The Real Housewives of Atlanta recap: ‘Rocky Boat Horror Story’
November 30, 2015 - fall Denim
Before we get to You Know What, let me only tell we how this part of The Real Housewives of Atlanta started: It called into doubt a renouned thought that a establishment of matrimony validates a woman’s value within a congenital society; and it strew some light on a onslaught of many women out there who adore their children though feel like their investment in motherhood has caused them to tumble out of hold with who they are as individuals.
I’m not kidding, we guys — those are real-ass topics that were quickly overwhelmed on in this fake-ass show.
But don’t worry: The hour finished with one dipsomaniac lady about to lay hands on another lady in a bikini tip from a Old Navy toddler section, so all is still right in a World That Andy Cohen Built. And do we wish to know why? Because these people simply can't keep themselves off of boats, notwithstanding a consistent dangers a nautical life brings them. Can’t they see — a leisure of a sea is no place for them! If it’s not a follower drifting out, afterwards it’s a splash drifting in someone’s face. And if it’s not a margarita flying, afterwards it’s a witty cheering of “bitch this” and “bitch that” branch into a condescending cheering of “bitch this” and “bitch that” as a outcome of zero some-more than a shot of Hennessy and a unnoticed charge of a unwell marriage.
Actually, concerning that final bit, we theory that this vessel float hold a spirit of real-world relevance, as well. But where you or we competence have an additional potion of booze and write a pacifist assertive email during a utterly stressful time, Cynthia stranded herself during sea with 6 of her closest friends/enemies and afterwards streamlined tequila. I’m with Kim Fields: Next time, everybody only squeeze your Jodi Picoult hardback, find a loll chair, and close it a ruin up.
Speaking of Kim Fields, it seems a reason she’s subjecting herself to this stupidity is that the lady needs friends. It’s true, creation friends in adulthood is a challenge. Gone are a days of common dorm halls and childish foolishness — enter discerning chats during carpool and depletion following dinner, baths, and bedtime. Signing onto a existence uncover to make a few friends isn’t a craziest thing I’ve ever heard…but this is: “I consider a loyalty with Phaedra could be a unequivocally good start.”
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Kim goes over to Phaedra’s residence to let her darling sons play with Phaedra’s darling sons in a pool, finish with lifeguard. They have a good plead that ends adult being utterly cathartic for Kim when Phaedra tries seeking her what her hobbies are, who her friends are, what she does for fun — anything that isn’t wrapped around her kids — and she can’t come adult with any answers. She cries and says she’s mislaid herself though even realizing it. Phaedra promises that they’ll have some “mommy days” and get behind on lane together, that is a unequivocally good sentiment, though a fact that Kim is wearing knee-length bedazzled denim shorts during this chat, while Phaedra is wearing a crocheted cover over a semi-thong bikini creates me consternation if this is a loyalty compare done in sky that they consider it is.
And we may have gotten a best of women-supporting-women Phaedra in that scene, though before to it came this feminism minefield: “Everyone knows that group are hunters and ladies are their prey. But we can’t hunt if a chase is sitting there watchful to be caught, fibbing on a bed in her socks.” we have no thought what that means — sounds like a “get a divert for free” conditions — though it’s pronounced while Phaedra accompanies Porsha to a sex emporium so Porsha can “find something lovable for FaceTime” with Duke… I wish I didn’t know what that meant, though refinement has never been Porsha’s clever fit (remember when she got an on-air colon clean final week?), and a whole theatre gets a large “NO THANK YOU” from me…
What it leads to is pristine gold, though: a constructed theatre where Porsha prances around her middle-of-nowhere palace in a new “diamond bra” that she bought, watchful on Duke to call her, and when no call comes, she calls Phaedra to plead how maybe this Duke thing isn’t going to work out. Enter my Theory-That-Isn’t-a-Theory-Because-It’s-the-Stone-Cold-Truth Theory of a Week: That male done a hard exit theatre right following Porsha’s creepy subterraneous celebration for him, and they indispensable a theatre to make it seem like a dual of them pennyless up. This ostensible FaceTime devise with Dukey positively never existed. (Oh, did we not discuss that Porsha’s nickname for Duke is Dukey? Say that one out shrill and afterwards ask me again because this attribute competence not have worked out.)
Also, Kenya walks down a sidewalk-less highway to Sheree’s residence in a name of a story line. They make a gamble about that one of them will be in their residence by Christmas; a stakes are unclear, though we consider we can all determine that everybody will be a crook here.
NEXT: They’re on a boat…