“We’ve Never Met a Real Grownup” 🍹 Pump Rules Season 4 Episode 4 Recap

Look out world, it’s Wonder Woman! 

Yes, following in the footsteps of her former BFF Lady Hitler, K2 has got a blog, called “Pucker & Pout”, on which she posts about beauty, fashion, hair, etc. I popped over for a visit and I’m not entirely sure how long this operation has been going, but she’s surely gotten a bump today. But unlike Kristen Taekman’s reasonably busy little operation, there’s not much to see, really, unless you want to read advice on why you should stop washing your hair. (No thanks.)

K2 has asked her new BFF ShayNaché to come over to model hair accessories. T2 is also on hand to provide modeling tips he picked up at the Blue Steel School of Modeling and Animal Husbandry, as well as dispense some comic levity because, as we know, ShayNaché is suffering. Suffering emotionally because she has uncovered Mr. Shay’s secret battle with the pills. T2 cannot believe easygoing, teddy bear Mr. Shay has such a dark secret; ShayNaché begins the waterworks and coaches herself to breathe through her nose so as not to mess up the makeup.

A full, professional photography and lighting crew arrives with a backdrop and everything to shoot the hair photos, and they get perfectly solid, humorless shots. If this extensive of an operation is what’s required for all these beauty bloggers to get their money shots then I no longer feel inadequate over the handful of crappy photos I post here.

Across the ghastly, apocalyptic landscape that is Los Angeles, Jax is at SUR trying to work over BlahBlah. He’s heard that she’s from Utah, so he wants to know (a) is she a Mormon, and (b) is it true that the Mormon gals are into anal? No, BlahBlah is not a Mormon, but she can confirm the anal rumor and also advise Jax that the Mormon gals give killer blowjobs. Before Jax can LAX→SLC, Lady Pump pops up and scoots him away, chastising him not to “poo in his own backyard”. Jax straightens up and tells Lady Pump that if she doesn’t want him chasing BlahBlah’s skirt, maybe she could reconsider hiring his girlfriend of fifteen minutes, BritNee, so she can move to LA and keep him under control. Lady Pump remains nonplussed; until this fledgling relationship passes the “90 Day Jax Trial” she has no desire to ruin that underpants-as-daywearing naive little thing’s life by encouraging cross-country relocation; after all, Jaxy here has been through three noses this year alone!

With that, it’s time for Boys’ Night Out, wherein the Ts, Jax, and Pirate Peetah are going out with Horshack, who I initially took for a don’t-mess businesswoman in his necklace and blazer. All he needs is a bow-tied blouse and he could pass for Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. Inebriation ensues. Horshack, who is over the moon to have been invited out to play, goes further and further down the rabbit hole, confessing that his relationship with K1 is at best okay and at worst cataclysmic; that they have broken up more than 20 times; and that they are going to therapy in the morning. Sounds like a relationship worth investing in. Speaking of investing, the Ts want the Pumps to bring them on to help sell the LVP sangria line. They have big plans. Horshack is now in need of pee-pads.

Sure enough, dawn arrives as it always does, and Horshack has made it home but not past the couch. K1 makes him a delicious breakfast of poached eggs and broccoli, which Horshack declines as I would as well. The tank top twins go to therapy; I am thoroughly distracted by Horshack’s lady arms and Etsy special “fun pocket” top. They bicker and sneer and call each other horrible things. She’s mad that he’s immature and irresponsible (he is 21 and unlike K1, at least has a job), while he’s bitter that once upon a time before he was old enough to drive she boned both T1 and Jax, which seems irrelevant to me. The therapist suggests that if they can’t stop one-upping each other with mental cruelty then maybe this isn’t a healthy relationship. I think this relationship isn’t healthy for me as a viewer and I am breaking up with them first.

The cool couples – the 2s, T&A, and Pirate Peetah – are on a triple dinner date, you guys! Like grownups! Peetah just met his new girlfriend at the season-opening party, and guess what? She has a KID! A real live four-year-old! Peetah is so excited that he gets to play house. T1 wants to play house with Ariana – he would “fucking marry” her (how charming!) but she has never wanted to play house much less get fucking married, not since she was five.

Speaking of marriage, you know who isn’t here but the only (technically) married couple the Nachés, because Mr. Shay is having this tragic meltdown that has now become public humiliation to top it all off. Everyone, even ShayNaché’s friends, acknowledge that she is bossy and domineering, and tries to avoid dealing with real issues in favor of pitching hissy conniptions about things like who stole her bar customer. One of the Ts points out that Mr. Shay has got no money and he’s got no car, so soon he might got no woman and there he are. Meep.

Meep is also the sound made by swans when they pee out their butts.

Yes, the T’s have conferred over fashion choices and arrived on the doorstep of the Palais du Pump, crossing the moat and prepared to present their hifalutin business plan to Lady Pump. Which is: to go to St. Louis, drink LVP sangria in front of “people”, and use subliminal “be cool like us” messaging to get the great unwashed of St. Louis to buy a lot of bottles, with or without brown paper bags. Pandy Pump and Mr. Pandy, who are really in charge of the sangria and have come along to hear this laughable proposal out, manage to keep straight faces. It’s sweet that these two asshats think they can bring out a buyer’s market in greater Missouri, but this operation is already in full swing on at least two other continents. Also: no, despite T1’s sweet pleading, Lady Pump is not going to hire Silent Bob, currently circling the drain of addiction, to come work at any of her establishments, even if he is married to ShayNaché and is a sad sack. To humor them, the Ts are sent home to come up with something more involved – something sort of like a “plan” – and advised to consult Craigslist for odd jobs for Mr. Shay.

And good news: ShayNaché has prevailed upon Mr. Shay to come home! And he’s coming home to this:

It seems there’s a whole additional hideous leather couch offscreen, too. This visually offensive living arrangement far exceeds my wildest fantasies of Studio ShayNaché. And it’s full of cats, too. Also, K2 needs to step it up if she wants to pass as a hair-and-fashion guru.

Yes, ShayNaché asked the cool couples – the 2s and T&A – to be here as well as “buffer”. It seems Mr. Shay is not comfortable being alone with his wife. Hmm. Maybe the sharpened talons have something to do with it.

Sat down and confronted, Mr. Shay reports: (a) he was taking enough pills to experience withdrawal symptoms; (b) that he had multiple dealers; (c) that he took 10 a day on at least one occasion; and (d) he has not pooped in over 24 months. (Vicodin, man! I have never understood the Vicodin addict; I can’t take even one without a double senna and prune chaser.) ShayNaché begins to wail about how miserable she has been for the last week or so, and Mr. Shay shouts that he’s been miserable for two years! TWO YEARS without a satisfying BM, man! Then why did he marry ShayNaché?! she howls. He did it because he’s scared of her. She overtalks him and cuts him off and intimidates him, and next thing you know he’s proposing on the back lawn of the Palais du Pump with cameras rolling and BOOM! getting hitched to a Bridezilla in a crop top before he even sobers up enough to know the sun has set and risen again. What to do, what to do? ShayNaché vows to permit Mr. Shay to cut her off when she’s steamrolling him. He agrees to stay and brought his toothbrush in his tiny backpack. This relationship has legs, man.

Jax brings BritNee to PUMP to try, again, to convince Lady Pump to hire her. This is what she wears:

Lady Pump, unimpressed by BritNee’s stellar career history at Hooters, says no, and declares a no-fraternization policy starting now.

Back at Studio ShayNaché, it’s dinnertime. They are having chopped salads on TV tables, accompanied by Capri Suns. On purpose.

After bickering about Mr. Shay’s need to work through his “stuff” on his own, rather than under the relentlessly pressing thumb of ShayNaché, the wifey dismisses Mr. Shay’s possible alcohol issues as inconvenient to her own partying lifestyle (he’s just gonna have to try to keep it to a mild buzz because she’s not leaving her clique for anyone), and informs him that henceforth, she’s going to supervise his activities by making him do at-home drug drops. REALLY.

And Mr. Shay actually, willingly goes into the bathroom to take off his panties and pee in the cup. For God’s sake, dude.

The next day, ShayNaché reports to Lady Pump that things are looking up. Mr. Shay doesn’t need rehab, he just needs to report to his in-home probation officer with her supply of CVS kits every two days or so! See, all fixed! And for once, Lady Pump is speechless.

Next time: K1 and Horshack put a fork in it, and he tries to put his fork into BlahBlah which incenses both K1 and Jax who invokes the new no-forking rule. Also, ShayNaché is totally sure that Mr. Shay is going to do everything possibly to make her The Happiest Woman Alive™. EVERYTHING. Sigh.



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Happily Never After 🍹 Pump Rules Season 4 Episode 3 Recap

Brand new TiVo Roamio in the house, and I installed it all my damn self! Golf claps for Ms. IT! Not only do we have technical difficulties behind us, but the house upending has come to a close and we have officially resumed Awesome at the Rancho. With that, I resume recapping three episodes into Pump Rules, which finds Lady Pump alighting at a tacky little junk boutique to shop for new SUR getups with ShayNaché, K2, and Anonymous Server #1. I am in total agreement that the servers need new getups, but these cheesy faux-retro Modcloth numbers are not on point, neither Sexy nor Unique, and I am not believing for one second that Lady Pump actually thinks they are flattering or appropriate for her establishment, nor that she would ever be caught dead in something like this: Nonetheless, we pretend. Lots of gratuitous chones shots, some of Anonymous,

some of ShayNaché, who, for reasons known only unto herself, left the house in her negligee this morning. I’m wondering where her trail of cats wandered off to. 


Having decided upon a handful of ghastly unflattering, shrunken flare dresses, Lady Pump rounds up on K2 and ShayNaché about being mean to the new girl, BlahBlah. ShayNaché protests that they were only mean to BlahBlah because she said she needed time off, like, ten seconds after starting so she could go on a modeling trip, but (a) she had not earned vacation time yet, and (b) she wasn’t actually modeling, she was hooking. Yes, these girls are basically accusing BlahBlah of being a call girl, going with a rich guy on vacation and you know she’s engaging in commerce of some kind. I don’t think BlahBlah is going to take well to that, true or not.

At SUR, it’s more “hate the new kid” because the new kid, Eric, who came from Lisa’s baby, PUMP, is teaching the haggard old SURtenders how to make some of his special concoctions, like the Pumping Glory and JLaw’s favorite, the Pumptini. T1 feels inadequate now. I think he should feel inadequate over his Justice for Boys wardrobe. Jax is fighting back. He is NOT going to work with the new guy, even if Mr. Lisa bares his fangs and threatens to fire him. Like Jax cares. New Guy Eric kisses ass and demonstrates the Pumptini while Jax trash talks him. Jax, mind you, is, like, 40. I blush.

It’s time for work at SUR. Lady Pump finds BlahBlah upon entry (because, you know, BlahBlah is a hostess which means she works – duh! – at the front) and quizzes her about her “modeling gig”. BlahBlah breaks down and admits she was supposed to go to Europe to get some pictures taken… and maybe be “arm candy”. But in the end it’s all okay because Lady Pump, she didn’t go! No, she went home to her mama to have a breakdown because people were being mean to her. Now, I didn’t see exactly what happened to BlahBlah, but methinks she’s a bit full of cacapoopoo. Nonetheless, stories like this make Lady Pump root for the picked-upon, so she’s #teamBlahBlah.


yeah, not a model


Speaking of the mean girls, ShayNaché is just so emotional, baby, that she can’t even enter a drink order and needs to go hide out in the Ladies’. K2, her current BFF, finds her in there and wants to know what’s wrong. It seems Mr. ShayNaché is  depressed, drunk all the time, and ran away from the marital home to hide out at his parents’ despite the fact that he hates them. That’s serious shit, man. ShayNaché is so upset! She wants Mr. ShayNaché home every minute of every day to wait for her with the cats.

A new day dawns, and Lady Pump is hauling her swan into PUMP. What? Yes: that woman is manhandling an actual live swan. I wasn’t sure at first, but it moved. I thought those swans were a bit vicious, no? Well, this swan, blessed with the name of Honky, might be slightly medicated at the moment. It seems Honky is suffering from depression and frustrated rivalry with the other swan, a metaphor for all that the servers experience back at SUR if there ever was one. Lady Pump hands Honky off to Mr. Lisa to take home and launches into Server Retraining with Richardson or whatever this charismatic gentleman’s name is.

Richardson is here to teach these tired old broads from SUR a thing or two about Customer Conversation Awareness, Expressive Personality, and Upselling with Elevated Language. BlahBlah takes notes. K2 rolls her eyes; she was born a professional! Richardson wants to know if she has any news and she snaps back that she’s pregnant, not. Well, if T2 doesn’t get his shit together soon, Richardson is next in line. You know what they say about once you go black…

Speaking of T2, he’s at another tacky, tired old boutique called Rubber Ducky preparing for soft porn a modeling gig. He asks how they define “cover try” like he really thinks he’s there for porn. T2 may have an “inconsistent” modeling career, but he’s been working like hotcakes lately trying to bring home the cash to buy K2 the ring she’s so longing for. One of the sketchy ‘models’ advises him to make sure he gives K2 enough foreshadowing that she knows to get her hair and makeup right. Seeing as she’s going to get this ring on TV I am pretty sure she’ll be done up regardless, but it’s a nice helpful hint from Heloise.

K1 and Horshack have a drink on her rooftop pool deck and dip their toes in the hot tub. They love each other but don’t trust each other because they are both total cheating whores. He knocked boots with someone named Jenna; she had lunch with Jax. I do not care.

see it? see the ox ring?

Back at SUR, Lady Pump just happens to stumble upon ShayNaché and K2 talking about how awful BlahBlah is and calls them out. ShayNaché does not have time for BlahBlah’s pain right now; she has real, serious issues, so serious that she might cry and lose an eyelash. Whatever pain BlahBlah is experiencing at her hand it is nothing compared to what ShayNaché is going through with Mr. ShayNaché having left the reservation. Ohmiword; why, WHY does K2 have an ox ring in her nose?

Over at T1 and Ariana’s Place, Anonymous Black Girl is coming by to take a couch away. Not the biohazard couch K2 and Jax knocked boots upon; no, that one remains in T1 n’ A’s living room, bodily fluids intact. ABG is coming for the extra brown couch – the clean one – which T1 n’ A are replacing with a [what’s that called] sectional! A sectional! How suburban and conventional! It seems everything gets passed from server to server at SUR: couches, cars, cast-off fuckmates, The Itch… T2 comes over to help, and the Ts have a moment on the brown couch out on the curb taking about T2’s plans to acquire a ring. T1 can’t wait to help pick it out. Ernie and Bert do everything together!

At SUR, Jax is eating in the smelly alley, as is his wont, when BlahBlah rolls up in her End Of Grease Sandra ensemble.

What’s it to ya, stud? What indeed to make of that peculiar lump on Jax’s forehead?

Have I missed an explanation for this, or is it wandering filler? Anyway, BlahBlah has decided she needs to make friends with the men because the bitches are mean. Oh, and Jax and this new girlfriend of his aren’t actually together, so, you know, there’s room.

ShayNaché is in her boudoir with the sparkly buttons on the cream satin headboard, the IKEA MDF furniture, and the colossal self-portraits of My Biggest Best Day Ever.  

Ariana comes over to find out what’s eating Gilbert Grape and ShayNaché tells her that Mr. ShayNaché is “self-medicating”. In other words, he’s hammered all the time, and now he ran away to the senior Nachés, leaving ShayNaché all worried that the honeymoon, and possibly the marriage, is over. Also, she should not have bothered to put eyelashes on today because here they come melting off!

Back at SUR, Horshack offers Lady Pump condolences on Honky’s mental state, and she offers the suggestion that he’d be better off with “a boil on his ass” than K1 in his pants. The End.

Time for ring shopping, you guys! The Ts bring ShayNaché along and she brings her notes in her iPhone of exactly what her BFF K2 wants, and wouldn’t you know it but the notes actually say K2 wants a brown diamond?! It seems that during T2’s ill-fated, one-off, panic-attack-inducing turn tending bar at PUMP, he met a jeweler named Kyle Chan who’s very excited to create a magical engagement ring for the 2s. T2 is hoping to spend $4-$5K, but damn if that brown, flat chip isn’t going to set him back $7K. He’s gonna have to do more Modelo commercials, or start hookin’! T2 commits.

ShayNaché, the ole’ married lady, wants more diamonds on her ring now that she’s been married, like, a while, even though Elvis has left the building. T1 wonders how that’s gonna work out, and whether ShayNaché is provoking Mr. ShayNaché’s substance abuse.

Horshack hits on BlahBlah before ShayNaché stops Lady Pump for tea and sympathy, confessing that Mr. ShayNaché started hitting the bottle three months into their marriage. Not only that, he’s taking pills, too; Vicodin, 5 times per day. To think Lady Pump only thought he was lethargic and unmotivated! That’s enough to tranquilize a rhinoceros! ShayNaché feels like he has a secret life, and Lady Pump agrees. HMMM.

Next time: Horshack and K1 go to therapy, and I change the channel. Horshack hits on BlahBlah some more, and I use the restroom. Oh, and the prodigal Mr. ShayNaché comes home, bringing reinforcements to tell ShayNaché how miserable he’s been for two whole years! Good times ahead, kids! (Oh, how I have missed this…)


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Pressure Cooker Chicken & White Bean Chili 🍴 Let’s Eat

Although it’s currently 82 out, we’ve had a few cool days and are regularly into cool nights, which means fall has fallen even here in the Arizona desert. This is my favorite season. I got my first taste of fall when Mr. Little Mama and I were home in the Midwest for about 17 minutes early last month. It was Winnie The Pooh weather all weekend long, and the last night we were in town my sister had us for dinner for chili and cornbread. She made two kinds, red and this delicious white chicken chili, which I had to have the recipe for. I’ve made a number of white chicken chilis over the years, but this one just has a little extra something-something.

Last week we had a chili cookoff at a Halloween event at school, which happened to fall in a window of time where I was so frazzled that I forgot an entire shopping cart of paid-for purchases at Target. Just paid, walked out the door, and left my stuff sitting there. But I had committed to making a pot of chili, and as always my trusty pressure cooker came to my rescue! And at least that one thing went right that day. Here’s the recipe, originally from Epicurious, adapted for pressure cooker convenience (and with a few other shortcuts).


Pressure Cooker Chicken and White Bean Chili

  • 1 lb. dried small white beans (mine were labeled “small white beans”, but you can use whatever strikes your fancy)
  • 4 frozen chicken breasts
  • 1/4 to 1/3 of one jar of 505 Roasted Hatch Green Chiles from Costco (or: 8 or so chiles from the Hatch canned variety, chopped. Or: buy a bag from the chile roaster man in your hardware store parking lot if you are lucky enough to have such a gentleman. Or: roast them yourself like the recipe calls for.)
  • 1/4 c. butter
  • 2 lg. yellow onions, chopped
  • 1/3 c. flour
  • 4 c. (one box) chicken broth
  • 3 c. half-and-half
  • 1 T. chili powder (get a fresh container, please, or better yet pick up a package from your grocery Mexican section)
  • 1 T. hot sauce
  • 1 T. cumin
  • 2 t. salt
  • 1/2 t. pepper
  • 1 1/2 c. grated Monterey jack cheese
  • 1 c. sour cream
  • 1/4 c. chopped cilantro

First, place your chicken breasts in enough water to cover (at least 2 cups) in the pressure cooker, and cook on HIGH pressure for 15 minutes. Release pressure, remove chicken, shred with two forks, and set aside, covered.

Next, place your beans and 3 cups of water into the pressure cooker, and cook on HIGH pressure for 25 minutes until your beans are fully cooked through. Release pressure, remove beans, and set aside.

With the cooker set to SEAR, melt butter and saute onions until translucent. Add flour and cook briefly, stirring, to cook off the floury taste but not brown, then add chicken broth and half-and-half. Cook, stirring occasionally, until thickened, then add all the seasonings (chili powder through pepper), the chicken, the chopped chiles, and the beans. Set cooker to WARM and let simmer for at least 20 minutes until the flavors are cooked through. (At this point I actually switched to the slow cooker setting and let the damn thing go on low for the next 24 hours.) Before serving, stir in cheese and sour cream until fully melted and blended, and then add cilantro. Muy delicioso!


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Well Thank God That’s Over 🍊 RHOC Season 10 Wrap-Up

Lots of things have been going on here at home that have taken my attention and energy off all things other than the critical and necessary, and blogging and silly reality TV in general. (Everything is fine, just running at warp speed with some extra complications in the mix.) But I have to confess I was surprised to realize yesterday that I had not recapped this ridiculous show since September 6! I basically abandoned ship and headed for the lifeboat about the same time that The Assmaking of Vic Gunvalson headed into overdrive, also known as When RHOC Went Tits Up.


The only episode I’ve watched since early September was last night’s third installment of the reunion, and man, it was just tragic. I am no fan of Vicki, but watching anyone hit rock bottom like she has is difficult. It’s entirely possible to be some big fancy Successful Businesswoman of the world (just ask her) and nonetheless have serious emotional hangups that lead to perfectly catastrophic relationship choices. On the bright side, she seems to have raised two perfectly level-headed, functional children who don’t share her vulnerabilities, so that’s one to grow on. But that lady, she was just sitting there on that couch emotionally (and nearly literally) naked and afraid, and she got there thanks to a pointy-nosed dude who was missing several teeth when she snapped him up. For fuck’s sake!

In my opinion, this whole franchise needs to be not just recast but reconceived, or abandoned altogether. It’s not fun at all. There’s nothing genuine about it. There’s not a single solitary Housewife for me to root for, appreciate, or enjoy in any way. I don’t care what happens to any of them, good or bad. I don’t even like any of their husbands, who in other cases (read: the men of RHOBH) often provide comic relief. These bitches are just bitches and the show is a whole suitcase full of bitchery, which I don’t have time for in real life, much less as “entertainment” in my off hours. I’m over it. TITS UP, I tell you.

November is a month for gratitude, and I for one am grateful that Tree Guidice’s detour “away” is giving us all a Housewives break in the altogether for the first time in years and years and years. After this shitshow of a season I think we all need a little Housewife Time Out. Pump Rules starts tonight, I think, so I’ll be back with that sometime later in the week. ‘Til then, kittycats…


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“I Think I’ve Coagulated” 🍊 RHOC Season 10 Episode 14 Recap

I am finding it so hard to start the week on a Tuesday. Almost as hard, in fact, as EHM is finding it to tolerate touching the onion she is hacking away at. Harder than chopping an onion one-handed is rice-making for our EHM, until Grumpy Cat points out that there are detailed instructions laid out on the back of the box. She’s making teriyaki salmon. I really don’t think Grumpy Cat should eat that.


Drinking their lunches at a chic bistro are Shannon and H. Dubrow, who is wearing too much makeup as usual and dared to wear white now that she thinks she’s stopped hemorrhaging.


It’s the day after the Sex Party, supposedly, and these two are here to recap the few-and-far-between highs and abundant lows of last week’s social event. And of course the highlight was the smack down between OG Vic and EHM. Interestingly, these two seem to be Team Meghan! They agree that Donn2’s treatment plan is “subpar”, and that Vic not only started the fight but went way too far, calling EHM “evil” and delightedly prognosticating the eventual Edmonds divorce. They really do not understand why Vic is this angry and intense about defending Donn2’s Snuffleupacancer treatment choices. And isn’t it sweet how these two can bond over gossip after their outsize hostilities of last season?

After the Sex Party, OG Vic has somehow teleported to Oklahoma City despite the forecasted tornado warning.


Now I’ve never lived in OKC but I have lived places where there are occasional tornado conditions, and I don’t recall a tornado warning ever being issued as a forecast, let alone for a six-hour window. But The Culbersons pull up the weather app and damn, there it is! They elect to go out for dinner downtown, where they expect the high-rises to blunt the spinning winds rather than cause mayhem and destruction when they splinter into toothpicks, rather than wait it out in their basement tornado box with a shrieking woo-hooer for the next six hours.


Back in the OC, Tammy has gone to the Pasture to see about the baptimizification. She’s found a nice, small church willing to take her which is a good think, because Tammy and Saddleback are not going to mix. (A mom I used to know here moved to the OC, joined Saddleback, and unfriended me on Facebook. I think she even unfriended me on Pinterest.  I am pretty sure that if I am distasteful Saddleback material then Tammy definitely is not going to cut it.) Anyway, Tammy wants to know if she can still be naughty after she gets baptimitized, and how much water do they need for this baptimizification anyway?


The good Pasture says to keep bringing it, and whatever viable hydration system she can come up with will do.

In OKC, apparently it’s Briana’s birthday, so Vic has dragged them all to a high-end steakhouse which ought to make for a pleasant dining experience with two toddlers in tow. Briana and Ryan have no friends, so they only hang with each other. Vic wants them to come back to the OC, but they’ve got another two years ahead of them in OKC and also, Donn2 is still lingering around. Briana hasn’t seen or spoken to him in two years as it is, and hopes by the next administration’s mid-term elections he’ll be gone. Or maybe dead, if this Snuffleupacancer thing is the real deal.

Speaking of cancer, EHM has gone to the doctor to have a lump in her armpit checked out. She does not have cancer, but all her female relatives have had breast cancer like Angelina Jolie and EHM Knows A Lot About Cancer, you guys! She’s decided to go forth and get tested for the burka gene and does not understand why her mother won’t do it. Well, her mother already had the double mastectomy, so why find out whether or not she gambled wrong? Grumpy Cat reminds her to mind her own business.


The Dubrows head off to some home shopping network to have a meeting about their upcoming skincare line launch, which they hope will be more successful with the alleged 88 million home shoppers than Dr. Terry’s Anal Leakage Snake Oil, especially as they have invested more than a million dollars of their own money in it. This is boring.

At the Beadors, the girls are making a romantic dinner for their parents which involves permanently affixing a cake to an 8″ square Pyrex, mashing potatoes on a cutting board, and presenting Mom and Dad with a whole rotisserie chicken on a plate. Yum, yum! They are really hoping to make Shannon and David’s relationship better, with extra salt. It’s cute, if unappetizing. Where did they get their custom bobbleheads?


Three white SUVs roll up to the Culberson’s house at the end of the cul-de-sac so Briana can pick out her birthday present. She is horrified, but Vic is tired of squashing into the middle between the two car seats. She has to have her feet on the hump back there! Unlike the last time Vic “bought” Briana a car, this time she intends to pay more than the down payment. Briana thinks her mother is trying to “help” in places Briana doesn’t really need help, but she accepts the Yukon XL anyway.

The Judges go out to dinner and Tammy confesses that she, too, is helping her adult child financially, in her Ryan’s case by shelling out $8000 to relocate him and his stepfamily to the OC after he ran away last season. Eddie goes slightly ballistic, announces that he has no intention of supporting another man’s family, and demands this be treated as a loan. Tammy agrees to call it a loan even though she has no intention of being repaid. Considering recent events at least she’s being realistic.

Back to the only person we know in Oklahoma where things are about to get interesting for the first time this episode. Vic is leaving, which is fine because Briana is coming to visit with the kids in ten days so we don’t have to have any boohooing and all that. Because Donn2 lives in the Brown House now, Briana suggests maybe she and the kids should go stay at a hotel, which is when Vic breaches the fourth wall, demands the camera people stop filming, and storms into the house. She thinks Briana is trying to make her and Donn2 “look bad”, whereas Briana is just being practical and doesn’t actually believe Donn2 is going to be out of town when she visits, like he’s supposed to be, because as a nurse she knows full well that people with Stage 3 Cancer are not supposed to travel. Why is mom acting all crazy? Is the car meant to silence her? Has Briana been conferring with Heather and Shannon? Stay tuned, lambchops.

Next time: someone’s having a party, and things are about to throw down with Donn2. Meep!


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Nipping Out 🍊 RHOC Season 10 Episode 13 Recap

We pick up where we left off, with that giant sucking sound when Everyone Hates Meghan calls The OG, Vic Gunvalson, a “bitter old lady”. You know she wanted to say “hag”, but chickened out. Voice Of Reason 2015 Lizzie Rovboobs butts in to reason with EHM, pleading that Vic has been asking her to JUST STOP TALKING and that this whole subject – Donn2’s Snuffleupacancer – is just none of her business. Shannon agrees that it is time for EHM to Zip. It., but EHM can’t, because “she cares”. She cares so deeply about someone she’s only met twice, because she feels the weight of the needs of ALL CANCER VICTIMS on her frail little shoulders.


Heather understands why EHM cannot contain herself when it comes to the Snuffleupacancer. She knows that for EHM, who claims to care about ONE person with cancer, it’s unconscionable for someone who could have some ghastly treatment not to want to do it. Listen, bitches; it’s unconscionable for someone to decline viable treatment for a child who cannot make their own decisions. (Maybe there are some who disagree with that, but I think there’s an obligation to pursue the most scientifically-sound course when it comes to kids.) It’s NOT unconscionable for an adult person who has cancer to decide he’d rather do coffee colonics or sit in a quiet corner thinking pleasant thoughts if that’s what he thinks he wants to do. Donn2 does not have an obligation to the cancer patients of the world, nor to EHM.

Vic has had enough and has left the room, boohooing and meowing loudly from the echoing canyon of the construction zone about how much she misses her mama and how she’s not talking to anyone else nor does she want to see EHM Ever. Again. Good luck with that. Heather tries to speak quietly and slowly to EHM about how while it’s understandable she would want someone who has options to want to use them, Vic does not want her help and leave her alone. “Vicki is a bitch,” responds EHM. “She’s mean – she’s not listening to me!” Girl, I’m not listening to you, either! Lizzie points out that EHM isn’t listening to Vic either, seeing as she couldn’t care less about how upset she is. EHM crosses her arms and huffs insolently.

Meanwhile, Heather and Tammy, separately, remark quizzically on how ‘over the top’ Vic’s reaction is. Really? She’s confronted by a perfectly awful person demanding explanations as to why another adult, with whom she may secretly disagree, is choosing one course of care over another, hot on the heels of her mother suddenly dropping dead and under a general cloud of suspicion and distrust? I’ve blown my top at far less.

Vic leaves, and Heather returns to the table to reassemble the shattered dream of this luncheon. It was just the ‘wrong timing’ for EHM to confront Vic about Donn2’s treatment options at this ‘lovely luncheon’. Or: it was a big fat filthy mistake to invite these cheap floozies to a claptrap pile of dirt, nails, and loose boards and try to pretend it’s some upscale ladies-who-lunch extravaganza. Exhibit A: Tammy attempts to salvage the mood by announcing that she and Eddie have made a sex tape to launch their new YouTube channel, and are inviting everyone to come to a sex party to check it out! Sounds kinky boots!

Shannon goes to see Dr. Moon, who tries to align her long-suffering liver with her belly button and her left bunion. He diagnoses her with Resentment and suggests she do angry eye exercises. Oddly, EHM does not show up to yell at Shannon about her choice of holistic treatment for her Resentment, a malady from which EHM herself suffers, deeply.

Vic has dinner with Son Mike. Mike has fled the OC for the safer, Woo-Hooless territory of San Diego. He’s almost 30, he’s still working for Mom, and he’s slightly less sassy if he does continue to call his mama on her shit (which, let’s be honest, someone has to do). Vic talks some more about Mama, and Mike sensibly points out that it’s not like she was orphaned pre-puberty; she’s a menopausal grandmother herself, and Mama lived to be 83 which is a reasonably long life (and departing at that point probably spared her some of the indignities of extreme old age). Regardless, Vic likes this child because he is on good terms with Donn2, unlike Someone Else We Know Who Is The Only Person We Know In Oklahoma.

It’s time for SEX! Are you ready? Let’s do it! Break it down!


Are we really supposed to believe that Tammy and Eddie planned this sextravaganza? I call bullshit. Especially as Tammy reveals her surprise and delight at the various details: the sex swing (this is surprising? Of course there is a sex swing), the kinky photo booth, the dildos here there and everywhere. Tammy wants this to be a great, sexy party, so she has commanded that Thou Shalt Speak Of The Snuffleupacancer.

Shannon has returned from Dr. Moon’s office and she is tired. Tired of lying down, tired of working on her Angry Eye Exercises. Dr. Moon told her she needs to get her Resentment out, so she unloads her disappointment with her 51st birthday on Mr. Shannon. Now it’s Mr. Shannon’s turn to be pained and tired, and damn, is he TARRED. Tired of trying, and failing, to make Shannon happy; he really thought she wanted to go to a sports bar for her birthday! Damn him for being an asshole again! (Well, he is a bit of an asshole with this martyr thing he keeps doing.) Shannon feels she is entitled to Time. Time to HEAL! I agree she is, but only if she’s actually working on moving forward and not on wallowing.

Another couple having some marital tension is – bing! – the Edmonds! They get snippy in the car en route to the sex party. EHM is wearing a studded bra and a purple wig, and Grumpy Cat is wearing: chinos. Tammy thinks EHM looks like “Slutty Heather”; you can easily tell them apart because Grumpy Cat is wearing a generously-cut white blouse whereas Dr. Terry only wears black and slim-fit. Everyone else is in: wigs, except OG Vic, who arrives wearing a sleeveless white lace cocktail dress that EHM snipes is meant to send the message that she’s an angel, when “what she’s actually saying is I’m an asshole” for refusing to get on board the costume party theme, complete with two birds flipped. Classy.

The Judges kick things off by screening their “sex tape”; in case you missed it or really, really want to watch it again, here it is:

Oh, ha ha! It wasn’t REAL, you guys! I guess if we want real Judge sex we’re going to have to watch the soft porn bath again. (No thanks.)

Once that’s over, the caterers wheel out a stretcher with a live, naked woman on it covered in sushi. Yes, a naked lady wearing raw fish. That’s how we’re serving the apps, and that’s SEXY, in case you didn’t get the point.

On another totally not sexy topic, Tammy is planning to go see a “pasture” about getting baptimatized! What? says husband Eddie? Yep! She’s gonna get baptimatized by a pasture – look out for the cow patties! This is the first Eddie has heard of the baptimization plan; Tammy hasn’t told him about it because he called her a “Jesus freak” the last time she mentioned The Lord. Eddie says he said that because he had no idea she was even into religion, but if that’s the case he will support her. He doesn’t think getting baptimatized is weird because Tammy does “fucked up shit” all the time so how can this really stand out? Indeed. Tammy apologizes to the camera for calling Assy Bellino “Jesus Jugs”; it was not nice – to Jesus Christo El Hombre.

Just then, someone notices that H. Dubrow is copiously bleeding from her stomach. H. tries to downplay the hemorrhage, but Tammy and Vic scoot her off to the bathroom where she reveals that she is wearing maxi pads duct taped to her body to absorb the blood because: she did some weird beauty treatment involving leeches where she put them on, let them suck, and then squeezed the blood all over her face. It brightens, tightens, and endows a youthful glow! WHAT?!


For fuck’s sake. EHM comes into the bathroom to change clothes because her nips are popping out, and no one pays attention to her.

Out of the bathroom, Shannon comes up to give OG Vic a birthday hug (where’s Vic’s birthday hug for Shannon?) and EHM lines up for one, too, and also for the apology she thinks is due to her. This is going to end well, predicts Tammy, who knows Vic always has to have the last word. Vic tries to stalk off, but EHM brings in Grumpy Cat, of all people, as reinforcement and tells him the old lady told her she had “evil eyes”.


Grumpy Cat tells OG Vic that he has seen his wife “in action” and knows she’s perfectly awful, but in her defense she wasn’t attempting to assert that Donn2’s Snuffleupacancer is fake because The Psychic said so – that would be hearsay! No, she was simply expressing concern that Donn2 is not seeking the best available treatment, but it’s neither her business nor Grumpy Cat’s so EHM is arguably well-intended but needs to lay off; on this, the grownups agree. “Let’s go,” he commands EHM. “You are birdbrained,” EHM snaps at OG Vic. “‘Bye, Felicia!” OG Vic waves at EHM. What is this “‘Bye, Felicia” bullshit? It is running a close second to “all the feels” on my Top 5 Most Irritating Words or Phrases lexiconometer.

Vic chases down Grumpy Cat and keeps going after EHM. She demands to know what exactly he would do if someone was accusing him that Leanne’s Cancer was fake. He replies that he would storm into the oncologist’s office, demand the files, and throw them in the face of the person making the accusation, because HIPAA does not apply to Grumpy Cat, Wall Smasher. “Talk to me in five years when you are divorced,” snaps OG Vic. Now that’s not nice, but it is looking like it’s coming along sooner rather than later because Grumpy Cat commands EHM not to put him in that position again, to “zip it”, to “let it go”, and to get the hell in the car. EHM complies, but not without muttering that OG Vic is a “con artist”. Damn that child is tiresome.

Next time: we’re off to see the Wizard of Oklahoma City and check out the tornado shelter! The Beador kids try to salvage their parents’ marriage, H. Dubrow has an issue about something insignificant, Eddie finds out Tammy is supporting Son Ryan, and Brianna and Vic throw down over Donn2. I’m not gonna lie; I am a lot more excited about Ladies of London than I am about this shitshow.



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Freezer Paper Stencil Kitchen Towels with Cricut Explore ✂️ What I Made This Weekend

I am not a craft blogger, by any means, nor am I am hard-core DIYer. But I do like to make stuff myself for fun, and most weekends I make something. I bake something, I set up something, I make something. Not always big projects, but little things that take more time than I might have available during the week and give me a feeling of accomplishment, which is nice, as I often feel I’m paddling upstream against three obstructive monkeys and all the stuff, like doing the laundry or restocking milk, which will Never. End. While I will never have the time, or inclination, or regular crafting success to post DIY stuff all the time here, the DIY category will get an occasional, irregular entry reviewing my weekend misadventures.

This weekend I made two sets of flour-sack kitchen towels, freezer-paper stenciled with paint. (I love paint.) Bright sunny additions to my kitchen, although so far I can’t bring myself to wipe my hands on them.

freezer paper stencil circuit explore 1

Here’s how I did it.

Les Materials:

Yes, I know, we were working with a super-cheap list of materials before we got to the ma-chine on here! This is NOT a post sponsored by Cricut and is by no means, none WHATSOEVER, a required element of this project. I just happened to be gifted a Cricut Explore last Christmas by Mr. Little Mama, something I wanted so I can monogram anything that will sit still with impunity. I decided to put it to use on this project, but you can easily work with a steady hand and an X-Acto knife instead.

As far as this business with the ma-chine (we pronounce it here with a hard “ch” sound), I am still figuring out how this thing works project-by-project. I am crafty enough but NOT a scrapbooker, so I have never used any sort of die cutter before. I’m getting there. The Cricut Explore works in an online program called Cricut Design Space. I set up two text boxes and filled them in with my first word stencils, sorting through my font options before settling on one called PilGi.

freezer paper cricut explore layout


I don’t know whether that’s one native to Cricut or one I have on my ‘puter; one of the nice things about the Cricut Explore is that it loads up with whatever fonts you already have and lets you upload your own images so you aren’t buying things piece-by-piece (or cartridge by cartridge, as I understand was the case back in “the day”).

Once I decided I liked the font and had things the right size, I went to cut, and this is where the shit hit the fan. I cut a piece of freezer paper and stuck it, glossy side down, to one of my Cricut cutting mats that I’ve used a few times and that isn’t as sticky as it used to be. Not only did the paper keep getting unstuck and all mangled in the ma-chine, but nothing was cutting! I tried over and over again, before realizing that the lure of the ma-chine had at some point led Small to abscond with the cutting cylinder. He claims he has no idea what happened to it but it can only be him; no one else keeps fiddling with the ma-chine. I yelled for a while, then found the replacement, thank Chaka.

After more paper mangling, I pulled out another cutting mat that’s meant for “lightweight” projects; I am going to call freezer paper a “lightweight” material. I loaded the mat, set the materials dial to “custom”, and then got this nifty drop-down of material choices popped up from which I chose “parchment paper”, because that’s close enough. There’s all kinds of interesting choices on this list, from Post-It Notes to washi tape to printable tattoo paper, whatever that is.

freezer paper stencil circuit explore print


And thus, I cut. And then, I mounted. I did not take photos of this particular stage in the process on these towels because I became quickly embroiled in all the little holes and curlicues of the charming font I selected. I managed to get it together (save a few I overlooked), but particularly if you are working with an X-Acto knife might I suggest a simpler, serif-free font? Cut it out against a nice old magazine, like last week’s Us Weekly. Once you have your stencil cut out, you iron it glossy side down onto the surface you intend to stencil, come ça:

freezer paper stencil circuit explore iron

This is for towel set #2, for which I did a negative space stencil jobby ironing the letters themselves onto the towels. For set #1 with all the tricky little fancy font letters this was not an option, so I ironed on the negative space and stenciled the letters themselves. If you aren’t using acrylic paint for fabric, add a little textile medium to the color of your choosing and that will make your paint fabric-friendly. If you are doing pointillist dots like I did on my “yum” towel, I think Martha would say you are supposed to be using an implement called a “pouncer”. I do not have a “pouncer” nor was I inclined to brave the craft store on a Sunday, so I used a firm-bristled brush with a round tip instead and that was good enough for me.

I think they turned out pretty cute, don’t you?

freezer paper stencil circuit explore 2freezer paper stencil circuit explore 1It took longer for me to write this post than to actually make these towels, which is why this blog is never going to become an all-craft, all-the-time, every-day operation. But once in a while I’ll post one of my fiascos that panned out, because if I can do it, you can do it. We now resume our regularly scheduled Bravo programming.


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“LuAnn Does Her Best Work In The Restroom” 🍎 RHONY Season 10 Reunion Recap

I hadn’t even gotten a chance to write up my recap of Part 2 when all of a sudden Part 3 was on! Just as well as really I think we could have covered everything in 1.5 parts, so let’s hop to it. Parts 2 and 3 seem to have largely rehashed the same few things from different angles, so let’s jus attack this according to subject matter rather than in order of presentation, shall we?



Mr. Andy takes some time with Doritos, our newest Housewife, and helps us get to know her better. Doritos does not work; after Richard died she sold his company (which did some sort of analysis relevant to hedge funds, or something like that) and now just hangs. She claims that Hannah does not watch the show, is starting to be nicer to Fat John, and is more “British” in inclination. Does she call her mom Doris, as Doritos’ Brit friends do?

Doritos and Radzi revisit their London trip, which I missed entirely. They both found each other’s company delightful and the experience something that brought them full-circle in their widowhood. On the other hand, Doritos is ready to tear the rest of the Left Couch into tiny little bits and eat them. She’s furious with Kristen for suggesting Fat John, who is handsy, is handsy, and can’t believe Kristen has any boundaries for being nearly molested by strange, middle-aged men at cocktail parties seeing as she modeled topless. Which has what to do with anything? No matter, Kristen is “inappropriate”, and Doritos is still mad at her for bringing up this handsiness question in The Berkshires, the sacred Berkshires where conflict shall not tread, even though it was actually Mo who did it. When in doubt, Mo did it.

But the real person in trouble with Doritos is Holla, and Holla has no idea why and neither do I. There’s a lotta shouting about how Holla was a different person in Turks & Caicos, how Doritos gets tired and sensitive when she stays up too late drinking, and how Holla is condescending. Doritos thinks they need a long talk and walk in The Berkshires. So it shall be.


I could kick myself for not coming up with this nickname for Mo myself. Mr. Andy wants to know more about Mo’s New Beginnings; specifically, has she gone through a menopausal puberty, or are those haboobs upgraded? After first saying read her book, Mo concedes she did, in fact, get new fun bags. What else is in the book? The sordid details of the end of her marriage to Mario, which she blames on the show; Mario did not like to live in Mo’s shadow. He is experiencing a midlife crisis and is not happy with himself. He is passive aggressive and has a nasty side. He is going through male menopause. Or: he didn’t like Mo having priorities higher than him, maybe? Not liking his wife being MO SINGER instead of Mrs. Mario is not the same thing as feeling badly about himself in her shadow. Whatever, Mo lives in the SoMo land of delusion if you ask me.

Mr. Andy asks the others whether or not Mo has changed, which neatly hands the emcee mike to Queen B who is dying to monopolize the discussion some more. Say what she will, she loves hosting a talk show. Beth thinks that when Mo is angry she lashes out way worse than whoever who did whatever to amger her, and then she tries to put a bow on it to make things right afterward. It’s insincere, and Mo needs to work on processing her feelings and changing her behavior. She also retells the “Mo Stole My Dress” story and in her version, which Mo disputes, weakly, Mo stuffed a dress in her purse and took off from the Bethenny set, then when an assistant went to go trade out a less valuable dress for the one she escaped with, pretending she wasn’t home to answer the door, took the new dress, and kept dress #1, too. Her explanation later was that Mario put it in the back of the car but it fell out, a story quickly shot to bits when she posted photos of herself and Avery in the dresses on Instagram. Mo doesn’t see why it matters now since the show is not in production anymore, but Beth insists stealing is stealing (as it is) and wants Mo to donate the value of two dresses to “Dress For Success”. They get a little scrappy about what each knows about the skeletons in each others’ closets but that doesn’t really go anywhere other than glaring.

So Morgan, International Woman Of Delusion

Time for Mr. Andy to give So, who is sitting dangerously at the end of the right hand couch, some more attention, this time for her Lifestyle Brand rather than her BAC. Everyone applauds So for executing a fashion show in which there were actual clothes (SHE By Sheree!) and all agree they want to see her succeed. However, they also want her to get over her damn self and drop the bullshit, such as her insistence that she has real employees and space (not just consultants and rent-an-offices), that she’s totally going to be in Bergdorfs and not just on the internet, that Madonna TOTALLY came to her fashion show but the security wasn’t up to required levels. Nevermind that she was photographed out of the country that day. Several of the wives have ordered from the So Morgan New York line; Radzi’s pants have actually showed up and are hanging in her closet, while Beth has been waiting six weeks. So apologizes to Kristen for the non-diss about the toaster. The End.

Turds and Catfights

The real topic where all the action is, of course, Turks & Caicos, The Naked Man, and Lu. The Kountess is very excited we’re getting down to the dirty business because she’s been waiting all night. I honestly feel like we’ve been over this 101 times, but let’s get this done once and for all. Mo explains that she and the other old bags (minus Doritos) went out to do karaoke (o god) and ended up bringing some guy and his friend back “for a drink”. So was merely along as a spectator to smile and serenly watch the train wreck unfold, while Mo and Lu carried on loudly and drunkenly until Mo could carry on no more. Mo wanted to go to bed and not with her guy, and he was a bit stuck because his friend had disappeared on the beach with Lu leaving him drunk and lost and unable to Uber up a disappearing act. So Mo sent him upstairs to sleep in Beth’s empty bedroom, but told him NOT to use the bathroom and to get out at dawn. She did not tell him to take all his clothes off, nor did she tell him it was okay to have breakfast with the chef which he did.

Mr. Andy wants to know why, if this is all Mo’s fault, this has somehow become an Incident between Holla and Lu. Holla explains that Mo is off the hook because she didn’t write a song about it and traipse around bitching about it for the last three months. Speaking of #girlcode, Mr. Andy wants to know why it isn’t a #girlcode violation for Lu to have hooked up with someone else’s husband. Lu insists (a) she wasn’t “with” him, (b) merely strolled the beach in the dark, inebriated, and ending up sleeping in her bathing suit, and (c) he is getting a divorce and what the state of things is between him and his wife is his problem and not hers. OK.

Mr. Andy also wants to know why Lu pitched such a fit about her “privacy” in her bedroom when she knows full well that there are cameras everywhere and this is what she signed up for. A whole lotta circling around and around goes on, and finally Lu acknowledges that she fucked The Pirate and did not want to get caught with another Pirate and that’s why she was mad at Holla for entering her room with cameras in tow. But not before trying to insinuate that it was actually HOLLA who boned The Pirate. Which I really doubt. Whatever, they all hug and make up and someone cancels Everyone Hates Holla week. And they all go out to dinner together after. The end.


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“I’m Fun!” “Not Really!” 🍊 RHOC Season 10 Episode 12 Recap

Before we get to the smelly car racing and dining in dust with shrieking mimis, raise your hand if you are surprised that a Real Househusband has been caught on this Ashley Madison list. The only surprise for me is that Josh Taekman was the first – and so far only – one busted. Where are these lists that people are scouring for dirt? I read today that there are only THREE zip codes in the entire United States with no Ashley Madison accounts. How is that? I’d never even heard of this operation.

why is he always dressed like a Hasidic Jew?

Anyway, my take on the Taekmans is that I feel sorry for them. I think Josh is out of his league with Kristen, and knows it, which is why he’s seeking to get his ego stroked by additional attention. I think Kristen has her own self-esteem issues settling for him and even upgrading her perfectly-perfect figure to please him. Whether or not he actually did anything, they have to spend some time having a hard think about things. Sad. (Also: she’s now probably a sure thing for season 8 of RHONY if she wants it. And the big question is: who’s next?)

On the flip side of extracurricular marital activities, we have Tammy’s son Ryan and his baby mama, who are checking out Vic’s Brown House as a possible venue for their upcoming wedding. Such a scenario would have made for a natural finale for season 10, except (a) I don’t think it happened as I don’t think they have gotten married anywhere yet, and (b) he’s recently been arrested for domestic violence, which doesn’t bode well for them getting married anywhere in the future. Anyway, after a little chit chat about weddings and churchy stuff, like Tammy’s potential baptism (in which I fully expect a bolt of lightning to strike her), the “lovebirds” hang outside while Vic n’ Tam chat on the couch.

This is when Tammy fills Vic in on What The Psychic Said, which Shannon was getting ready to reveal before Vic cut her off and stormed out. Vic reacts to What The Psychic Said with utter certainty that he is predicting a cure for Donn2, the very cure to which they have so fervently prayed to The Lord. However, if it’s bad news Vic doesn’t give a goose poop what the psychic said, nor does she care what Everyone Hates Meghan has to say about anything, because she’s 30 and stupid. “She can kiss my ass!” yowls the OG. It won’t be hard to locate…


Everyone but Vic, who is pissy and has better things to do, anyway, are off to a NASCAR race with Everyone Hates Meghan and her husband, Grumpy Cat. Meghan explains that because Grumpy Cat is such a big deal in the sports world they get regular begged to come sit in suites at sporting events such as NASCAR. Being on a reality TV show geared at NASCAR’s latest growing demographic wouldn’t have a damn thing to do with it.

Anyway, the Edmonds and the Dubrows are there pre-dawn, intelligently attired for a filthy sport in white pants and heels, and get introduced to a bunch of car racing people and are like “hullo”. Has Heather Dubrow not watched Cars with her people? Ever? Does Michael Waltrip not at least ring a bell with Darrell Cartrip? Does she not recognize the voice? This is absurd. I don’t know the first thing about NASCAR but I know that much, thank you, Pixar. They get in the pace car and drive around in circles for a while before going up to the suite and whispering about how the OG is so so mad about What The Psychic Said and accused Meghan of insinuating things. Well, you did, says H. Dubrow. You is gonna git it, girl! Mmmm hmmm.


More white pants arrive in the form of Tammy and Shannon, and black pants in the form of H. Dubrow depart. They sit in the race car which has no steering wheel (?) and then go back up to the suite to gossip about What The Psychic Said and whether EHM was insinuating things. The menfolk are finding this tiresome, as am I. EHM wants to be mad at Shannon, but it was actually TAMMY who outed her. Also, EHM’s concern is purely from the heart and is an outpouring of concern for Leanne, and also Donn2. RIGHT. But now she’s an asshole, but she’s in good company, because Shannon is “the first asshole”, and Tammy has been one her whole life. Sounds about right.

The workweek comes around and Tammy stops by her Keller Williams office to discuss jumpstarting her hibernating career as a Realtor®. She’s gonna need to pump up her income because she’s also committed to putting a down payment of nearly $8K on Son Ryan and The Baby Mama’s new rental, and is no doubt going to have to pony up the $3500 monthly, too, since Eddie is not rehiring Ryan at CUT and what other options does he have, all no skills like that? Oh, and Tammy’s not telling Eddie about this financial outlay, either. You is gonna git it, girl! Mmmm hmmm.

Shannon is painting in the craft room with her girls, because she is Fun Mom. “Not really!” shouts the sassy peg-leg one. Shannon feels that since the girls were exposed to the dark, unseemly side of her collapsing marriage, it’s important for them to witness it’s phoenix-like resurrection with more loving communication and peaceful familyness. They are going to start this resurrection with Shannon’s upcoming birthday dinner. This is a bad idea. Birthdays are like New Year’s and Prom, never measure up to the anticipation.

Another birthday girl is Vic, who is being escorted onto a barge piloted by Captain Bob for a private dinner at sea. This is what they skipped NASCAR for. Vic is in a cocktail dress while Donn2 is in his customary untucked maternity blouse and mom jeans. This is Vic’s first birthday without her mommy, and it’s a big time party all about her, even though Donn2 is dying of The Cancer. He appreciates that he’s not in this alone. I wish we were not in this with either one of them.

Our pretend Realtor®, Tammy, is pretend showing what is apparently Heather Locklear’s old house to EHM, who is pretending Grumpy Cat might actually buy it for her. I am increasingly suspicious that Grumpy Cat is hemming and hawing about a real estate investment because he’s hoping EHM will somehow get lost and thereby resolve this terrifying marital situation he’s found himself in. This whole scene is here merely to illustrate that EHM, who was born after the house was constructed in 1983 and is only vaguely familiar with Tommy Lee and Richie Sambora, who knocked boots with Heather in the master, is Very Young. We Know.

Time for Shannon’s birthday dinner. Shannon has very high hopes for this birthday excursion, because last year Mr. Shannon fulfilled his marital duties in accordance with the Vanderpump Rule, and then skipped out to frolic nude with his lady on the side. Shannon is still hurt and raw about that episode, and this dinner is going to do nothing to resolve it because Mr. Shannon decided to drag the entire family out to some sports pub for fatty short ribs and a whole sectioned lime garnishing Shannon’s Grey Goose. The birthday queenie is gravely disappointed, the kids are having panic attacks, and Mr. Shannon pouts about how he can’t do anything right, which makes Shannon whine some more about the tension. May I suggest that next birthday you order take out from Five Guys and eat at home? Then the peg leg wouldn’t have to miss Teen Titans Go or whatever it is she’s been complaining about. Birthdays are inevitably going to be a fail, you should know that by 51, girl!

So: Heather has invited everyone, and a few randoms, to Chateau Dubrow Part Deux to ooh and ahh over the progress and eat a dusty lunch enhanced by drop cloths and the sound of table saws whining. This is going to be the first time EHM has to see the OG since What The Psychic Said, and she’s shaking in her boots like a science lab skeleton in a Scooby Doo episode. Welcomed by hot servers Doug & Zach, who will be getting their own spinoff soon, the gang tours the 14 baths (one more than Shannon has in Palais Beador, an increase she sniffs crosses the bounds of obnoxiousness), the luggage room, and the separate toilet rooms (key to marital happiness, Heather declares; I am in agreement, as I believe would be Ashley Madison) before they arrive in the Marie Schrader Memorial Ballroom for a carb-free, dust-enhanced luncheon of tofu and poo with air-sauced arugula.


The hostess has them clink around the table for friendship, and the tension is thick. Much in the way that I can’t seem to help taking The Lord’s name in vain in front of the devout, EHM can’t seem to stop herself from talking about The Cancer now that The OG is staring her down from across the table. After telling Shannon that she’s got a call in for Leanne to the cancer expert Donn2 has no time for, EHM decides to address the dead cat on the table head on. She understands from Vic’s text telling her to fuck off that Vic is upset with her. “You’re damn right I am!” Vic shrieks, finger-waving and don’t-you-evers and all. The rest of the table freezes like deer in headlights. This is a good sign, though, for Tammy, who thinks Vic wouldn’t be freaking out if she actually knew Donn2 was lying. (Note that this doesn’t mean Tammy doesn’t think Donn2 is lying; it means she doesn’t think Vic KNOWS he’s lying nor that Vic is lying FOR him.)


There’s no way this was going to go well, but EHM is not gonna give up without a fight. She tells Vic that Tammy and Heather said Vic had never been to the doctor with Donn2. Heather’s eyes bug and she gulps. EHM just can’t understand how Donn2 would not be bothered with City of Hope, which her beloved Leanne can’t even get into, and how Vic can allow this to happen! It PAINS her, EHM! Pains her heart! Vic is disgusted and orders EHM, who has only met Donn2 twice at this point, to mind her own damn business. EHM retorts that if it’s fine for Vic to have an opinion about EHM’s stepdaughter, then why isn’t it fine for EHM to have an opinion about the wisdom or lack thereof in Donn2’s treatment choices? She’s researched reservatrol, and it’s just an excuse to drink red wine! “SHUT UP!” screams Vic. “You’re just an old woman pissed off and bitter at the world, you shut up!” EHM insolently retorts. Oh shit. TO BE CONTINUED.

only the one eyebrow moves, have you noticed?

Next time: it gets continued, all right. After H. Dubrow fails to get EHM into Time Out, there’s a kink party. Somehow I think they are going to find Grumpy Cat snarling in the corner.


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Summer Reading 📙 Five for Friday

It’s been months – months I tell you! since I’ve posted anything other than a reality recap on this blog. Believe it or not, I do a lot of other things besides watching horrible women on Bravo and writing about it afterward. One of my favorite things to do on my “own time” is read. Here are five books I’ve read this summer that I have really enjoyed; hopefully one or two are new suggestions for you and might make your end-of-summer reading list.

1. The Luckiest Girl Alive, by Jessica Knoll


The Luckiest Girl Alive is, unsurprisingly, being called “this summer’s Gone Girl“, and it’s entirely due the praise. (And is much better than Dark Places, “this summer’s other book by the author of Gone Girl, which I couldn’t get into on two separate occasions.) Jessica Knoll’s first novel brings us the improbably-named Ani FaNelli, a bitter, ruthlessly-ambitious magazine editor in Manhattan who appears to have it all, having fought hard to get it. At first Ani is nearly impossible to like, but as she tells her story – starting in her adolescence, tracing through to how she got here and now – it becomes impossible not to begin to empathize and see a bit of yourself in her (at least, if you are female). Just when you think you’ve arrived at the twist that you anticipated, suddenly there’s another one that you never saw coming. Unlike The Girl On The Train, another current novel to which it’s been frequently compared, Ani is a protagonist that you don’t want to take out back and throttle four times a chapter. There’s sardonic humor, raw tragedy, and the flickering lights of Manhattan.

2. The Woman I Wanted to Be, by Diane Von Furstenberg


OK, first of all: stupidest title ever. Second? This isn’t particularly well-written, and on the whole left me thinking this woman is perfectly ridiculous. But: I love DVF, both for her fashion and her larger-than-life personality, and to be honest the only reason I downloaded this book was because a magazine article about another member of her family made me wonder about the dirt. I’ve now come to realize that So Morgan is totally Single White Femaling DVF and hoping (a) it works, and (b) nobody notices. This is a fun, light read, dancing through the fashion and social whirls of my lifetime with plenty of name-dropping, juicy gossip, and preposterous activities all thanks to a true diva of fashion, who in the end seems genuinely filled with love and joy. Who minds that?

3. The Hundred-Year House, by Rebecca Makkai


I picked this paperback up on a whim passing through my favorite small bookseller, immediately before Small got his fingers pinched in the door hinge and we had to pay and make a break for it. He came out unscathed in the end and I ended up with an unexpected jewel of a book to read at the end of our summer travels. This is the story of a fictional house: Laurelfield, constructed in the northern suburbs of Chicago (my native stomping grounds) by and for the outrageously wealthy industrialist Devohr family of Canada, several generations of whose members lived in it, tragically died in it, and may have carried on haunting it as it became an artists’ colony before reverting back to sheltering, and possibly destroying the lives of, more Devohr descendants. The novel is told in three parts: on the cusp of the Y2K; in the 50s, after the colony; and finally during the last days of the colony itself. Only until the final paragraph do all the threads tie together. This is one book I’d love to re-read to catch the Easter eggs I missed, and reminds me that there’s something you get reading a good story on paper that eludes digital reading. Also: be sure to read the Acknowledgements to the final line.

4. The Ride of Our Lives, by Mike Leonard


If you watch the Today show you might know Mike Leonard, and might even have seen some of his dispatches from the road as he criss-crossed America in an RV with his elderly parents and several of his children along for the ride. Mr. Leonard grew up and still lives in my hometown, so he’s a local celebrity and the flashbacks to his childhood feature the same locations and experiences of mine. This is really not as much a memoir as a love letter to Mike’s wacky, often unintentionally hilarious parents, the wine-loving, profanity-spewing Marge and the sober and effusive Jack. This is a easy read that will make you laugh out loud, love Mike’s family, and want to hit the road with your own. (And most of the reviews on Amazon erroneously refer to some sort of nonfiction book about Barry Bonds and steroids in baseball, so disregard.)

5. A Pleasure and a Calling, by Phil Hogan


So this is the book I am currently reading, and I offer the recommendation with the caveat that I am only on chapter four and have no idea where this is going. But I am one hundred percent absorbed. William Heming is an “estate agent” (read: realtor) in a charming English village (aren’t they all?), who has a wee little secret hobby: he is a peeper. Not a window peeper; no, Mr. Heming has the keys to every house he’s ever sold, and he likes to use them to keep tabs on things. I love anything told in a droll British voice, and I especially love British humor, and so far there’s a lot of it in dark form. But I can already feel the tension building and the unexpected about to unfold. Anyone who leaves an unbagged dog turd as a calling card is my kind of antihero.

Happy weekend, and happy reading!


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