RHOA: Whore-Land O’Doom

Dear Gasmii–

Our Atlanta ladies must have some mighty sore teats right now, because Bravo has milked this franchise beyond all reasonable limits. Used to be we were sad that a Real Housewives series was ending for the season– they’d leave us wanting more, and we’d plunge gratefully into the next RH in the rotation. But clearly everyone’s just a little too well-behaved, since it’s now Episode 14 and I for one am screaming for mercy. The only HW we can count on for cheap yuks is Phaedra, and even that cow seems to have mellowed. I mean she and Kim were seen practically braiding each other’s weaves last week. SIGH…

South Carolina. It’s Day 2 of Kandi & Kim‘s mini-tour and when we last left our bewigged belly-acher she was crashing on a couch because she’s claustrophobic. And a narcissistic sociopath. The fun begins when a phone-alarm blasts Sleeping Wiggy with her own hit dance-tune “Tardy for the Party“. I know, super-pathetic, right? But turns out the “misplaced” phone belongs to hapless neckless spineless assistant Sweetie, which actually makes Sweetie very Creepie. Kim shows the same manners she rocks OFF the bus by loudly molesting her sleeping underlings, smacking Sweetie in her bunk and whipping the sheets away for a tantalizing glimpse of Sweets’ bra and panties, which Celebrity Wig Stylist Derek J probably has on, too, but all we see is his sleepy transvestite head covered with a wig cap. “Wake up and serve my needs!” Kim demands, and the first order of business is to pull this rig over to the breakdown lane so Miss Broken-Down can have a smoke. She’s already tried to light her cig with the griddle in the kitchenette, so I hope no one wanted pancakes for breakfast.

Don Juan neglected only one detail of the tour: to request photo-angle approval…

Tour manager Don Juan forbids a stop right now– Kim’s excessive cancer-sticking has already put them way behind schedule for Orlando. And now Kandi gets an unwelcome personal wake-up call from Sweetie– “I’m not a morning person, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t talk to me,” Kandi snaps from her berth. No prob, Kim’s already hounding Danny the Bus Driver to pull over. Apparently unfamiliar with the chain of command on this super-glam concert voyage, he does. Kim interviews that next time she wants a clean, new bus that will stop “every 3 hours” for nicotine breaks, a personal chef, and “a potty” that fits her big bohunkus. Kandi tells us she’s sick of Kim and Sweetie trampling on her nerves with their Level 10 Obnoxiousness. Now Kim’s on the phone with NeNe, telling her soon-to-be-ex-again-BFF that the next show is in Orlando tomorrow night. Kandi isn’t thrilled that NeNe’s invited to join the tour early and then go to Miami on the bus for a full-cast Housewife reunion. Kim thinks her sassy sistah will help “relieve tension” on the trip but you know it’s going to be one big rolling catfight. So that’s something to look forward to, I guess. That and the sweet silence of the grave. Sorry, my gaybor has been blasting Willow Smith all morning. See how much whipping you do when I rip those highlights OUT YO GAY HEAD!

PERSONAL-ASSISTANT SKID-MARK CHECK!

Channel 11 News/Tour bus. Anchorwoman Rondell Sheridan announces on the 6 AM broadcast that NeNe’s first-ever interview segment featuring “a big-time music star” which we already know is Munchkin mix-master Jermaine Dupri, whose awkward visit with NeNe and cameras has been saved in the editing room by our multi-talented chesty piece-puffer. “Puttin together my Jermaine Dupri piece was like pullin teeth. I had to go into the editing room and make magic happen!” NeNe interviews. Good. Now she knows how the RHOA post-production staff have felt all season. Kandi, Kim and Sweetie gather ’round the laptop for a supposedly streaming webcast of NeNe on the news. She promises “one of the biggest names in the music industry”, which is really a stretch. I might have gone with “one of the top 10 Atlanta producers to have fucked Janet Jackson.” We see the cut-together interview and it includes a nice drive-by aimed at Kim when NeNe asks Jermaine if it’s tough launching a “new artist” who’s over 30. Kandi smirks and Kim looks pissed. She should be thrilled she’s getting ANY TV publicity not on Bravo.

Rondell asks NeNe if Jermaine mentioned his former Good Times-star-GF, and the answer is of course no. His publicist Saptosa expressly forbade that. (And remember, Saptosa can only be diagnosed by a trained medical professional. Symptoms include dizziness, restless legs and fecal urgency.) NeNe’s spin is that bringing up Wiggy was the only way to get Jermaine to perk up and answer questions, because who doesn’t like making fun of Kim? Kim sees it differently, snipping that NeNe wanted to sing on “Tardy” and SHE’S over 40. Don Juan says he doesn’t think the mention was “that negative”. Kandi wisely advises Kim to just put on a great show in front of NeNe in Orlando.

“Oh, yeah, Brielle?!… Well, I’ve seen Breakin Bad and I’m pretty sure the good shit’s supposed to be BLUE.”

Phaedra‘s tract mansion. Cynthia & Sheree drop by to see little Ayden Adonis for the first time, which means last week’s Slurp-N-Stare party was shown out of sequence. For shame! Phae proudly shows off AA’s full lips and long fingers, which the infant obligingly models like he just got a manicure. Phae says sex-bomb ex-con stud/husband Apollo claims the baby looks just like him, “all white-like”. She is SO obsessed with Apollo’s biracial genetics– and it’s super-clear she sees the Caucasian component as something negative. Considering his dreamy creamy tawny honey-brownish looks are, oh let’s say, 98% of why she married him, it seems just a tad twatly for her to keep making digs at his half-honkydom. Phae has made a delightful lunch of chicken salad, colorful fresh fruit and hand-squeezed lemonade and reminds us that she’s really just “Martha Stewart” trapped in Johnny Cochran‘s body. With a generous dash of Flip Wilson‘s Geraldine thrown in. (YouTube it, chile, you’ll see!)

How DO you do it all, Sheree sucks up and asks. Phae confesses that she has “such a filling of being overwhelmed” she totally needs a break, so the bachelorette weekend/Kandi-Kim-Koncert in Miami comes at a perfect time for her AND Cyn. AA is so cute and chill I almost forget how much I don’t like babies, until Cynthia tries to hold him and he loudly yarfs all over her tits! Then I remember. I bet Phae thinks that’s what Cyn gets for saying AA will be “cute like Daddy” when he grows up… as opposed to phroggy like Mommy.

“Ribbit.”

Tour bus. They stop for lunch at an adorable little roadside shack with a weather-beaten wooden sow near the front steps. That’s because it’s called “The GA Pig“, which I think means Georgia but with the Deliverance theme plinking hilariously away on the soundtrack, who the hell knows. “Is this a fuckin joke?” Kim, the Queen of Fast Food, snarls. A dirty hand-lettered sign announces that “Shirt and Shoe’s [sic]” are required, and that also applies to ambulatory rugrats, so I’m awarding it a point right there. “I just wanna a soda and a glassa wine,” Kim sighs to Derek J, who might want to rethink his outfit of Daisy Dukes. high-heeled combat boots (LOVE those) and a skintight Pop-Art t-shirt emphasizing his man-boobs. He looks like a lesbian celebrating Memorial Day in Provincetown. Kim doesn’t “eat meat” (coulda fooled us, bitch) so she’s disgusted at being taken to a BBQ joint, which I’m sure must also have chicken on its menu. “Wine to the rescue,” Kim tells us, happy for any excuse for a liquid lunch.

Kim parks her “fat ass” in a lawn chair in the dirt next to the bus and Driver Dan appears with a bottle of chardonnay. Kandi remarks that Kim looks like she’s at a tail-gate party, but Don Juan, who despises Kim, goes further and compares her to “a slave-master” fanning herself on De Ole Plantation. LOL! Kim? Not amused. And to give her a shred of credit, I really don’t think racism belongs on the list of Kim’s many, many shortcomings. Kandi gets a gust of cig-smoke blown in her face, then gets snapped at by Sweetie for saying so. Awfully uppity for an assistant, don’t you think so, Gasmii? Kim is the opening act after all.

“Good news, Helen! Fed Ex gave me an extra day off, so we can stay for the Tracy Chapman show!”

Casa Cynthia. Elderly fiance Peter glumly cooks lunch as Cyn enters. Ever since his restaurant started to tank, Gramps and Cynthia have been having relationship issues, “but I’m still trying to pull off the perfect wedding,” Cyn tells us, oblivious to the fact that ANY wedding to this crank-bucket is congenitally imperfect. She says she just came from trying on her fabulous (translation: ridonkly pricey) dress and she’s miffed at his dead response. They’re 15 days from the altar and that’s “scarin the hell outta me”, he says, since he just today cut his losses and “officially closed Uptown.” Cyn seems mildly disturbed by this news, because it’s embarrassing for people to go there and see a Closed sign on the door, and BTW where are they going to get the cash to pay for the million-dollar nuptials now, much less pay her back for all the money she dumped into the place?

I heart Cynthia but Jesus H Christ. Was she not aware of the declining supper-club business when she and Fussy Fat Wedding Gay were out wildly overspending this season?! Even if Pete wasn’t a total asshole, this was a stupid, stupid plan. Gramps says he’s gonna be real with her and informs her that if he can’t find $20K, they can’t get married the way they planned. So they’ve already spent $980K??! Oy. But don’t panic, he advises in a dead, hopeless voice. “It’s not a lot of money, it’s $20K…” That? Right there? Maybe that’s why they’re financially fucked. Then things get really nasty– he doesn’t want her to ask anyone for the money, he’ll find it his own manly self and “this is the last time I’m tellin you anything!” So why bring it up, dickhead?! He’s basically putting the whole thing on her, like he’ll resent her even more than he already does if she doesn’t call his bluff and cancel the whole thing. Which is so what she should do. Instead she cries and he comforts her by repeating that he’s never telling her anything, then says he’s sorry. Cancel your tee-time, Suze Orman, we need you…. BAD.

“Produce your album for you, Kim? Girl, if you were a litterbox and I was a cat, I wouldn’t produce SHIT for you.”

Tour bus. It’s 9 PM on Day 37 2 and as they cross into Florida, Kim tells Derek to get started on her show-hair. When the transvestite wig-meistress points out that the concert’s not till tomorrow, she bristles (see what I did there?), telling us there’s no reason she can’t park the portable coiffed hooker-do and have it ready to go. Sweetie! Where’s my hair??! In a plastic bag, flattened, underneath the gal in her bunk. Kandi interviews amazement that Sweets can put up with Kim’s constant barked orders. “That check must be GOOOOD!” LOL. Kim loudly calls chubby tween daughter Ariana as Don Juan grimaces in agony nearby. Ariana immediately bursts into tears, whining “I MISS YOUUUUU!” as if she’s not out of diapers and Kim didn’t leave 48 hours ago. Kim is distressed by the tot’s plaintive mucusy bleating and says she wishes the girls could be at the liquor-licensed establishment to hear her sing. About partying and dripping sweaty boy-toys and getting rings from married BF’s. Que lastima!

Kim interviews that she’s questioning her decision to go on tour because it’s so upsetting for her therapy-deprived moppet. “You’re my best friend!” Kim drawls into the phone. Isn’t that what Anna Nicole used to say about Dannielynn? Kim hangs up and beds down on a couch for the night, not asking where the hell that purity-pushing little teen ween-tease Brielle is. Probably making some French exchange student venir in his pantalons. Sweetie coos comfort in basso nicotino tones, mounting Kim on the couch and dabbing her mistress’s totrtured tears. IT’S BEEN 2 FUCKING DAYS!!!! When I was 8, I spent entire summers away from my mom and only spoke to her once a week. Of course that was mostly because trying to call San Juan long-distance from Long Island required three operators and a short-wave radio. Kim reminds us and herself that she’s doing this all for her kids and “I’m all they have.” Sarcasatire Love (cue the Salahi douche-chills!), can you get on this and find out where their surely deadbeat dad is in all this?! Thanks!

The tear-ducts may be Botox-debilitated, but the pain is real.

Tour bus. Next morning, Don Juan announces they’ll be doing “meet ‘n’ greets” at a hair salon. Kim scoffs at this (and why not, she’s probably bald) and declares “I need some food!” Delicious, nutritious puffs of yummy smoke. DJ snips that she’ll eat, but pleasing the mp3-buying public is more important. Kim claims she’s just kidding with her cunty attitude but we know better. And so does DJ. And Kandi. They pull up and DJ advises Kim to put shoes on before she steps out for her breakfast-by-Marlboro. Running around barefoot is “another thing white people do,” he snips. Sweetie says she does it, too. DJ: That’s because you hang around with white people. He’s sassy. Sweetie snips back that she’s from “Nigeria“. Yeah, me, too, honey. [That's Leia talking, not DJ.] Karen and Rosario exit the bus and Kandi tells the others Sweetie’s “attitude sucks”– Kandi doesn’t like “snappy” assistants. Sweetie tattles to Kim, who pokes her wig back inside and yells “What’s wrong with hangin out with white people?!” Kandi’s like “WTF” and so Don Juan tattles that Sweetie tattled. Kandi’s had enough and stomps out of the bus for a beat-down!

Kandi tells Sweetie that they were only kidding, and that Sweets has been taking everything “way too” seriously the entire trip. “All day you’ve been uptight!” Kandi says. “You’ve been talkin shit ALL DAY!” Sweetie denies this when she should shut up and apologize because unlike Kim, Kandi could actually help the neck-free Nigerienne get a better job when this blissful cruise down River Kim comes to its abrupt and inevitable finale. What makes this especially delectable is that it’s happening right outside the beauty parlor and a bunch of security guards and lucky fans get to hear all of it. Kandi is irate that Sweetie is constantly spitting sarcasms but when other people make jokes, she can’t take it and whines to Kim like a pissy little abortion. And… pose for pix with a salon full of RH junkies! Were any of you there? But seriously– don’t fuck with Kandi. She might be part Rican.

“Pssst, Kandi! It’s me, Kim. Don’t look, but the woman next to me’s hair’s on fire and she’s got rollers comin outta her gut.”

One Midtown Kitchen. Cynthia and non-snappy assistant/sister Malorie meet NeNe for lunch. Cyn spills the boo-hoo beans about Gramps closing Uptown today. Cynthia interviews that she could book a few modeling gigs and earn some cash over the next few months, but they need money TODAY. OMFG– does this girl need God Herself to skywrite “CALL IT OFF” in giant pink letters?! Cyn tells NeNe that Grampa only “tells me what he thinks I can handle”… does Gregg do that? NeNe: Who’s Gregg? Just kidding. NeNe says her soon-to-be-ex tells her nothing, except for a few lies now and then. NeNe actually can relate 100% and tells us that financial omissions are a giant “red flag”– NeNe “had to learn the hard way”. What does Malorie think, NeNe asks. Mal somberly says that even though she’s been “rooting for the marriage”, “they should postpone it.” Thank you! NeNe agrees. Marriages break up “over finances and sex”, and they should “call it off”. Yay.

Cyn interviews that unlike NeNe and Mal, she’s always made her own money. So she doesn’t really care that Gramps can’t support her. But since Uptown hit the skids, “Peter’s been a nightmare to be around.” A NIGHTMARE TO BE AROUND. Please, Nightmare, let me forsake all others ’til death do us part. Cynthia argues that this wedding is the only thing she’s had to look forward to. “Don’t get caught up in the wedding part!” NeNe exclaims. Mal asks Cyn if she’s happy with her situation right now, because after this marked-up pig-frig, it’s only gonna get worse. Oh, Mal… the bullshit you must have suffered through– supermodel sis, crabby fiance-in-law, rinsing out Miss Andy’s dirty panties at the Bravo retreat… Sweetie could learn a thing or two from you, girl! And in case you’re in suspense, readers? Cyn? Not calling it off.

“What’s up, honey? You elopin? Lemme help you pack.”

Sheree’s tract mansion. Props to Her Ladyship for not saddling shockingly well-adjusted eldest Tierra with the Whitfield Twins, Kaleigh and Kairo, while Mama’s off hedonizing in Miami with everyone. What? They’re not twins? Sorry, they’ve only been onscreen for a total of 40 seconds in the last 3 seasons, so forgive me. Their deadbeat pro-athlete rich dad Bob Whitfield will be babysitting in California, although Sheree guesses he’ll subcontract the task out to HIS mother, who must really love Ree-Ree, especially since this thing started airing. Sheree’s son is quite the hunk-in-training, for those of you who like your chicken mole-style, and he, like his baby sister Kaleigh or Kairo (with those wack names, who can tell them apart), is too embarrassed or truthful to willingly admit to missing Sheree while she’s away. Does this mean Kim’s a better mother?! My douche runs cold!

“Whoever you are, you betta treat my little girl right!”

Phaedra’s tract mansion. Phae prepares breakfast and we learn that A) Apollo looks very good in black; and B) Phaedra risks rolling over and smothering little AA to death by sleeping with him in bed with her like a cuddly circumcised teddy. I’m pretty sure I saw a tragic 90′s Oprah about how you’re not supposed to do this. And while we’re at it, how out-of-control was O on that new Piers Morgan interview yawnfest last week? In between calling herself “The Love Brand” and yakking about how actualized she is, we learned absolutely NOTHING personal for an hour except how in love with Gayle she is. If she’s not the world’s most repressed lesbian, my tits are real. Phae says she slept OK last night, then needles Apollo about his undisturbed slumber, to which he accuses her of “hoarding” the baby and “smothering the cry” so he can’t hear it. With a newborn AND her donkey-booty sharing his bed, he needs to hush and be grateful no one’s pestering him.

According to Apollo, “when [AA] cries, you just flip your breast out and put it in his mouth”. That could be YOUR mouth, pal. I wonder if he sleeps naked. That’s quite a mental picture. And are we supposed to believe he not only knows Sheree’s weave queen Flawrence but that Apollo spent 6 years behind bars without a man’s mouth on HIS sculpted breast? And now he’s interviewing in a pink shirt: “If I… could breastfeed, I would get up and help out, but I don’t, so… I kinda lay there and chill out.” Hey– there IS such a thing as penis-feeding. Ask an incest survivor. No, not me, despite what my horny teen cousins would get up to with their skank dates at the drive-in while I watched Twitch of the Death Nerve in the front seat. (TVgasm Plug: Check out my new Horrorgasm entry. Somebody. Please. Leave a comment before they stop sending me Blu Rays.)

“…Well, I’ll tell you how it happened. When she takes her hair off, from behind she looks a lot like my old cellmate.”

It’s time for Phaedra “to get back to my cases”. As a top entertainment attorney, she only took 6 weeks’ maternity leave, and there are plenty of unsigned rappers with pressing marijuana and/or weapons defense needs. Phae starts whining about how Apollo’s “life hasn’t changed at all”– he can run out to the gym and/or mall whenever he wants while she’s saddled with an adorable double-ended goop-spewer. And BTW, who in their right mind would tell this gorgeous human trophy to work out LESS. Not me, that’s for sure. As long as he brings home jizzy jockstraps and no AIDS, we coo. Apollo offers to “designate days” when he’ll volunteer for child-care duties. “But you don’t have patience,” Phae snips, handing over the squalling tyke, who quiets right down in Polly’s muscular embrace.

Apollo “has no idea” of the sacrifices made by a top new mom-slash-attorney, she tells us. AA starts fussing again and she takes him back, giving Phae a good place to mention the Miami trip this weekend. “Hallelujah, you wanna leave early?” he “kids”, already making a mental note to pick up tank-tops and some poppers. Apollo interviews approval of the trip, which will allow him to demonstrate that “it could be a one-man show… if I had breasts, it’d be a one-man show.” I’d TiVo that show. And Apollo querido, you can buy a whole lotta formula with what she’ll have to pay in child-support. Apollo heads out for his “corporate office job” (at Felony Shmelony, Inc.) and Phae dials up her mom Pastor Regina and orders her to help out with Ayden Adonis. Just don’t fall asleep next to him.

“God? Babies go straight to heaven, right? No matter how fussy they was? Just checkin.”

Tour bus. “How much longer?!” Kim barks at Driver Dan somewhere in Mickeymousetown. Just 3 minutes, Your Hogness. Kandi interviews relief that she gets to stay in a hotel tonight “and I can have a little woo-sa moment for myself.” Don Juan and Sweetie exchange bitchy glances with each other as Kim announces she’s texting NeNe before they meet up to point out that Kim might have been “31″ when she put out “Tardy for the Party”, but NeNe’s 42 “and an intern at 11 Alive.” Meow! They arrive at the hotel and DJ says they can rest and shower, but need to leave for the venue “promptly at 8:25.”

As rollicking ex-stripper music burbles in the BG, Kim reclines on a sofa chatting up reindeeah-bootied NFL sperm donor Kroy Biermann on the phone. There’s a knock at the door, prompting more orders from Kim: “SWEETIE! Answer the door!” God forbid Kim gets up off her ass to let Celebrity Wig Designer Derek in to fluff her muff. Kim interviews that she and Kroy “recently started dating and I’m really fallin for him!” It’s great when that happens with whomever impregnated one, ain’t it, Gasmii? Perhaps heeding my earlier comment about dykes on vacation, Derek has changed into a t-shirt reading “I’m Just A Boy In Pumps”. Who gets pumped by boys. “How are we now, considering what happened earlier today?” Derek asks, sounding more like a lesbian therapist than ever. We’re fine, Kim snaps, then proves herself a liar by dredging up the whole stupid Barefoot White People slur.

“I cannot lie, mon! Cleo’s cards predictin very, very bad t’ings for ya…”

We could rehash Derek trying to school Kim about stereotypes (and he’s not wrong) but you know you want to cut right to Kim shuffling to the door in one Gucci bondage spike (I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I don’t just love those, I OWN THOSE) and one pink house-slipper to let in frenemy Neens with a chummy “We have the same shoes on, you *sshole!” The Guccis, not the pink slippers. NeNe says they’re “the most comfortable” she’s ever worn. NeNe is a masochist. Obviously, right, since she’s planning to experience Kim in concert two nights in a row. Kim corkscrews a bottle of Mons Veneris Blanc and NeNe comments on how strong Kim is– has she been lifting weights? Just “my man’s tight ass, bitch!” Scintillating! Kim changes out of her khaki sunsuit into a sparkly black cocktail dress, then wonders if she has the underwear on backwards. It’s easy to tell… is there a string flossing your cooch? If not, you ai’ight.

“Lawd have mercy– Kim think she is a real pop star!” NeNe clucks to us. “OK. Rilly, Kim?” Oh, most troofully. Kim claims to be having fun on the tour, despite the cramped, non-smoking bus. But now she feels too bloated for Black Sparkles and swaps it out for a drapier creation. And she needs a cigarette. NeNe declares herself “allergic” to cancer, so take it someplace else, honey. NeNe suggests Kim hoochie it up with some titty-shaking onstage because that audience ain’t there to hear a real vocalist. “Kim needs whatever last help I can give her,” NeNe sighs, as Kandi looks on, revealing via interview that “this is my tour, my tour-bus, my shows, my fans– why is it startin to feel like The Kim & NeNe Show?” You mean the series you signed on for last season? Sorry, sistah, you’re too together and talented for this mess, but you’re headlining it. What’s that, Tim Gunn? Oh, yeah… Make it work!

Rain. The venue is a nightclub in a top strip mall sandwiched between a tanning salon and a sub shop. And since Orlando is home to many Walt Disney World employees, who prefer to be called “cast members”, maybe a bunch of off-the-clock Tiggers and Tarzans will show up and cause a gay riot. Kim interviews that she’s “gonna kill it”, and begins her deadly auditory assault with some woefully off-key “Whoawhoawhoa”-ing, to NeNe’s visible cringing. NeNe thinks singing along to a vocal track “is kinda like talent shows are at my son’s school– I mean I thought ‘singin live’ was singing live.” Oh just keep boozing till Kim starts to sound bearable. Luckily, Kandi’s all woman and once more acquits herself nicely, or as it NeNe tells us: “Kandi is a real vocalist” and Kandi & Kim aren’t “even in the same arena. Come on, be for rill. We all know who they all came to see…” And according to NeNe it ain’t Wiggy.

Mock to the hand.

Die-hard viewers may experience a disquieting deja vu back on the bus, when drunken NeNe can’t stop herself imitating Kim’s tuneless performance. “It was good though,” NeNe chirps as Kim does a slow burn that has nothing to do with a backwards thong. Kandi senses trouble and interviews that this is where she really wanted her OWN touring vehicle. The next morning, the group leaves the hotel and boards the bus upon which NeNe will be hitching a ride to Miami. Kandi calls mom Joyce to let her know that precocious grandpoppet Riley will be visiting with HER deadbeat dad this afternoon, and she begs Joyce to “be nice.” Riley comes on the line and Kandi tells her to take advantage of her trip to the mall with Dad and buy lots of cute clothes. “All my clothes are cute,” Riley sasses via Blackberry, then adds a poignant “Because they were bought by a fantastic and cute mom!” Aw! What a 7-year-old charmer. Especially compared to certain tubby tweens and purity-pushing teen weenie-teases.

NeNe sashays onto the bus with her shit-stirring spoon unsheathed and tattles that Kim’s been complaining about how Kandi and Kompany have been “stressing her out!” This segues into a spirited communal bashing of Sweetie’s snippy pie-hole and Kim’s incessant smoking stops until the future ex-Mrs Biermann toddles in with enough Louis Vuitton luggage for a cruise to Australia via the Galapagos Islands, home to many of Phaedra’s amphibian ancestors. Kim’s peeved about “her f*cking bags and no bellman came for 30 minutes”. The bus leaves en route to Miami, where they’ll be staying at Kim’s “friend” Thomas‘s “estate”. Strap yourself in for a very special historic hybrid episode in which devilish, dashing Dexter chooses his next victim. Hint– she’s on this bus and not black!

Kim makes arrangements via phone in front of everyone, asking for rooms for “my assistant and Kandi’s tour manager.” NeNe, wearing her Seth Brindle shades, goes ballistic. Oh, uh-uh. Haaaaaayellz no! Sweetie and Don Juan are NOT crashing this Housewives-only retreat. “It was supposed to be a girls’ weekend,” NeNe interjects, not giving a rat’s rodent-booty that the bickering menials are sitting three feet away. “Cynthia’s goin through a really hard time– we’re supposed to be havin a bachelorette-slash-just-girls weekend to help her through her hard time… It’s really weird having Don and Sweetie there when it’s supposed to be just us!” Um, first: Rude! Second, I’m 95% convinced Sweetie is a girl and 94% that DJ has shall we say a very prominent feminine side. And third, if this place is a fuckin’ estate, there’s probably servants’ quarters where the help could gratefully chill out on their own. I’ve spent way too many evenings at Miami estates, and if this is the real deal, those guesthouse-slash-maid’s rooms are nicer than most four-star hotels. But we’ve needed some excruciatingly awkward drama on this thing FOR WEEKS, so please, NeNe, continue…

“Oh, uh-huh… And I suppose Brielle doesn’t deserve her ‘Tardy for the Party’ composer royalties, either?!”

Neen angrily informs us that “you’re not to bring your man… your friend… your co-worker. It is JUST US GIRLS.” And no one has mentioned poor Derek J, so maybe they do consider him a Special Guest Lesbian. Kim, morning chardonnay in hand, hisses to NeNe that this isn’t just a gals’ getaway– she and Kandi are working and Sweetie and DJ are part of that. “You goin out at night singin a song, OK? Whatchoo mean? Dat’s whatchoo doin at night!” NeNe screeches, going from zero to ghetto in all of 5 seconds. “What else are you doin?!”

Kim bites back, disgustedly demanding if NeNe really thinks that’s all there is to it. “What Kandi does, that’s work,” NeNe nastily needles. “What you do, that’s not work.” She’s kinda right, but come on now. “You betta be glad Kandi helped you wit’ dat song, cuz if she ain’t helped yo’ ass, you wouldn’t even have a BEAT goin!” Ahh, old resentment– flowing fresh as a mountain stream. “You sound ridiculous,” NeNe adds. The look of nauseated horror on Kim’s face is a-MAY-zing.

Kandi, our Greek khorus, interviews that she told Kim this would happen, “but I’m not jumpin in the middle of THIS one.” Kim tells NeNe to shut up. “YOU shut up!” NeNe screams. “You betta watch yo’ tone and how you speak to people! Especially when you talkin to a sistah!” You have to admit, Gasmii, it’s not often you get to hear an entertainment reporter engage in catfighting and race-baiting. Otherwise, I’d watch a lot more Access Hollywood. “You think you can talk to people like that?! Your slave is behind you!” NeNe snarls. C’mon Sweetie, step up and try your luck. You might get a nice Naomi Campbell diamond cell-phone settlement. I think Naomi still owes me a couple hundred bucks for calling me and I quote a “fuckin li’l tart” backstage at a fashion show. Who you callin’ “little”, bitch?! I’m five foot nine and a half!

The Editors give us a nice mortified beat as Kandi pretends to read a magazine and Don Juan and Sweetie sit there imploding. Then Kim says how dare you call my assistant a slave?!! NeNe says why not, Kim does, and worse. Finally Sweetie says she’s nobody’s slave… but nobody cares. “The way Kim is treating Sweetie is very unacceptable to me,” Coretta Scott Leakes prissily interviews. “Not only are you disrespecting Sweetie, you are disrespecting ME! And she’s a FOOL for…letting you talk to her like that. Somebody need to step in.” Oh, you already stepped in something, sugah. “Put a chain aroun’ her neck and PULL her,” NeNe snips respectfully, when Kim yells that she pays Sweets plenty to treat S like retarded chattel.

“You’ll always be #1 in my book!”

Kim interviews that NeNe can’t stand being on the tour because “it’s not all about her… Clearly, she’s jealous of my success.” Score one for Wiggy. But they’re not done. Kim blasts NeNe for being super-competitive, which she ridonkly denies. Kim says NeNe was “jealous of ‘Tardy for the Party’” and NeNe calls her a delusional Gaga wanna-be. When was the last time NeNe performed? Kim has music lessons and choreographers; NeNe’s “an intern at 11 Alive.” Uh-oh… “I would much rather be tryin to make a living for mah OWN self,” NeNe declares via interview, “than be a MISTRESS sleepin wit’ somebody else’s HUZZ-bin.” Unless it’s Cynthia’s, and that doesn’t count because they’re practically divorced already. “Lemme tell you somethin,” NeNe continues. “Dat’s MAH show!” Kim tells us NeNe merely does “an entertainment segment at a local news station. You do not have your own show.” Right again.

And while they’re on the topic, why does NeNe have to talk about Kim on N’s “own show”? NeNe feigns ignorance of that particular Jermaine Dupri conversational point, then deflects by claiming that “interviewing” is “my job”. Then NeNe tells Kim if NeNe wanted to sing a song, she could and would. Kim is “an immature dumb blonde.” Kim: You’re a dumb bitch. (See what she did there?) NeNe: And you need to grow da f*ck up! Kim ain’t talkin to Sweetie now, bitch!

Miami. Sheree, Cyn & Phaedra perkily enjoy their chauffered SUV ride, chatting about how nice this estate’s supposed to be and how much fun they’re all going to have. Cynthia interviews that “things are really bad” with Gramps, and, although “confused”, she’s moving ahead with the wedding and looking forward to some soul-nourishing, wise, sisterly support. Phae needs rest and “good sleep” without all that goddamn baby-crying. Sheree remembers that she once had kids and points out that this is Phae’s first time away from the baby. These two have the maternal instincts of a piranha. BTW, last summer’s delish Piranha remake is now available on 3-D and 2-D Blu Ray and yes, you get to see fellow Howard Stern fan Jerry O’Connell‘s enormous penis. Bitten off. By fish.

Sorry… Which one’s Khloe again?

Where were we? Oh, yes. Phaedra doesn’t get much me-time anymore so she plans to make the most of this weekend. We know Southern Belles simplah LUUUUV cute paired names for stuff, like Sip-N-See (Ayden Adonis’s first wine-tasting party) and Shoot-N-Poot (AA’s first photo session, in which he shit on his mother). So now Phae’s joking about the “Pump-N-Dump” she might engage in with whatever crazy-hung trashy-hot male stripper Miss Andy Shtupped-N-Booked for the next episode. How quickly we jokingly tire of our incredibly beautiful trophy husbands. “This is gonna be a peaceful weekend,” Sheree adds, in case you’re not getting the ironic narrative foreshadowing here.

Tour bus. Back to the rolling nuthouse. “What are you gonna do, strangle me again?” Kim taunts. Yes, please, and this time it better be on-camera! Kandi finally gets between them as DJ physically restrains her unmanageably angry ex future BFF. “As soon as she got up off that seat, I knew that our friendship was done,” Kim somberly reflects via interview. “Never again.” But you two are like Talentless AbFab! You’re the Laverne & Shirley of toxic TV! You’re Miss Andy’s own Oprah & Gayle, except one of you is black! Comfort me, Apollo. After this, Kim needs–surprise!– a cigarette, but Driver Dan can’t stop: this is the Everglades and “there’s alligators” lurking by the side of the road. Now that would be a season finale.

Kim, however, is more afraid of NeNe. “I don’t feel safe around her,” remarks Wiggy. But NeNe’s a Christian… just listen to her prayer, spoken aloud in earshot of the entire bus: “Please forgive me Lawd for havin to be on this bus, bein around people who are pure trash– Lawd, please try to proteck me and keep me away from dis TRASH.” Kim says she doesn’t know how she’ll get through this weekend– NeNe’s “crazy as f*ck”. Amen!

Next week: NeNe & Kim bicker. Flawrence crashes the retreat and impersonates NeNe & Kim. Sheree thinks someone’s an ungrateful bitch.