The Real Housewives Of Atlanta: Girl, There Ain’t No Excuse For Excuses. Grab A Drink And Make A Face…It’s On Like Donkey Booty Kong.

 

All I know is that my fancy a** hat is on straighter than that rug you’re wearing.

 

 

 

 

Five episodes into this season, and yes…I’m still very rich, bitch.

 

 

 

Lord, give me the strength to not kill this heffer before Glee Regionals.

 

 

 

I’m pretty sure one of my marbles just fell on the floor.

 

 

 

 

Pleez. I’ll give that Apollo one Giant Leap For Mankind.

 

 

 

Hosea Feed The Hungry? I thought it was for Tommy Hilfiger hosiery.

 

 

 

 

Beyoncé sez if you like it, then you better put a damn p**** ring on it.

 

 

Girl, pleez.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.  I don’t wanna hear any excuses as to why you can’t read my recap of The Real Housewives of Atlanta, because this week’s episode already had enough sob stories and WTF faces without your drama, thank you.

So grab a cocktail, sit your donkey booty down and let’s dish.  ATL style.

The whole thing started out with a big mouthful of pizza as Kim shoveled down a few slices with daughters Brielle and Ariana.  After an exhausting few days of watching Sweetie do all the heavy lifting after re-relocating back to their old townhouse, Kim figured she would take the girls to a little outdoor pizzeria for some quality Mom Time.

First off…chew and then talk.  Or talk and then chew.  Seriously.

Did you see the three of them chowing down?  I had a Honey Boo Boo flashback.

Since Kroy was currently off at Training Camp and couldn’t be harassed while trying to eat his Sugar Smacks, and Kim pretty much refused to be filmed with any of the other women this season, you kind of get what you get with her scenes.

During their verbal food fight, we learned that one girl was a planned pregnancy and the other one just kind of popped out one day when Mom was 19 years old.  We also learned that all of that Don’t Be Tardy For The Wedding dramz must still be going on in the court system somewhere, because Kim didn’t have anything nice to say about her own Mom when the subject came up between chomps.

We even learned (…again…) that Kim was hot and cranky and pregnant, since she never gets to say that enough, right?

And most importantly we learned that I can never remember which kid is which, and that we all could have probably done without that whole scene altogether.

I’d like those 5 minutes back, please.  Love me some Kim, but she’s way more fun when someone is pulling on her wig.

Down the road a bit, Doctor of Donkology Phaedra and her BoyToy Apollo were waiting to meet up with newbie Kenya and her boyfriend.  Miss Phaedra was determined to move forward and create the universe’s first-ever non-sweaty Donkey Booty Workout DVD, and was obviously hoping to get a few comped hours with Kenya’s production company.

I’m not certain if it was the hot Atlanta sun beating down on them or what, but as soon as Kenya and Walter showed up outside the predetermined Go Kart Land meeting spot and she laid her eyes on all that Apollo ManCandy, her own radiator overheated all over the track.  Yeah, she was dripping some serious oil.

MmmMmm.  That Apollo is so fine.  Kenya like.  Kenya really like.

As Phaedra introduced herself to Walter, whom she vaguely remembered from one of her numerous 100 Black Men interactions (…insert your own joke here…) Kenya was checking out Apollo in his Puff Daddy shades and ripply muscled shirt.

As far as our weekly RHOA Drinking Game goes, if you were taking shots every time Phaedra made a PhaedraFace it’s a safe bet that you probably missed anything that came after this scene.  I think this one broke the all-time Bravo record for PhaedraFace sightings.

Kenya couldn’t get over Apollo’s veiny muscles, which she apparently was able to see through the fabric of his long sleeved shirt utilizing some kind of ultra-secret Miss USA super-powered x-ray vision.

Phaedra’s plan for the video was to utilize items found around the home and incorporate them into the butt burning exercises.  It was also pretty clear that she would have no problem slamming that same 2 pound jug of milk into the side of Kenya’s head if she got any closer to her man’s junk.

Luckily, they all hit the Go Karts before Kenya actually mounted Apollo.  Miss Phaedra better keep her scrunched up eyeballs on that one, mmmkay?

Next we popped the cork on a $200 bottle of wine over a Cynthia‘s.  NeNe and horny tagalong Gregg were on their way over, and NeNe’s rich now.  So that calls for the good stuff.

Except the wine had gone bad.  Two hundred dollah bad.

Which was just one more reason to stick with a wine box and some cheese balls.  NeNe’s gonna be dinking around on her cell phone the whole time anyway…she’ll never even look up to notice.

This year’s required Bravo Trip was planned for Anguilla because Peter was in tight with the person who does PR for the island.  The whole island.  That is either one big a** job, or a pretty tiny piece of land.  But either way, all the girls had juggled their hectic schedules and finally set a date.  And this time Boys were allowed.

The plan was to get some sun, get some relaxation and to get some…period.  Because you know how Boys are when they go on vacation.

Peter had a secret plan to renew his vows with Cynthia (…this time with tropical birds instead of a gigantic T-Rex skeleton.  Remember that museum wedding?…) and Gregg had plans to bloop NeNe until her earrings fell off.

That pretty much sums it all up.

Newbie #2 Porsha and her husband Kordell were up next as they dropped by the clinic for a quick ultrasound.

Just when I thought we were finally going to make it through one whole RHOA episode with no Coochie Crack, we ended up on the Coochie Crack Mothership.

Coochie Crack pictures on the counter.  Coochie Crack posters on the walls.  Coochie Crack brochures.  Even a Coochie Crack ultrasound TV screen that kind of looked like what the Star Trek bridge used to see right before they were sucked into a wormhole.

I’m giving it all I’ve got, Captain.

Earlier in the year Porsha had miscarried, and she was back for her 6 month check under the hood to see how much longer the couple needed to wait before trying for another baby.  As we’ve already learned, both Porsha and Kenya are on Baby Watch…and time’s a’wasting, people.

Luckily, they only had to hold off one more month before getting back to baby making.

And according to Porsha’s iPhone research, that meant it was time to stock up on canned yams, because yams make you have two babies at once.

I really need to start reading labels more closely before I make dinner on date nights.

Even though she is jaw-droppingly ditzy, it’s nice that Porsha is still able to have another child if she really wants one.  Or two.

Popeye came into the examination room and said I” Yam What I Yam” and then we were all off to the Hosea Williams Foundation House for a meeting with NeNe and Cynthia.

From the start it was pretty clear that the Foundation definitely spends all the money they raise on food and supplies to feed the hungry and not on furniture, because the place was empty.  Literally.  Just a couple of chairs and a bookcase.  NeNe’s red bottoms echoed like a scary movie.

At first I thought they had been robbed, but Porsha seemed in a pretty good mood, so I guess it’s just the look they were going for.  Regardless, she had set up a meeting with Cynthia and NeNe to see if they would be willing to shoot some PSAs for the Foundation and gossip about how Kenya had popped off at the last benefit gala.

Porsha explained that feeding the hungry was not just a Thanksgiving project, but something that needed to happen 265 days a year.

Because apparently, no one goes hungry for the other 100 days.

Gah.  There has to be a gas leak at the Stewart house that no one has capped yet.

And then it was time to whip out the credit cards and pop in the kegel balls, because Kandi and Phaedra were going shopping.

Hitting up one of those little gifty type shops inside a normal house where everything either has a bow or a sea shell hot glued to it, Phaedra was all excited that Kandi had brought her a present from the newly released Bedroom Kandi line of nasty toys.

Girlfriend was X-cited.

Seriously.  I think the last time I saw anyone get this excited over a toy was when the new Star Wars came out and you could buy Darth Vader with a removable helmet.

Freak Out with your Geek Out.

Miss Phaedra had her heart set on a noodle ring for Apollo, but all Kandi brought her was a box o’ balls.  Kegel balls.

Google it.  I’m all Coochied out.

Kandi even had her set all up in there somewhere, just to prove that you could drive stick and not shoot out your windshield like a BB gun.

At some point in their retail excursion, Phaedra got all gospel and fiercely asked WWJD? (…What Would Jesus Do?…) and Kandi made a sound that reminded me of when you first break a rack on a pool table.

I’m pretty sure the salesgirl at the register took a PTO day after those two left the shop.

I might not even go to work tomorrow.

Then finally, it was time for all the girls to get together and nail down the deetz on their Anguilla trip.

Cynthia and Phaedra arrived at the restaurant first, where Miss Parks presented Miss Bailey with a massive floral arrangement to apologize for getting caught last week talking smack on NeNe’s voicemail.

This thing was massive.  Like David Tutera My Fair Wedding massive.  I honestly expected it to be delivered to the table with a fog machine.  Or at least with someone on a trapeze.

Cynthia deleted the message and the two of them agreed to move forward just as everyone else pulled up to the curb.  Even über preggo Kim made an appearance.

The trip was planned for the following week, and had been scheduled around Kim’s due date.  Everyone had rescheduled their busy lives.  Glee stuff.  Macy’s stuff.  Trial stuff.

Even Kenya, who wasn’t even invited, had apparently rescheduled stuff and somehow managed to invite herself along before the appetizers even arrived.  I guess it’s a good thing she had already cleared her calendar.

Cynthia asked if everyone was on board and ready to go.

And then it all hit the fan.

The only thing Kim likes more than naming her wigs, is coming up with excuses.

She wasn’t sure if she could go on the trip now.  Her due date had been changed.  Her Coochie Crack (…again with the CC?…) had shortened.

It would have been nice right about now if Bravo TV had run a scroll across the bottom of the screen telling us to all grab our calculators, because Kim was about to do some seriously F***d up math.

She was 28 weeks pregnant.  And then she was 30.  And then she was 8 months pregnant and couldn’t leave the country.  And then she had 2 months left before she delivered.

By my calculations she will either give birth to a bouncing baby or a Harvard graduate.

Plus, she and Kroy were already going on a trip next week.  Say wha—?!

NeNe flipped out.  Kandi got mad.  Phaedra unleashed a couple of never before seen PhaeadraFaces, which only made her slightly askew church hat that much more pleasing to the eye.

Cynthia got frustrated.  Kenya started moving her s*** into Kim’s Bravo dressing room.

And then Kim just lost it.  Baby Hormone lost it.  That kind.

After either yanking out her microphone or squeezing her boob, she pulled a major Teresa Giudice and said she was done.  Done with all this.  DONE.

Unfortunately, her baby belly didn’t allow her to get close enough to the table to actually flip it over, which I found quite disappointing, but she did manage a pretty good nutty for a pregnant woman.

And then she was gone.  Shoving camera men and pedestrians to get back to her vehicle.  Somehow Kroy even came to her rescue.  No clue where he came from, but I’m going to assume that he was sitting in the car the whole time like a hired valet.

Then it was nothing but chaos and (bleeps) and swinging microphone booms and more (bleeps) and Kroy all up in the lens going full on football cray cray and making the camera fuzz out like Porsha’s ultrasound.

Zolciak out, bitches.

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