Testimonials

So between Sheree's party drama, NeNe and Sheree's bad blood and all Kimmie's fake hair, I completely forgot about DeShawn and her McCastle! When we next catch up with DeShawn, she's doing her best to make the bed. It's not going well. Okay, seriously honey, who made the bed when you were out hoochie mama-ing it up trying to land the team captain of the Cleveland Cavaliers? Come on. DeShawn will be interviewing candidates for estate manager, and first up is Lindy. Lindy has the personality of a wet mop and some teeny, tiny little glasses perched on top of her Aqua Netted 'do.

The first McCastle issue that Lindy and DeShawn tackle is the procedure for buying potatoes. Very important stuff. Glad they're getting this cleared up expeditiously. A poorly thought out potato procedure could ruin the estate, you know. Next on the agenda is an impending visit from DeShawn's parents. They have requested Baileys and vodka for their room. My kind of people, like 'em already. Lindy is unsure if she is permitted to stock this devil's drink in the Snow house, so Mr. Snow is consulted. "This ain't the nightclub, it's a house," DeShawn's husband exclaims, completely confused.

"May they have food choices?" Warden Lindy presses on. "No! They eat what we cook!" Mr. Snow replies exasperatedly. What is it with these estate wardens and their damn insistence on menu choices? DeShawn sits there and giggles her head off. It's all pretty adorable to me, but Warden Lindy is not amused.

Well, enough of the fancy folk, let's get back to Sheree and the soiree of the century. She's at the salon getting her weave touched up. Still panicked that no one will show, she is now inviting her hairstylist to the party. He wants to know if he can bring a plus one. Then it morphs into plus two. Sheree, fielding phone calls from various Atlanta hos who want some free champers and Louis Vuitton purse cake, agrees to allow the hairstylist and his peon friends to infiltrate the talk of the town party.

Yes, you can bring the lady who hands out samples at Costco but that's it!

Sheree continues on and on about the guest list, and how Tiffany has completely lost control of it. So when the party totally sucks, we'll know who to blame. Sheree informs us that she's thirty-eight, and that she looks good. I disagree. Mean really ages you. She talks about how well her friends / castmates that Bravo introduced her to dress...all except NeNe. Sheree would not put fashion and NeNe in the same sentence. I feel a bitchfight going down. Please let it come to blows at the talk of the town party. Please.

Over at NeNe's, she's getting ready to show up her good pal who she's trying to bury the hatchet with, Sheree, at the party. She instructs her make-up artist to go for smoky eyes to go with her new dress. The make-up artist whips out the big guns - literally, out comes the airbrush gun. We are not messing around here. NeNe shrieks with love for her make-up job, and does a little honey-I-done-left-her-chile snap.

Then we check in with Kimmie, who's also getting ready for the party. Kim's being assisted by a super whiney gay dude who makes house calls. He's Kim's personal stylist, and sometimes he even makes clothes for her! Kim tells us that everyone's always talking about what she's wearing, even to the grocery store. Loves it, nothing says victory louder than every bitch in Atlanta talking about what's barely covering your Barbie-weaved ass.

The whiney stylist hooks her up with a mini-dress that's way to big for her and makes her huge boobs looks even bigger. Whiney's clearly no dummy, cause when you're sewing for a big girl, always better to err on the side of XXL, and then tell her how tiny she is and what hard work it will be to take the whole thing in to accommodate her trim figure. "It's gonna be a showstopper!" Kim declares.

...when it falls off.

We cut to commercial, and at this point, the family caucuses on what we think so far. The conversation goes something like this:

ChickBomb: What do you think?
Uncle Noir: I don't think I can watch too much of this.
Aunt Noir: It's very fast.
Uncle Noir: It is very fast.
Aunt Noir: Is it the TV, do you think?
ChickDad: (Snores)

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Posted in Real Housewives of Atlanta by ChickBomb at 12:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (17)
Last Comment: BlahBlah on Dec 25, 2008 02:51 AM.