Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Unlikely Duos” January 9, 2012Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last Time: Kandi wants to do country. Phaedra wants to start a funeral home. Cynthia wants her husband to stop being a dick. Everybody wants to rule the world.
Happy New Year, children! Let’s see what these hot messes have in store for us in the year of our doom 2012! We begin with Phaedra, Prince Ayden and Pastor Regina. I wonder if Pastor Regina knows about Ridickulous? Phaedra is still talking about doing this funeral home thing. Pastor Regina is excited about it…because she thinks she can get on board with this. Well, Apollo sure as hell ain’t on board. Phaedra wants to produce funerals with PIZAZZ. All righty then.
We shuffle right on over to Cynthia and Papa Smurf. They’re going to salsa lessons, but Cynthia’s still butthurt from Papa Smurf’s absence at that tacky assed party for her tacky assed modeling school or whatever the hell the Bailey Agency is supposed to be. Papa Smurf says that they don’t have fun anymore. Show of hands—when did we ever see this couple having fun? Cynthia says their major problem is communication. He says that he doesn’t like to say goodbye—even if he’s just leaving a tacky assed party. Is this a salsa lesson or a therapy session? Both of them double down on the crazy. Finally, “Andrea” brings her ass into the scene for this odd salsa lesson—-and then we go to commercial. Oy, vey.
When we come back, we’re now visiting Kim and her family. Kim’s wearing a dress that is really showing off her breasts. Kroy’s Fine Ass is wandering around this giant house that his money is barely going to be able to pay for. His face is frozen in blank horror as Kim eats up all his signing bonus on Versace place settings ($500 per setting). Brielle is becoming Bitchelle. Kroy’s Fine Ass tries to turn into Kroy’s Hard Ass. Ariana continues fulfilling her role as The Good Daughter. Kim, you really need to curb your spending habits before Kroy’s Fine Ass sends your ass packing.
What? We’re in Nashville? I wonder why? Oh, yes. We’re here to see Kandi claim that Jo Dee Messina “invited” her to write a song with her. I really don’t understand this happening. What is happening here? Anyway, Kandi sings a song she’s written, and Jo Dee has a frozen grin on her face that is all, “No.” She lies and says it’s good stuff. It so fucking isn’t. Has Kandi ever listened to country music? EVER?
NeNe is having lunch with Marlo the Concubine. NeNe says that she does not have beef with the Concubine. They begin talking about the Irrelevant Football Player. The Concubine is trying for all she’s worth to be a new Housewife. NeNe interviews that she’ll never fight over another dude. Well, I hope not, especially Irrelevant Football Player, because he looks afflicted.
Fig. 1: Ladies, please do not fight over this man. Seriously. Come on.
Anyway, the Concubine says that she’s been arrested seven times. NeNe: “Now say what now?” She says she thinks that the Concubine is real. Real crazy, I betcha. The Concubine says she doesn’t like drama…which means that bitch ain’t nothing BUT drama.
Fig. 2: Moral of the story: don’t mess with crazy.
Speaking of, Sheree shows up to help Kim get her pre-baby body back. Sheree’s like, “Damn, I’ll never see anything like this!” She interviews that she didn’t have much luck snagging a professional athlete. No shit. Sheree tries to get that beweaved idiot to work out, but Kim complains the entire fucking time. Sheree: “I don’t think that Kim will ever be as dedicated to health and fitness as I am…” She is the master of the understatement this episode, isn’t she? She tries to motivate Kim by referencing Kroy’s Fine Ass—if that doesn’t get her doing some crunches, I don’t know what will.
Moving on…we’re now at Willie Watkins’s Funeral Home again. Phaedra is trying to get the Hot Piece of Ass intrigued in the mortuary business. Why the hell is she going to Watkins to ask for business advice? And why the hell is Bravo putting subtitles on everything Willie is saying? He’s speaking English. Jesus, Bravo. I will say this: HPoA is cutting a nice figure in a suit. Mmm HM.
We’re back in Nashville at some country store. Kandi remarks that she’ll be the only black person in the store. She also interviews that she thinks she has country swag. This is stupid.
NeNe goes to the “Captain Planet Foundation Jewelry Fundraiser.” THE HELL? Captain Planet?!?
Fig. 3: Is the real Captain Planet gonna have to choke a bitch?
Anyway, it’s weird for NeNe to hang out with the Concubine as she’s hanging around these shady people. I don’t believe this is an actual charity for a minute. Anyway, this is allegedly related to Ted Turner. This is some bullshit. NeNe says she doesn’t need a $25,000 pair of earring, which is correct because she fucking can’t afford them. Frankly, I think the Concubine “invited” NeNe to this soiree to let NeNe know who’s boss and who’s really got the funds.
HPoA shows up to Phaedra’s office with flowers. He claims that he doesn’t want to be tainted by working with dead bodies. He’s nice to look at, but he really ought not speak. Anyway, he surprisingly decides to support Phaedra’s Fantasy Funerals. Aren’t you surprised? I was surprised. Totally. Completely.
Anyway, Cynthia and Papa Smurf visit some one-off church to get some counseling from Pastor Pollard. He whips out his iPad and I’m irritated. Because I don’t have one. Anyway, they blather about their individual lunacies. Pollard strings words together in an incomprehensible sentence. Then both Papa Smurf and Cynthia begin hurling sentences at each other. These idiots seem to think that marriage is always supposed to be wine and roses, but I truly couldn’t care less. I’ve got shit in my refrigerator that has a longer shelf life than this marriage.
Skippy Prejudges The Movies!: “Joyful Noise” January 1, 2012Posted by Skippy in Movies, Observations, Popular Culture.
Tags: FAIL!, movies, trainwrecks
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Fig. 1: The Worst Movie of 2012.
I’ve been seeing commercials for this cinematic abomination for nigh unto three weeks now and have either changed the channel with extreme alacrity or have had to take an insulin shot to prevent going into a diabetic coma. I generally loathe “feel good” movies that are this shallow, this poorly written and this nakedly manipulative.
Clearly, this movie is an attempt to capitalize on America’s love affair with Glee—which would mean that this movie should have been released two years ago (and probably not even then). Anyway, this movie appears to feature Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah as parental figures in a “small town” who are in contention for the directorship of a church choir. You have to love movies like this; they are always set in “small towns,” most likely in Alabamanianatuckyssippiennessee. And the church that both Parton and Latifah attend has a “council”—I’d bet good money that this church is as non-descript as the small town in which this celluloidal putrefaction is set.
Apparently, the “plot” of this movie revolves around Parton (looking freshly Botoxed, pulled, and shellacked) and Latifah’s rivalry. Latifah is staid and old fashioned, which means that the choir never wins the Joyful Noise choir competition of WTF? Enter Parton’s grandson, some Taylor Lautner-adjacent boy who can sing and Latifah’s daughter, some poor child who really wants to break into Hollywood. They’re supposed to be Romeo and Juliet, bringing fresh ideas to church choirs…like shaking your ass for Jesus.
Fig. 2: Jesus don’t like ugly. And this movie is U-G-L-Y.
Blah, blah, blah, you’re supposed to plunk down upwards of $11 plus the cost of refreshments to watch Parton and Latifah trade stupid barbs and you’re supposed to go “Oooh” and “Awww” as two totally non-descript younglings have a love affair so boring, even Edward and Bella look interesting by comparison. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to speculate that Latifah learns the error of her staid and boring ways and allows the non-descript church choir to sing some stupid ass-shaking song and then the choir wins and the non-descript younglings go off to Who Gives A Fuckistan to pursue their dreams of having sex.
Skippy’s Pre-Judgment: Kill it with fire.
It Must Be Tough Being Sarah Palin December 21, 2011Posted by Skippy in Observations, Politics.
Tags: FAIL!, has-been celebrities, idiots
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One must really feel for poor Sarah Palin. First, her reality show on TLC tanks–I mean, it’s TLC. They show reality shows about poop drying. Then her poor daughter Bristol doesn’t win “Dancing with the Stars,” a loss which is most likely attributable to the fact that everyone in Not Real America has a massive grudge against Poor Sarah Palin. And then, she’s upstaged by a politician who is even dumber than she is! All Sarah wanted to do was represent Real America, and here comes this crazier-eyed Michelle Bachmann! And her husband isn’t even cute! Or straight! Allegedly! I mean, was Michelle Bachmann ever a grizzly mom quitter governor of a frontier state? No! But Michelle Bachmann did actually make a run for the presidency, instead of doing all this wink-and-nod bullshit that Palin’s been doing since 2008. Nevertheless, we shouldn’t let facts get in the way of one incontrovertible point: Sarah Palin has pretty much failed as a media personality. And when that happens, when an ascendant political celebrity sees his/her fortunes waning, they must do one thing:
Swing for the fences and go even crazier. And with the help of—who else?—Fox News, Palin does just that.
This is what she has to say…about President Obama’s Christmas card:
Former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin told Fox News & Commentary that she found the card to be a bit unusual.
“It’s odd,” she said, wondering why the president’s Christmas card highlights his dog instead of traditions like “family, faith and freedom.”
“Even stranger than that was his first year in office when the Christmas ornaments included Chairman Mao,” Palin said. “People had to ask that it be removed because it was offensive.”
Oh, honey. It’s a fucking Christmas card, not the Declaration of Independence. What is the card supposed to have? An armed-to-the-teeth Obama parachuting into Afghanistan wearing a Santa suit and busting caps in Osama Bin Laden’s ass while screaming, “Merry Christmas, Unbeliever”?
See, this is what happens when irrelevant people begin to openly slide into irrelevance. Grasping at any chance to find themselves on the front page, they will say or do anything—ANYTHING—just for a taste of that sweet, sweet fame they once enjoyed, until finally, they say something so outrageous and utterly stupid, that even Charlie Sheen is all, “Dude, WTF?”
Oh, and here’s the allegedly offensive Christmas card:
Fig. 1: What, you don’t see the Muslims in the background dancing on the burned bits of the Constitution and the U.S. Flag while Obama is smiling and smoking a doobie?
Skippy Hates Men’s Cologne Commercials December 19, 2011Posted by Skippy in Popular Culture, Rants, Television.
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As you all know, I hate commercials. Well, who doesn’t? After all, commercials are the reason the DVR was invented. However, there are times in which I for some reason cannot avoid commercials. At any rate, I happened to see a commercial that simultaneously befuddled and irritated me:
Fig. 1: Someone, kill me now. Correction: someone kill him now.
I don’t think I’d ever heard of Paco Rabanne before seeing this commercial; now that I know this “fragrance” exists, I wish I had the power to drive this company out of existence.
1. The music is just so garish.
2. Why do men’s cologne commercials have these emaciated emotwinks? Is this what is allegedly “sexy”?
3. Wearing this fragrance will not grant you massive telekinetic powers–and even if it does, you shouldn’t use those powers to strip off women’s clothes.
4. Also, wearing this fragrance will not immediately transform you into a jet-setting nouveau rich emotwink.
To be fair, this isn’t limited to this Paco Rabanne. It seems this weekend was “men’s cologne commercial weekend,” so I saw commercials from brands like Giorgio Armani and Bleu De Chanel:
Fig. 2: This was actually directed by Martin Scorsese.
“I’m not going to be the person I’m expected to be”?!? What? What does spritzing yourself with an overpriced alcohol-based concoction have to do with this emotwink being…an apparently self-indulgent emotwink? If I need to have read Deluze, Irigiray and Derrida to try to make sense of your commercial pushing cologne, then you have missed the fucking point. I get it—you want to present a “high class” image for your stink oil. You want viewers to associate your particular brand with wealth, glamour, and…a certain kind of emaciated masculinity, I guess. Guess what? So does Acura and Lexus and Infiniti and Mercedes-Benz and BMW. What’s the difference? Their commercials actually sell luxury without being ridiculous. How about doing that?
Fig. 3: Don Draper is not impressed with your cologne commercials.
Real Housewives of Atlanta: “New Tricks” December 18, 2011Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last Time: Kim brings home a baby, Kandi brings useless drama, Sheree brings Phaedra business, and Bob the Ex brings a surprise motion. Everybody gets something!
Tonight’s “supersized” episode begins with Phaedra Parks, Attorney at Law, getting those billable hours from Sheree. Phaedra has on too much goddamn eyeshadow. Sheree is pissed about the last time in court, but Phaedra thinks things are going well. Phaedra lets Sheree know that she is handling the business she needs to handle, but Sheree thinks that Bob is two steps ahead. Phaedra puts it down: “You didn’t put money down until the day before.” Sheree gon’ find out that Phaedra don’t play. Phaedra pretty much says, “Bitch, you need to find another lawyer.” Good move. Sheree tries to act like she was going to fire Phaedra. Bitch, please.
At Casa de Kim, Kroy’s Fine Ass is just…around. Anyway, Kim is planning on moving in with Kroy’s Fine Ass. Kim meets with an interior designer to spend up more of Kroy’s Fine Ass’s money. Oh, they’re moving into a 17,000 square foot house. She really is down with the 99%, that Kim.
Cynthia and Papa Smurf show up at some typical Atlanta art event. She invited the rest of the cast to the show, saying she wants to bring more New York class to Atlanta. Sheree interviews that she loves art and clothes. What up with that clothing line, Sheree? NeNe shows up in a hideous outfit…as does the Concubine (her name is Marlo). Cynthia claims that Marlo the Concubine is “high society.” Kandi spreads shit about the Concubine’s claim about God giving her money. To her credit, she does say this to the Concubine’s face. Kandi interviews, “Does she blow to get money?”
The next filmed day, Cynthia is doing a photo shoot. She claims that she and Papa Smurf were “selected” by “hot” photographer Drexina (is she Romulan?) as a hot couple, so they decide to pimp the soon to fail Bar One. Papa Smurf tells Cynthia that her invites to her School of Beauty will not get where they need to be when they need to. Cynthia whines that she needs Papa Smurf to call Malorie to mail out the invites posthaste. He ain’t trying to hear that. Papa Smurf notes that he’s failed 99 times. Gurl, you too old to keep failing.
It’s moving day for Kim! I hope to various deities that Kroy is making massive amounts of money and has phenomenal stats. I mean, a 17,000 square foot house? Anyway, Kim micromanages the movers and fusses over her wigs. Kroy’s Fine Ass looks like he’s beginning to regret some things. Anyway, Bravo reminisces over life at the townhouse…over the past couple of seasons. They even included the DJ Tracy faux-lesbianism nonsense. It’s so obviously contrived.
NeNe is trying to talk some sense into her son Dumb Ass. Bryson is 22 and aimless. NeNe wants him to show some kind of firing synapses and hopes that he is wearing condoms when he has sex. Who would let that on top of them? NeNe interviews that Bryson has grown up more in the past year. Good for him. At least he has a decent haircut now.
Don Juan, Kandi’s Manager tells Kandi to stop doing non-profit work for stupid people—specifically, Kim and Lawrence. I guess Lawrence’s sub-subplot went nowhere fast. He’s all, “Heffa, we need to be making money!” Kandi wants to do a country album. Wha–? Don Juan and Kandi talk in very oblique ways and say that country music is pretty much “Whites Only.” Honey, stick with what you know.
Anyway, at Kroy’s Fine Assed Home, the interior designer wants to finish the house. It’s allegedly the same day…but now it’s night. Where the fuck do they live? In another state? Again, this is some editing bullshit. Kroy’s Fine Ass is all, “Um, how much is this shit costing me?” The baby’s bedroom is so tacky. So tacky. I can’t even describe it.
Oh, wait. It gets worse. Ariana’s bedroom is worse. And Brielle’s bedroom is five times worse than that. This is nouveau riche run amok. Kim is happy that she found a football player to make all her dreams come true. Aw, aren’t you just happy that the gold digger found the right pot of gold?
Kandi’s in the recording studio when she gets a Skype call from Jo Dee Messina. They talk about Lil’Ronnie writing a country song, since he wrote a “hit” for American Idol scourge Scotty McCreery. Anyway, Jo Dee isn’t really crazy about country ballads. Kandi notes that not many African Americans have gotten into country. No shit, Sherlock. Lil’Ronnie is all, “No, we won’t be doing any man bashing songs.”
Malorie walks into Cynthia’s and has a cup full of ‘tude. Cynthia notes that people don’t think models are smart. Well, honey, you ain’t busting that curve. Cynthia whines that people didn’t RSVP so she doesn’t know how many people are coming to her whatever event. She’s really stressed, so of course, she begins crying—right as the poor make-up gay is trying to do her damn make-up. Kelvin the Make-Up Gay is all, “Bitch, take five seconds and breathe so I can finish this shit!” Malorie really isn’t helping to alleviate the stress. Those two are going to be great friends when they get older.
Cynthia is concerned that people might not show up to her soiree…but she need not worry. There are people at this event! Including Regina Belle, recording artist! Malorie bitches that Papa Smurf is there for the fun, but not for the work. Mal, I think you missed the point. Kandi shows up, wearing shit that is too goddamn tight. So, I think what she’s doing is a school of modeling. Will there be houses? Like Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw? Anyway, Cynthia lets Kandi know that in New York, Center of Culture, everyone RSVPs, unlike the bumpkins in Atlanta. She also hopes that NeNe and Kim don’t start shit.
Phaedra: “If Cynthia can trick em into paying her some money to think that they gon’ be models and hopefully build their self esteem so that they can go to school and be a lawyer or a doctor or something else that is guaranteed money, then it’s a great concept. Mm hm.”
The Concubine arrives. I bet she wants to be a housewife. She stands next to Phaedra to take pictures. Disinterested, Apollo walks off. Sheree interviews that Cynthia needs to put on the A/C. Kim and Kroy arrive. She hopes that Moose NeNe doesn’t show up and she interviews without a trace of irony, “I don’t really know Marlo, but I’ve heard that Marlo sleeps with wealthy men and they give her money or buy her nice things. Who does that?” Presented without comment.
Enter the Moose. NeNe arrives, and Kim notes that this is the first time that she’s been in the same room with her. Kandi overhears NeNe say that she used to be a model: “NeNe says she used to be a model, which…well, she’s really tall.” HA! Anyway, Concubine out the blue goes in on Kandi about the questions about her money. Kim: “Marlo got her money from God. Ha! No, bitch. God gave you a hole for you to make your money from.” Anyway, Concubine acts like she’s got dirt on Kandi, claiming that she’s heard that Kandi’s a sugar mama. Oooooh!
Kroy’s Fine Ass finds all this humorous. Everyone finds Concubine’s explanation of how she got her money foolish. Kim finds this drama tiresome, so she leaves the premises. Hell, if I had Kroy’s Fine Ass, we’d have just stopped in to say hi, have a drink and then back to the house. I am just saying.
I also note that everyone is fanning themselves. I guess Sheree is right—the A/C either isn’t on or it isn’t working. Speaking of not working, Cynthia can’t find Papa Smurf for her big moment. So sad. So very, very sad. Well, see y’all next week!
Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Law By Sheree” December 14, 2011Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last Time: Kandi wants to do an adult toy line. Some idiot football player and his concubine make their idiotic debut at NeNe’s expense. Kim delivers her bundle of joy, Kroy, Jr. Sheree gets served! But wait, didn’t this just happen, like, two days ago?
Well, Bravo thinks we need a special episode of RHoAtlanta, so, here we go! Sheree is at Phaedra’s office to let her know that she got served. Bob’s salary has dropped, so he wants to modify the child support that Sheree claims he never paid. Phaedra want to be the “legal eagle” she needs to be; she suggests getting Bob’s Broke Ass arrested, but Sheree doesn’t want that. To be that legal eagle, she’s going to have to start billing Sheree. Oh, this ain’t going to end well.
Over at Kandi’s radio show, she has invited the irrelevant football player and his concubine. Gee. I wonder if the producers had any hand in this? Especially since Kandi is talking about “how to catch a baller.” Irrelevant football player blathers about women not…doing something. Or carrying themselves like hookers. As I live and blog, this has been a day of irrelevant dumbasses saying dumb shit. Ok, that’s it. He is Irrelevant Football Player (IFP) and she is The Concubine. The Concubine says that her money comes from God. Kandi interviews that the Concubine had a white sugar daddy. This is some hot assed mess and makes me glad I no longer live in Atlanta. Kandi: “I reveal too much about myself.” Yes, honey. You do. Gworl, could you PLEASE get laid?
Kim and Kroy’s Fine Ass and Kroy, Jr. are ready to go home. Aw, how special. Kim can’t believe he’s here. Brioche doesn’t look happy. Neither is that ugly-assed dog. Is it time for a commercial, yet? I really hope it’s time for a commercial.
Cynthia. Oh, Cynthia. She’s hanging out with Sheree—-psych! No, she’s hanging out with NeNe, of course. They go to some boutique to “shop.” Kandi’s stupid radio show comes up, and Cynthia brings up Irrelevant Football Player and the Concubine. NeNe notes that she never slept with IFP, but Cynthia’s Dumb Ass claims to like the Concubine and thinks that NeNe will like her too. NeNe pooh-poohs that with extreme pooh-poohage.
Sheree rolls up in her
Aston-Martin Porsche. Phaedra thinks it’s not so smart to be rolling in a rented Porsche when you’re trying to get money from your afflicted ex. Phaedra also has to counsel this idiot about what to wear. You clearly can’t roll in court wearing D&G and Louboutins. Did I spell the name of those shoes correctly? I could check, but I clearly don’t give a flying fuck. I wear shoes whose names you can fucking spell…and afford. Anyway, Sheree’s an idiot, because she doesn’t see what the big deal is. Bitch, you’re trying to get money! You’re supposed to look a little broke down. God. Anyway, Sheree’s got a big ass. Phaedra thinks she should save the phat ass for the club. She’s also positive they’ll be fine. FORESHADOWING…
Kandi is meeting some woman to talk about her sex toy line of sex. That’s really all that can be said about this. To borrow from Evil Willow, “Bored now.”
Kim’s feeding KJ. Brioche lets loose a sneeze full of deadly pathogens. This infuriates Kim, who interrogates Brioche about her plans on being a good sister. Apparently, she attacked The Other One with a spork. Sweetie the Assistant washes Kim’s harem of wigs, while Kim wishes for Kroy’s Fine Ass to return and restore masculine order to this den of female unruliness.
Phaedra arrives at work. Steven gives her a cup. He is apparently on his job. Good for Steven! Latoya tells Phaedra that she went to get the check from Sheree…but she ain’t have the check. The $5,000 retainer check. Phaedra notes that Sheree has had some…issues…with paying attorneys. Don’t phuck with Phaedra’s phunds. Wasn’t that phunny? Anyway, Brandon arrives—WHO IS BRANDON?—with the check.
DAY OF JUDGMENT!
Sheree is in her apartment—wait? Wasn’t she in a house last season? Anyway, the emotions overcome her. Phaedra, now fully paid, calls. She says that Sheree is on the winning side—FORESHADOWING!!—but Sheree says she doesn’t have the energy. Phaedra has to pep talk her. I wonder if that’s coming out of the retainer. “Today is going to be one of the easiest days you’ve ever had.” FORESHADOWING!!!!
Elsewhere, on this Day of Judgment, Kim’s weird ass parents show up to see the baby. Kim’s dad begins attempts to socialize the baby to it’s allegedly appropriate gender. Kroy’s Fine Ass has a goatee going on. Skippy likey. Brioche does not cotton to the idea of changing that boy’s diapers. Ariellanala likes changing diapers, but Brioche just wants to text her friends and go shopping and talk about boys.
Mama Thelma shows up to support Sheree on her Day of Judgment. Sheree believes that Bob thinks he’s above the law. Well, he must be confident, since he’s representing himself. Phaedra thinks that that’s smart, as well as coming to court looking “a hot mess.” Bob hands the judge a petition for contempt. Phaedra hasn’t been served with a copy of that motion—RUH-ROH! The proceedings have been moved to September 1st. He is claiming that Sheree took furniture granted to him in the divorce, but Phaedra notes that it is a delaying tactic. He sticks his tongue out and then ambles out of the court, displaying to all the world that he is an immature nimrod. Mazel ton!
Well, after that debacle, Kandi, Phaedra and Sheree meet at a restaurant. They all act like they ain’t seen each other in a month of Sundays. They talk about the case and the contempt motion. Phaedra notes he’s filing motions willy-nilly. Sheree sourly notes that they were supposed to file a contempt motion as well. Phaedra is ticked that Sheree is critiquing her strategy. “No, ma’am,” says Phaedra. Sheree interviews that Phaedra was outsmarted by an ex-football player who represented himself in court. Kandi sympathizes; the court system in Atlanta apparently sucks ass, and both Kandi and Sheree cry. I think I hear Mary J. Blige in the background. Y’know, watching this show makes me thank various deities that I am a homosexual.
Three Wigs and a Baby December 12, 2011Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last Time: Kim? Still pregnant. NeNe? Still separated. Cynthia? Still modeling. Sheree? Still divorced. Phaedra? Still lawyering. Everyone’s the same hot mess they were the week before.
Kim and Kroy’s Fine Ass trundle off to the hospital. I still don’t get why she has a personal assistant. Dr. Hood tells Kim that she’s got preeclampsia and they’re sending her to the hospital. Kim notes that her last delivery was pretty rough. Kroy’s Fine Ass clearly has never dealt with a pregnant woman before, because they start arguing. He really needs to be “Honey, whatever you want. I’m here for you.”
Cynthia is packing for a New York trip and NeNe’s coming along. That really makes Papa Smurf happy. Anyway, she’s going to meet Russell Simmons and claims that back in the day, she dated him. Mm hm.
Fig. 1: You never miss your water, right, Cynthia?
Sheree is still pretending to be building an 8,000 square foot house. She’s now enlisted her mother in this charade and is using this cleared lot as a backdrop for her telling her mother about her ex-husband’s chicanery. Mama Thelma tells Sheree that she had to take her ex-husband’s sorry ass to court too. Fun times!
Cynthia claims she wants to be financially independent and can’t have her fledgling modeling agency fail. Why doesn’t she contact Tyra? Anyway, Cynthia wants NeNe to tell her why she’s up here in NYC. She’s going to meet a “business partner.” She also thinks that this “business partner” wants some other business. Cynthia is going to have lunch with Russell. She claims he proposed to her when she was 18. Clearly, this was well before Kimora.
Fig. 2: Cynthia, U MAD?
Phaedra calls a client and tells him to get his ass to court. Client Dave shows up late. He looks stupid as hell. His charge? Excessive window tint…and possession of marijuana. He’s got priors, so Judge Freeman is going to come down hard; he has no tolerance for drugs—but he’s got tolerance for cameras! Since he “knows” Phaedra, he’s going to sentence Client Dave to a somewhat hefty fine. Can you just smell the Judge Freeman television show? Oh, by the by, Client Dave pays Phaedra…IN CASH. Ok, that’s some shady shit that just got shown on television. Phaedra. Honey. We need to talk. Is accepting drug money kosher in the legal profession?
Cynthia meets Russell. Why does he wear those hideous baseball caps? Anyway, they chat about the past. He cheated on her back in the day, allegedly. She tells him about her useless modeling money trap and tries to pass Russell off as being the person to go to about models. Right. And people go to you, Cynthia, for advice about the hip hop industry.
Kim wants Kroy’s Fine Ass to calm her down. He grins stupidly. He finally begins to understand his role. The nurse asks her “Are you going to wear that wig during delivery?” They get ready for the epidural and Kim hopes that it works this time.
Oh, hai, Kandi! Mama Joyce ain’t pissed anymore, because she’s visiting Kandi to get photos taken for a seniors dating site. Kandi decides it’s time to break out the girdle. Mama Joyce tells Kandi she looks like a drag queen. I like Mama Joyce.
Sheree goes…home? Where the fuck is this? Anyway, she’s been served! Douchebag Bob wants to modify child support, prompting Sheree to call Mama Thelma and have a totally non-private conversation about how awful Douchebag Bob is in front of Kairo, who is playing video games. She makes him a sandwich…ain’t he old enough to make a sandwich for his damn self?
Back in New York, NeNe meets John Something or other. NeNe says he’s good at starting businesses. She and John have come up with an idea for a lounge—the Lenethia Lounge. How about just Lenethia? Anyway, NeNe hopes that John Something Or Other sticks to business. This is some boring ass shit. Does anyone think that this guy is anything other than a flaming homosexual? Oh, just me then?
Cynthia struts her ass down an oddly empty New York street to meet the formerly fat fuck who helped plan her wedding. They talk about how awesome NYC is and how Podunk Atlanta is. People are materialistic in Atlanta but totes down to earth in NYC. Who knew? They have more boring conversation. I am convinced that Cynthia is the kind of person who needs to have people constantly tell her that she’s the most awesomest person in the world.
Kim still ain’t passed that new baby yet. The reality of a new humanoid begins to sink in in Kroy’s Fine Ass. Too late to run now, Kroy’s Fine Ass! During the commercial break, Kim had the baby. Kroy’s Fine Ass and Kim recount the emotional emotionalism of emotionally having an emotional baby. Kroy Jr. is here. We then get a Bravo recap of their…um, romance? Kim claims to feel complete, now that she has this new baby. Yeah, fuck those other two kids.
Rick Perry: Wrong December 8, 2011Posted by Skippy in Politics, Rants.
Tags: blights upon humanity, FAIL!, foolishness, hot ass mess, idiots, white privilege
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As his campaign for the GOP presidential nomination continues its spiral into irrelevancy, Texas governor and Ronald Reagan-wannabe Rick Perry decided to release a campaign ad that seems more like something the Onion would create as a parody:
Fig. 1: WHAAAAT?!?
Just in case your brain went all explodey from the stupid and you missed the arglebargle spewing forth from his fool mouth, here’s a helpful transcript:
“I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a Christian, but you don’t need to be in the pew every Sunday to know there’s something wrong in this country when gays can serve openly in the military but our kids can’t openly celebrate Christmas or pray in school. As President, I’ll end Obama’s war on religion. And I’ll fight against liberal attacks on our religious heritage. Faith made America strong. It can make her strong again.”
Okay, let’s take this apart, shall we?
“I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a Christian…”
Unlike those other Republicans who are so ashamed to let anyone know they claim to worship the same imaginary, infanticidal, pestilential sky god!
“…but you don’t need to be in the pew every Sunday to know there’s something wrong in this country when gays can serve openly in the military but our kids can’t openly celebrate Christmas or pray in school.”
Hey apple! Let’s compare you to orange! And while I’m at it, why don’t I imply something’s wrong with you? Ok, Rick, let’s help you understand a couple of things, since you’re, well, a fucking idiot:
* What the fuck is wrong with gays serving openly in the military? Oh, that’s right, you’re a fucking idiot.
* Kids can pray their stupid little brains out in school. They just can’t inveigle anyone else to or have the public school system endorse their particular parent-imposed delusion.
* Kids can also “openly celebrate Christmas.” But you’re a fucking idiot, so you probably missed that point.
“As President, I’ll end Obama’s war on religion.”
I’m sorry, but when did President Obama declare a war on religion? Did that happen during the Inauguration, when fat fuck Rick Warren was invited to give a prayer?
“And I’ll fight against liberal attacks on our religious heritage.”
Dude, seriously. What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a parody?
“Faith made America strong. It can make her strong again.”
I have faith that America won’t allow such a bottom-feeding dumbfuck such as yourself to be within a light-year of the presidency.
Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Whine Bar” December 5, 2011Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last Time: Papa Smurf is opening another bar and writing checks, Kim and Kroy’s Fine Ass are gonna have a baby, and Phaedra ruins a tacky birthday party with a tacky male stripper. Kandi’s mother is not pleased.
We begin with Kandi at her boutique. Phaedra brings cake as an apology for that tacky ass male stripper. She needs to apologize to Mama Joyce. These bitches must be some of the most sex-deprived heffas in the world, because all they can talk about is the tacky ass male stripper and his penis. Speaking of tacky, they then bitch about NeNe and then Papa Smurf.
Cynthia is at some fashion show. I already don’t care. Cynthia is emceeing it and Phaedra and Hot Piece of Ass show up…as does Lawrence, still trying to evoke the Thunderdome. This time, he’s wearing a sparkly shirt and an ear-to-ear chain. It looks stupid. Anyway, Cynthia can’t do public speaking to save her damn life. It is a festival of fail. Phaedra: “You want to look at models, not hear them.”
Anyway, the drama begins when some football player and his concubine stroll in. Phaedra drops some gossip by saying that NeNe might have cheated on Gregg with this football player. Phaedra lies and says she ain’t one to gossip. Neither is Bonita Butrell.
Fig. 1: Phaedra takes her cues from this woman.
Cynthia and Evil Mom and Sister meet at the Bailey Non-Agency. Maleficent has a sour puss like nobody’s business, but then who wouldn’t if Cynthia was their sister? She and Cynthia get right into it. Evil Mom is all “Y’all still at it? Ugh.” Cynthia goes straight for the weak spot by invoking Maleficent’s possible marriage problems. Evil Mom wants to know when Bar One is going to open. Cynthia says that there are investor problems and Maleficent is all “Here we fucking go again.” She starts crying. “You promised. You said you’d never go back to being broke.” Gurl. Let Cynthia do Cynthia. If she’s gonna be stupid, that’s on her. I’m really rooting for Maleficent.
Sheree is playing soccer with her chil’ren. Lovely. Ah, but enter Bob Whitfield, ex-husband. It’s a rare occurrence for him to actually give a shit about his family. Apparently, it was an ugly divorce. Well, Bob himself is ugly as ten hells. Did he get hit a LOT? I mean, damn. He isn’t just ugly. He’s EXTRA ugly. Sheree badgers him about child support and doesn’t believe him saying that he doesn’t have it. Gurl. Take his fugly ass to court and be done with him. He says, “Do it!” She says she’s put it off for four years, and Bob says he ain’t paying her nothing—at which point, Sheree throws some water on him and sashays away. Does she think she’s Angela Bassett in “Waiting To Exhale”? I bet she does.
Fig. 2: There can be only one Angela Bassett.
Oh, hai, Kim! She’s got two weeks to go before delivering the Love Child. She talks to Briellla or Brunhilda or Brioche or whatever the fuck her oldest daughter’s name is. They really have an ugly dog. Their conversation doesn’t interest me; it’s just that boring.
Anyway, back to Cynthia and her travails with Papa Smurf. Bar One is totally in the ‘hood. They try to pretend it ain’t, but it absolutely is. Anyway, Cynthia tries to pass off the fiction that NeNe is a “huge celebrity.” Well, she is huge. But a celebrity? No. Bar One is not done—it looks like a hot mess, yet Papa Smurf wants to have a “preview” and that NeNe, Huge Celebrity, will be there to schmooze. Cynthia asks about Papa Smurf’s investors, to which Papa Smurf replies, “I’m a man’s man.”
What the fuck does that have to do with anything?
Whatever. Shut the fuck up, Papa Smurf. Cynthia says she can’t be a full partner in this new enterprise. Papa Smurf ensures that Evil Mom and Sister don’t show up to ruin Bar One’s preview of tackyness.
Sheree meets with Phaedra to discuss her legal options. Billable hours! Sheree is indeed upset about this predicament. Phaedra tries to activate her emotion chip.
Kandi decides to visit Mama Joyce, who is still salty about the Ridickulous Fiesta. Kandi apologizes. Mama Joyce reads Kandi but good. “I might be your homegirl, but I’m your mother, first.” Wisdom from Mama Joyce. But damn if she doesn’t seem like the kind of person who can hold a grudge.
This gathering at Bar One just looks foolish. People are milling about and shit ain’t done, and the AC isn’t working. Cynthia shows up looking like Brokeahantas. Football Dude and Concubine are there, thus ensuring that drama is on its way. Lawrence and Sheree drive, looking for Bar One; he calls it Bar None. Sheree: “Who has a party in Atlanta on a hot summer night with no air conditioning?” Phaedra: “Bar One will be successful; ‘cause hood folks gotta drink too.” Anyway, Cynthia wants to know how he got money to “finish” Bar One. I guess we’ll find out in the gossip blogs.
But where’s NeNe? She’s the co-host? DRAMA. Anyway, Papa Smurf unveils a picture of Cynthia in a photoshopped afro wig. It’s as tacky as that pitiful bar. NeNe texts that she has had a wardrobe malfunction, but the implication is that she’s avoiding Football Player and Concubine. So then Football Player adds to the drama by talking to the cackling hens. He is so irrelevant.
But where’s NeNe? LATE. Oooh, DRAMA! She swans around like she was there on time, the whole time. Football Player stokes bullshit, but NeNe says that everything you heard about this Charles Grant is a lie. As if I cared.
Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Jewels Be Dangled” November 28, 2011Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last time: NeNe is rich, Sheree is jealous and building a big assed house, Peter is pissed at Cynthia’s fam, and then starts shit with Apollo. Everyone is still crazy as hell.
We begin our excursion into crazy town with Phaedra visiting Kim in the aftermath of the Baby Shower of Doom. Phaedra tries to sell Kim some bullshit about everyone being on their best behavior, but Kim visually cuts her off with an eyeroll. Phaedra obliquely apologizes for HPoAs behavior, and then they talk shit about Papa Smurf’s cheapness, lateness and overall stupidity. And then they talk about baby stuff. Fun!
More fun is had when we switch to Cynthia and Evil Sister Malorie visiting Papa Smurf’s new hangout, Bar One. Cynthia says that she wants them to talk. Papa Smurf says “Wowww,” which is old man speak for “I don’t really want to talk to this bitch, but you won’t give me nookie if I don’t.” He takes them around Bar One and tries to make small talk with Evil Sister. They’re both passive aggressive bitches. He asks Cynthia if he’s being forced to talk about Evil Sister and Mom’s attempt to sabotage the wedding. They talk awkwardly. Again, both of them are passive aggressive bitches. Evil Sister claims that Cynthia is her business—and then the bitchy claws come out on both sides. “All you’re thinking about is yourself!” Papa Smurf proclaims. Then Cynthia swans in to put a kibosh on the stupidity. I don’t know what she expected to happen. Did she expect rainbows and glitter? Evil Sister Malorie realizes that she’s a bitter spinster bitch from hell…oh, wait. She totally doesn’t.
Anyway, Kandi rolls up in a fly Benz and entirely too tight pants. Honey, stop it. She’s throwing a 35th birthday party, so she and Phaedra and Sheree check out a Midtown hotel to serve as the venue for the party. They try to justify this extravagance as a “mid-milestone” party. Whatever helps y’all sleep at night. Kandi says she invited NeNe and Family Old Fart, to Sheree and Phaedra’s chagrin, respectively. Kandi leaves so Phaedra can tell Sheree that she’s got a special gift for her. I wonder what could it be. I wonder. Could it be something having to do with men and sex and sex and men? The million promos for this episode were so vague.
It’s now time for NeNe to hang out with Kandi and Derek, the geigh apparent. They chit and chat about her party…and Kim. NeNe: “I think that Kandi genuinely wanted a friendship, and I think that Kim wanted a song—a hit song.” Anyway, they then turn to Kroy’s Fine Ass, to which NeNe says, “That ain’t about shit.” Kandi tells NeNe that Sheree and Phaedra will be at this party. Derek, geigh apparent, foolishly thinks that friendships could be rekindled. He’s still new to this Real Housewives thing. He will learn.
Back at Casa De Kim, she and Kroy’s Fine Ass meet with a “baby consultant.” She doesn’t know what to do with a male child. They discuss circumcision and she acts like she doesn’t know shit about it—bitch, YOU’RE A NURSE. Yes, I’m shouting. Didn’t her ass learn about such things in nursing school? Anyway, Kim doesn’t want her male child “with a turtleneck” around his penis. Foolishness.
NeNe goes to visit Cynthia—didn’t they just hang out? Anyway, Papa Smurf is talking to an “investor” who passed off a bad $40,000 check. Ok, I don’t give a shit about NeNe and Cynthia’s shit right now. Who the fuck passes off a BAD $40,000 CHECK?!?
NeNe mentions that she and Gregg had sex. All righty then! They then talk about Evil Sister Malorie and the wedding foolishness. NeNe interviews that Cynthia needs to set boundaries. She also needs to grow the fuck up. Anyway, Papa Smurf’s phone rings, marking his timely exit from this scene.
At Sheree’s construction site, she is irritated with the lack of progress on her new house. Phaedra notes that contractors are full of shit, so she puts Andrew the Contractor on notice. Andrew the Contractor says that once obstacles are cleared, the house will go up quickly—that always inspires confidence. They engage in ridiculous sexism and then get back to talking about this stupid house. This is just plain stupid.
Anyway, at Cynthia’s fledgling modeling agency, Evil Sister Malorie shows up…with her basketball playing husband! I thought she was a bitter, single spinster! Where the hell did he come from? Oh, France. He plays b-ball in France. Cynthia inveigles Malorie to be her receptionist. She’s really enthused about this—except that she’s totally not. Malorie, why don’t you and your husband Chris just expatriate and leave this dumb assed supermodel to her sad, self-deluded life? Evil Sister tries to counsel Cynthia…but then Cynthia turns into Evil Sister and totally goes there. She hints broadly that Mal is having marital issues. Oh, no she di’int! Cynthia says she and her sister never fight, which I don’t believe for a second. They have some serious envy issues going on.
It’s Kandi’s birfday! Go Kandi, it’s your birthday! Don Juan sits and watches Kandi get way too much eyeshadow put on. Kandi wants a man. She says that if she ain’t got a man by 37, she’s going to a sperm bank. Doesn’t she already have a kid? Why does she need another one? Phaedra is looking rather decent. Kandi, however, is wearing a fuschia dress. It’s too short, too tight, too bright. It’s hideous. Speaking of hideous, Lawrence shows up looking like the Thunderdome. Derek looks presentable, which means he will always be the geigh apparent—we don’t need another hero, Derek. Sheree shows up, looking like she just came from the gym. All the women show up, and soon sequester themselves into their camps. Phaedra: “It seems like it was two sects: the Crips and the Bloods.” Kandi calls the two groups “the United States” and “Europe.” There are two white people in the background who are all, “What the hell is happening and how did we get invited to this? What is this anyway?” So Phaedra unveils her present…
Fig. 1: Happy Birthday! Here’s your present, a tacky, oily stripper!
He looks hideous, but his name is Ridickulous. Apparently, he can suck his own penis. Well, good for him. Kandi’s mama is NOT pleased. Frankly, no one is really pleased with Ridickulous. Kandi’s mama: “That’s fucked up! I don’t like no damn strippers—I ain’t never liked no damn strippers!” People start rolling out of the party. Well. I am not opposed to strippers, but if you’re going to have strippers, please, PLEASE make sure the stripper has a modicum of class and for the love of all that’s sensible, make sure he DOESN’T dip his penis into your drink. Keep it classy, people.
Fig. 2: When a guest has this expression on their face, please tell the stripper to leave. It’s just courtesy.
Really, Phaedra, Kandi and Sheree are the only people enjoying the stripper. Kandi’s Mama is for real pissed. She goes straight OFF: “That wasn’t cool at all! That was very degrading; this wasn’t the place for that!” Happy 35th birthday, Kandi!