on NeNe’s procedures. The doc removes the tape from her new nose, which as you recall, she had “taken in” last week. NeNe loves it! And, she interviews, she doesn’t care who doesn’t. Then it’s time to open the robe and show off the pooch-lipo and implant-replacement, which, I have to say, both turned out AMAZING. Her stomach is flat and her tits are full but perky. I know Dr Whiteman is a respected professional M.D., but he looks like he’s getting a stiffy right now. NeNe wants her own: “I’m gonna get a penis enlargement,” she joshes via interview.
“Sweet Baby Jesus, you Nubian goddess…”
“Now let’s try it WITH the tassels…”
Cynthia is late and has to settle for walking out of the building with NeNe. At least Cyn brought her one of those Edible Arrangement things that they suddenly sell everywhere. Totes appropes, since it contains lots of melon. I used to think those things were an annoying Mafia money-laundering front until TVgasm sent me a huge one for taking over the RHONJ blog and I devoured all the pineapple and strawberries in one Tudors marathon. Thanks, Flipit! And how fuckable is that Henry Cavill?!? Gustoso! Cynthia teasingly calls NeNe a bitch for having cosmetic surgery on the DL. NeNe’s in a great mood because she’s just been given the doctor’s OK to resume her regular heroic wine consumption, but Cyn tells us she thinks NeNe’s nose was fine before. Cynthia, who freely admits to her own boob-job, agrees to bring NeNe home with her to drink wine and “chill”. NeNe doesn’t want to be near grouchy, mopey, gay-money-borrowing hubby Gregg, so off they go.
Casa Cynthia. Cyn takes NeNe back to her swanky brick house and breaks the blush champagne right out, although she seems to think one opens champagne with a corkscrew. Cynthia seems like a ditzy-but-bright, warmhearted gal who belongs on the same classier, duller show that our beloved Kandi does. But they’re stuck here. Sorry, ladies! I guess Phaedra‘s extreme “boughetto”-ness and obnoxious personality more than balance it out. NeNe plays out an age-old soap opera scene, lamenting to Cyn that she loves Gregg, but how long can she put up with his bad choices?
NeNe says she’s been “a loyal wife for 13 years”, adding “I done gave you my twenties and my thirties!” which is really more like 15-20 years but who’s counting. Gregg has “crossed the line” with a breach of trust. Is she talking about taking Dwight’s money? Or is she hinting that he cheated on her? I seem to recall something similar swirling around at the beginning of the season, but I might have been a little wasted on champers myself at the time. Cynthia confirms that NeNe “doesn’t want to go into specifics” about her marital woes, confirming Cynthia’s deep-seated phobia of all things matrimonial. May I suggest lunch with Apollo (Mr Phaedra) at a nearby nudist resort to clear your head, doll?
“My storyline may be dull, but has anyone else on this show fucked Robert DeNiro?… Didn’t think so.”
Cynthia refills NeNe’s strawberry-garnished Moet and asks point-blank if NeNe’s getting a divorce. NeNe replies that she’d “like nothing more than to stay with” Gregg… so that’s a yes. NeNe tells Cyn that Gregg is the father of Brentt and has been Brice’s stepdad since the slacker ex-teen was 9, then interviews that she doesn’t think couples split up over one thing, but over a tonnage of multiple issues that pushes them to “a breaking point”. Which is where NeNe finds herself. “I’m not be gonna puttin up with no more buuuulshit,” NeNe direly proclaims, “and I WILL start over if push come to shove. And it’s damn sure shovin right now. I am really thinkin about a divorce!” Alright, you can sample Apollo’s wares, too, gurl! After a year of phucking Phaedra’s phugly phanny, he’s certainly earned some strange.
Sheree’s tract mansion. Sheree welcomes lovely eldest daughter Tierra, 24, and her down-to-earth BF Damon over to “babysit” another of Sheree’s kids we’ve barely ever seen, son Kairo, 13, an attractive, well-behaved youngster who knows at least some of the Staub Sisters‘ pain. Tierra and Damon try to stave off Kairo’s death-by-embarassment by clarifying that they’re just there to “hang out”, not “babysit”, but it’s probably too late, since Sheree obviously either named the poor kid after either an Egyptian city or a high-fructose corn syrup (both misspelled, BTW). Sheree is off for a date with “Doctor” Tiy-E, who’ll be relaxing after a long day of snake-oil sales by cooking a romantic dinner for Her Ladyship at “his friend’s house.”
Sheree interviews that she’s wondering how Tiy can call himself “bicoastal” when he doesn’t have his own place on one of the coasts. And just what is that scarlet square of fabric flapping from atop that pole? Sheree tells Tierra and Damon about attending Tiy’s “relationship seminar” last episode, at which she was asked which was more important, “love or money”? Damon diplomatically guesses Sheree chose love, but Tierra knows the bitch rill well and laughingly disagrees with him. Sheree confesses that she said it was “50/50″, but it’s really “70/30″. Sheree says Tiy will be doing the cooking, and she’s going to give him “the benefit of the doubt” despite her preference for dining out “at a five-star restaurant”. Which they could certainly do if she packs a pair of running shoes for the moment after the check comes.
So Apollo and Bruce Vilanch are very close… what of it?!?
Casa Phaedra. A glam-squad of three (Stylist Monica, a hair gal and a make-up gay ) has been working on Phaedra for two or three hours days in preparation for a vanity shoot by photographer Spark St. Jude who sounds like a porn star but, luckily for porn fans, probably isn’t. Phaedra’s righteous, rotund mama, Pastor Regina, has made it clear she’s not a fan of exposed-stomach shots, but Phae will be sneaking a few in “to document” the fact that she’s actually preggers, perhaps because Phae shows all the maternal instincts of a Kentucky bullfrog. Apollo, dressed in his typical uniform of sexy jeans and a wife-beater (hint-hint), looks like warm, inked, maple-sugar candy as he answers the door to “Miss Spark”, who answers the question “What ever happened to Elayne Boosler?”
Phae says she wants “classy”, “artistic” “pregnancy photos”. You know, like Demi Moore, or that thing Sigourney Weaver fought in Aliens. Phaedra says she was inspired by a picture she saw of some expectant mother with “pickles”, although Phae’s diction is so bad it sounds like she’s requesting “pit bulls”. Apollo covers up his muscles in a nice white shirt and they go outside with a jar of kosher dills. Surprisingly, Phaedra chooses a simple white camisole, but doesn’t disappoint in the skank dept. when she and her plush lips start posing with a big, thick, super-phallic pickle. Spark thinks this is hysterical, giving us a nice granny-porn “Oh, yeah!” as Phae slurps and suckles. Delish!
Apollo joins her in front of the camera, both feeding her the pickle and being fed. And yes, he looks quite at home with that thing in his mouth, even though there’s nary a sauna dial nor corrections officer in sight. “You can suck it, you don’t have to chew it,” Spark drawls. I’ll take Things Pastor Regina Didn’t Say On Phae’s Wedding Day for 500, Alex.
“Oh, yeah, dat’s right… Then da Incredible Hulk says ‘Take it all, bitch!’”
Tiy-E’s friend’s house. First, it’s an apartment. And not a groovy downtown loft, either. You can tell right away that Sheree’s annoyed by this, as she tightly enters and follows Tiy to the kitchenette. Strike 2 occurs when Tiy “immediately puts me to work”, slicing strawberries. “I’m not used to manual labor,” she grunts, hair looking fabulous. Tiy “rewards” her with… a grape. Cue the eye-rolling. I know he’s broke, but couldn’t he have borrowed a TV and watched oh, let’s say, half an episode of this show? Sheree doesn’t want to cut fruit. She doesn’t want to spoon cookie dough onto a sheet. And she certainly doesn’t want to lick cookie dough from your thumb, Doctor. She wants to open presents from Tiffany’s and then lie there like a corpse while you bang her.
For all his self-proclaimed genius about women, Tiy can’t seem to read the signs that Sheree isn’t into this. She’s literally pushing his dough-encrusted paws away from her. And when she finally submits, she uses her front teeth to scrape the batter off his thumb. Hot. Tiy has made spaghetti. What is he, 8 years old? He tells her he’s been a vegetarian for years and is thinking of entering weight-lifting competitions to “show off” his body. Now this is more Sheree’s speed. In fact, she dares him to take his shirt off to show her how “swollen” he is. Wow. He invites her to take it off for him. Not since Hepburn & Tracy. Or Little Lupe & Evan Seinfeld. He stands up and she remains seated and unbuttons the shirt, which he quickly removes.
“Not bad… his body was alright,” Sheree tells us. “He didn’t have a belly, and that’s important, cuz I’m not doing bellies anymore.” Actually, he has a terrific bod, with sculpted, tiny-nippled pecs and some decent tatts. He leaves his shirt open as they continue eating and he asks what she thought of his seminar. Blah blah 60/40 blah 65/35 blah blah. Do he not have any money? Is that what he’s saying? Sheree bluntly inquires. He’s just saying he doesn’t “value” money over love. Clearly, if this first-college-apartment dinner is any indication. Could he at least have gone to the library and found an enchilada recipe online?
Let’s hope the “13″ tattooed to your chest doesn’t refer to your shoe size OR credit score…
All that love nonsense sounds delightful, Sheree tells him, then tells us “Love ain’t payin no bills!” She explains to Tiy that she likes travel and fine restaurants, not to mention blowing hundreds of thousands on abortive fashion lines and pricey acting-class theatrical showcases. And that hair does not come cheap. Gay Lawrence has her own bills to pay, so whoever marries Sheree will also be supporting the vodka and drag queen industries. Tiy asks for one last toast before they “call it a beautiful night”– here’s to “my lips touching your lips”. Yikes! Sheree sits there with the smile one has when one realizes one’s Always Infinity has just failed one and one’s new white pants.
“This is only our second date. It’s still early on. I just felt like he was really trying too hard. Maybe he hadn’t been on a date in a while– he didn’t know how to act,” Sheree interviews. After an eternity, she clinks glasses with him. Tiy: To peace, love and… Sheree: Money. She dispenses a super-chaste peck on the mouth and Tiy hopes that even though it’s not his apartment, he’ll still be able to find some jerk-off lube later.
Kandi’s house. Kandi finds cute 7-year-old daughter Riley playing with GarageBand on her MacBook. The tot has been practicing singing Kandi’s song “I Fly Above” and shyly attempts it for her mother. “Riley’s voice is still a kid’s voice, but I can hear the potential,” Kandi excitedly interviews. “She’s a little star on the inside.” Don’t worry, I’m sure Kandi’s not going to go all Teresa Jew-Dice stage mom on us. But she does exhort the girl to sing with “more confidence”. “I’m only 7,” Riley reminds her. “Can we do this later?” OK, that’s one of the warning signs for Stage Momism. But Kandi says sure, Riley needs to call her paternal grandmother anyway, since HER mother, Riley’s great-grandma, just died. I remember when I had great-grandmas. Jesus, I’m old.
“So you say you friended Brielle and THEN all these middle-aged pervs started messaging you?”
Anyway, Kandi tells us that Riley’s father, who hasn’t been around much if at all since her birth, now wants a relationship with her. I’m sure this show being a big smash hit has NOTHING to do with it. Men are such cunts. Kandi is naturally skeptical about this and Riley doesn’t seem too interested either. But it spells strong-black-woman-drama so I’m all for it. “I’m not going to that funeral,” Riley solemnly informs her mom. She looks and sounds like she’s 27. “I don’t really care if I have a dad or not,” Riley says. This is visibly sad for Kandi to hear. She interviews that Riley has built up a protective shell but that Kandi wants to encourage this relationship and would even like Riley to get to know her four half-sibs her father has “with another woman”.
Kandi reminds Riley she’s always saying she wants a little brother or sister. “That lives with ME,” Riley quickly clarifies. This Mac-proficient, journaling pre-tween is sharp as a tack, so don’t be trying any of that child-psychology bullshit on her, honey. Kandi says a baby bro or sis would require her to get a husband. Riley says not necessarily (!)– she’s not asking for a dad. But then she says “I want somebody like AJ to take care of me.” This mention of Kandi’s ex-fiance is another jab to Kandi’s tear ducts. She explains to us that she’s always conscious of the effect her boyfriends might have on Riley, who became very attached to the late, fertile AJ. Kandi tells Riley “one day” she hopes to have another baby, then smothers the tyke with kisses.
Intimacy Bra-Fitting Specialists. Cynthia & NeNe go shopping. Cyn tells us that “even though we haven’t set a date and Peter hasn’t officially proposed”– and she is seriously nupto-phobic– she needs to “start planning” her wedding. And her honeymoon. And “bachelorette party”, which Cyn seems to be more excited about than the actual marriage. Now that NeNe has “smaller implants”, she needs new bras. And Bravo needs to get a few hetero male eyeballs in front of their shows, so here we are. Tits out! “Let’s just keep it real. I don’t even like to wear a bra… cuz I paid money for my titties to stand up,” NeNe tells us.
“NeNe, I’m confused. I thought you made them SMALLER…”
NeNe fills out a form (does she ever!) so she can better be fitted for her new boulder-holder. The saleslady says the store stocks sizes “up to K“, which NeNe says is freakishly huge. The clerk prefers the term “very full”. Like the Rite-Aid checkout line at 2 AM when I’m trying to use a $2-off introductory coupon for Always Infinity. Cynthia wants to invite the Wives over for “a Mother’s Day brunch– sort of like a girls’ night out, but with the kids.” I go out to specifically NOT interact with kids, apart from those with fake ID’s and tireless erections.
Cynthia says she’s having it catered and wants to know how NeNe would feel about Phaedra and Apollo coming. “Dat’s cool,” NeNe says, meaning “a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s producers tell her she got to do”. NeNe confirms this by sarcastically telling us “Great… that’s just how I wanna spend my Mother’s Day.” But now it’s time to try on bras. And these chicks ain’t shy about it. After all, Cynthia’s an ex-model and NeNe, is, well, NeNe. NeNe comes barreling out of the dressing room in a pink 34F. I may have overestimated her body a little during the exam scene, but she still looks a’ight. NeNe and Cynthia are both shocked Cynthia wears a D-cup. Good for her! NeNe comes out in a “sexy” bra, leopard-print, and struts and poses like an ex-stripper on Vicodin. (I don’t care if she got the greenlight for wine– you KNOW she refilled those pain meds to the max. I sure as hell would have– between Gregg, Brice and Playa the Yorkie crapping his doggie-diapers, the only one in that house she doesn’t need to be medicated for is young Brentt. Who I’m sure will get NO shit on the playground for this bra segment .) NeNe interviews that she’s “never had a confidence problem” and refers to her new chest as “hooker boobs: real high, nipples to the sky.” Amen, chile. She and Cyn both spend hundreds on their new titty togs and as they walk out, NeNe advises her gorgeous new pal to “Step it up and show Peter some AZZ cheek.”
Joyce‘s house. Kandi stops by her mom’s. Last season, I took an instant dislike to Joyce, dismissing her as a crabby old bat intent on controlling her famous daughter’s life. I thought her freezing out late BF AJ was so not cool, but as we got more information and learned AJ had literally loads of kids by other women scattered around town, and that Kandi was going to marry this questionably employed, laconic prize without a pre-nup to protect her substantial assets, I quickly jumped sides and felt like giving Baby Girl a stern talking-to myself. Anyway, Joyce DID make an effort to accept AJ, but luckily Kandi broke up with him before she ended up a widow responsible for someone else’s debts/kids.
“Look, I had AJ taken out and Riley’s deadbeat daddy’s gonna be next…”
Kandi has stopped by for advice “about Riley and her dad”. Kandi says the guy sometimes goes “8 months” without calling Riley, and now that he’s suddenly all interested in bonding, Kandi finds it a bit hard to believe. And Riley “is over it”. Joyce says Riley formed this opinion all on her own– Joyce doesn’t discuss Daddy Douchey with her granddaughter so as not to stir the pot. But as we know Joyce has no patience for absent, irresponsible fathers. Kandi becomes emotional expressing her pain at the way Riley’s papa treats the girl. Kandi interviews that she “never had a really close relationship” with her own father and “I really hate that.” Joyce says Kandi’s doing the best she can and Riley has “a strong mama and a very strong grandmama” and “she gonna be alright”. Not sure this solved the problem, but we still heart Joyce!
Georgia Baby & Kids. Kim arrives for some shopping with chubby tween daughter Ariana, who is warned not to to start running around in a spend-crazed spree a la The Jew-Dice Goils. Kim tells the clerk they want to “upgrade” the tot’s bedroom. The clerk says they can design something especially for Ariana’s personality. Ariana tells the clerk her hobbies include “eating chicken”… and obviously not grilled skinless breasts with a side of steamed broccoli. I’m not saying the kid’s fat, but her dream bed should probably include a canopy AND titanium steel reinforcements. Kim nixes Ariana’s suggestion of sports-themed chairs. I’m telling you, we have the trailer park version of Cher and Chaz right here, Gasmii.
Jesus, while you’re at it, why not throw in flannel pajamas and some Indigo Girls wallpaper?
Casa Cynthia. It’s Mother’s Day and it’s raining, dampening Cyn’s brunch plans, but the show must go on. Cyn confers with the caterers, telling them it’s a difficult crowd into fawning, lavish service. Cynthia looks stunning in a single-strap summer dress and spiky ‘do. Her sis/assistant Malorie is on hand for bitch-wrangling. Kim calls and cancels last-minute: whiskey-voiced teen sexpot Brielle “has a fever”. Yes, those often accompany a herpes breakout. She’s 13 and looks and acts 46– put her to bed with some Teen Mom reruns and get your flaky blonde ass over there!
Cynthia gives the bad news to elderly fiance Peter, and also warns him that Gregg and NeNe are on the rocks. Peter sounds like he’s already got a foot in the grave and couldn’t care less about any of this. Riley, Kandi and Joyce arrive first, followed closely by Phaedra, sadly sans trophy bride Apollo. Phae snootily tells us “Cynthia lives in a regentrication zone, which is basically when they make the ‘hood into the suburbs.” First of all, dumb-ass, the word is gentrification. And secondly, some of us, i.e. cool people with taste, prefer to live in exciting, colorful urban areas instead of having our souls sucked out by the homogenous, faux-riche gated-community “lifestyle”. Fuck, I’ll be right back. Someone’s breaking into my car.
You don’t have to flip the lids down– he only LOOKS dead.
Phae is toting a wine bottle in a sequined pink cozy and assures Cynthia that Apollo is on the way. It’s Mother’s Day, and the glory holes at the mall are really busy. Phaedra trundles in and greets Cyn’s 10-year-old daughter Noelle. Joyce remarks that the tall, pretty tween may end up modeling like her mom, which Phaedra insultingly counters by telling the tyke “Be a lawyer… get yo’ money, honey!” Right, because Cynthia has such an unenviable salary history. I’d like to barge in and administer a vocabulary test and watch Noelle (and probably Riley) mop the floor with Attorney-2-Da-Thugz. Grampa Peter says he’s looking forward to meeting Apollo after “that limo ride” during which Phae proclaimed the moral superiority of marrying a man with no kids. A FLASHBACK of Phae in that stupid pink hat reminds us just how much of an asshole she is. (“I say Lord, you gotta bring me somebody CLEAN!” How exactly does all that prison rectum taste on hubby’s cock, Counselor?)
Peter tells Kandi that after this incident he asked Cynthia “Am I dirty?” Phae backpedals, explaining that she “dated” men “with lots o’baby-mamas, and so, you know, Kandi know about dat…” Don’t drag Kandi into your bullshit, heifer! Joyce will fuck you up! NeNe arrives in a short leather jacket, accompanied by Brentt. Right behind them are Sheree, Tierra and very nervous-looking 10-year-old other daughter Kaleigh. Of course she’s nervous, she’s never seen TV cameras before. OK, maybe once. What if Sheree was YOUR mother, Gasmii? Pobrecita!
Everyone digs into a scrumptious buffet. Cynthia arranged a grown-ups’ table outside on the balcony, putting Brentt with the little girls. He jokingly asks if they want to talk about “the Cavaliers game”. I don’t follow football so he’s on his own. Kandi interviews that NeNe’s nose-job “caught me off-guard at first” and wonders why no one’s bringing it up. But it only takes two seconds for Sheree to start probing about NeNe’s trip to the beauty doctor. “I contoured my nose,” NeNe confesses. Sheree interviews that although she feels the rhinoplasty was unnecessary, it’s NeNe’s business. How magnanimous of you. When’s Phae’s due date? Sheree asks. And now the fun starts.
“I disremember the exact date of contraception…”
Phaedra says it was “July 26th or August 1st“. Um, which one? Phae insinuates that early labor will be induced because it’s somehow medically necessary. Or something. Joyce asks isn’t it dangerous to have a baby “at six or seven months?” Oh, no, not if everything’s “fully formed”, Phae assures them. Sheree tells us she found Phae’s waffling bizarre: “Bitch, you don’t know when you got knocked up?” Phae tells them that the baby is sitting “on my bladder”, which resulted in a recent “lotta bleeding” episode. So she wants that thing “up outta here”. Sheree interviews that “one thing I can do is add” and this is “not adding up.” So Phae’s “more like 6 months?” Cynthia asks. Phaedra says she’s not sure, but “at 34 weeks, he’s gonna come.” What we all want to know, dear, is when he already came, and exactly who “he” might be. Wouldn’t it be fab if they backtime this shit to Apollo being behind bars? Questionable parentage is after all a proud Southern tradition.
“Shut up! That is so stupid,” NeNe scoffs via interview. “Chicks from da hood don’t even know who dey pregnant BY and they know how far they are. It was either not his baby or she got pregnant before she got married.” Tell it, girl! Phae says she needs the gang’s advice, “cuz I don’t know nuthin about babies.” NeNe’s first tip is “keep him in until he’s ready to come out.” Phae doesn’t want to hear this. NeNe tells us “A lot of attorneys are good liars”, but Phae couldn’t even come up with “a good lie” for them. Sheree changes the subject to Kandi-Koated Nights. Does Joyce listen to the prurient podcast?
Kandi says her mom has been a guest “a couple times” and they “talked about dildos“. Everyone shrieks. Where’s Apollo when you need him? “The viiiiision, the thought!” NeNe squeals at us, interviewing that she needed to be “taken to the psychiatric ward” after picturing Joyce test-driving enormous latex phalli. Kandi says she promised to get her mom a dildo “for Mother’s Day”. I like Joyce even better now, don’t you? Sheree is hungry for filthy stories from Kandi’s kall-in’s, so Kandi obliges, offering a sex tip about Pop Rocks, which Kandi recommends as a fellatio enhancer. NeNe is disgusted and admits she doesn’t like giving oral, which shocks Kandi. Sheree says “I useta didn’t” and Cynthia confesses that she likes to get head, not give it.
“You know what? I got bills to pay.”
Not to be outdone, Phaedra says to give proper blow jobs, one has to “complete the full act”. “She swallows?!” Sheree squawks, then tells us that “in a relationship, I’m a sexual person. But it has to be an emotional bond. I am a lady.” That’s what I’ve been saying all along, isn’t it? Kandi’s kinky kupboard also includes sugar. You wet your finger, roll it around in the stuff, then insert into “your vajajay” for a sweet treat! Phaedra forgets her classy Southern self and says that she prefers to use “powdered sugar” because it makes syrup– “it’s deee-licious!” If I were Apollo, I’d want powdered sugar, Haagen-Dazs, hot fudge, whipped cream AND a banana before I’d consider going down there.
NeNe pretends to gag and tells us “I would never put Kool-Aid, candied yams, peppermint… pancake syrup… none of those things in my vajajay. Dat’s crazy!” Well, you ARE getting divorced, so perhaps you might rethink that. Peter finally gets a break from listening to the small fry discuss Rihanna, rollercoasters and sexting when Apollo shows up with a big gift-wrapped gold box. Peter introduces him to the ladies as “Mr Clean”. Get it? The box contains Phaedra’s Mother’s Day present, a Gucci diaper-bag. Now WE can all throw up. Phae tells us Apollo “must’ve asked my assistant. He is finally learning how to do it.” I hope it contains a Blackberry compartment so she can call HER lawyer after she shakes the poor kid to death.
Imagine this looming over your crib…
Sheree interviews that “Apollo rollin up and givin Phaedra the Gucci bag in the middle of dinner was a little tacky– you didn’t see her before she left the house?” Then she does this hilarious wide-eyed fierce ghetto head move, and for a second I forget how much I hate her. NeNe asks the men if they ever felt guilty for “stepping out” on their partners then coming back home. Way to keep Gregg out of it! Kandi finds the question odd, and Peter says he thinks it was directed at “young dude” Apollo. Because Peter has lived a long (make that very long) life and has done it all, so he doesn’t need to “step out”. NeNe boldly declares that she’s “never been a real sexual person” and is “very really low-key in the bedroom… I’m just a wide receiver… take over me! I don’t wanna work too hard.” Again, I invoke your upcoming divorce. And so does Peter, when he rather drunkenly bellows “Maybe that’s why a whole lotta sh*t is goin on right now!” Cynthia is mortified. She told Peter not to bring up Gregg. We heard her.
NeNe, pumped full of champers and Percodan, angrily replies that her 13-year relationship “has nuthin to do with sex”. Maybe it does, Peter argues. If sex isn’t #1, it’s a close 2. NeNe scoffs that it’s “three or fo”, then interviews that she likes Peter, “but he absolutely crossed the line.” Peter walks out as everyone looks uncomfortable. NeNe tells the girls (and Apollo, so, the girls) that she and Gregg have lost communication and trust. She says she’s depended on Gregg “to take care of me” for so long, she’s afraid of striking out on her own. She tells us she wishes she had her mom to help her through, but she died around the age of 40. Joyce pipes up and says she’s 60 now and if she could go back 20 years she’d “cut it off” with her husband. NeNe has one life to live, and she should be bold and beautiful.
Yes, we’re also wondering what’s up with the televangelist hair.
Kandi tells us Joyce and Kandi’s stepfather are still married but have been “separated since I was in the 6th grade.” OMG, who’s Joyce married to, Ed O’Neill?! When he became a TV superstar on Married… With Children, he broke up with his wife but kept her in a crappy little Hollywood apartment, paid her rent and banged her once a year. (Allegedly.) Of course, this is the same man who took the MWC crew out for lunch when he was making $350K per episode and at the end asked if they could split the check. All I can say is poor Sofia Vergara. Anyway, Kandi says being legally married puts a definite hitch in Joyce’s dating. Joyce tells NeNe she wishes she’d have given herself the chance “to have a life”.
NeNe interviews that she’d never met Joyce until today and now they have a connection. And a hug. “I wasted a whole lotta time,” Joyce tells them, and I’m really close to weeping right now. Fucking menstruation.
Next week: Kim is a horrible singer and doesn’t like the new song Kandi wrote for her. Kim tries to sell all of her belongings. NeNe tells Cynthia she definitely wants a divorce.
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