DanThat'sCool!

 

 

 

You Never Give Me Your Money.

 

 

 

Cause Money Can’t Buy Me Love.

 

 

 

 

She Works Hard For The Money.

 

 

 

 

Lawd, These Bitches Be Whacked.

 

 

 

And what did we learn tonight, boys & girls?

We learned that being one of The Real Housewives of Atlanta requires a lot of time in the makeup chair, a lot of parties and a lot of money.

Especially the money part.

And if you can’t marry into it, get it from your own personal Big Poppa or sue it out of your deadbeat Ex, then you just pray to God and He gives it to you.

That’s right.  Apparently, in Heaven they are set up for electronic fund transfers to the checking account of your choosing.

Seriously.  Or at least that’s how Marlo Hampton tried to explain it.  But let’s start at the beginning.  It’s a long one.  But a good one.

After being publicly spanked in the courtroom by her gym rat Ex Bob Whitfield, who seemed to have Googled himself a law degree in under 6 months, Sheree swings by the Law Offices of Fierce, Fiercer & Parks to let Phaedra know that she is not pleased with the Firm’s legal services up to this point.

After being introduced like Southern Debutantes meeting up for the first time at the Spring Cotillion (…”Miss Parks?  Miss Whitfield is heaahh, and her Daddy won’t be home for hours…”) they blow a few Atlanta air kisses and then get down to bidnezz.

Sheree is not at all happy that Bob was able to file his additional papers right up under Phaedra’s nose, and that after the judge made the surprise announcement all Miss Parks had to come back with was one of her squinty nosed Phaedra Faces.  Granted, they are amazing and seemingly endless…but this is  Sheree’s life we’re talking about, sistah.

Phaedra tries to wiggle around the whole thing a little bit, trying to use her snooty schooling background to assure Sheree that things went very well in court.  Sheree ain’t liking it.  And she ain’t buying it.

They also politely bickered back and forth about whether Sheree had even paid a retainer fee, then what time she paid it, what color ink was in the pen…anything to side step the real issue.

After professing how much they both love each other as friends, Phaedra suggests that she not represent Sheree in this matter.  She offers up the retainer check, which appeared to have been sitting in the top desk drawer all along.  (Seriously?  After all your squawking you didn’t even cash it?)

They hug it out without smearing any of Phaedra’s shiny lip gloss and go back to just being Besties.

Side note…Please tell me that someone else noticed the framed photo on Phaedra’s Wall of Phaedra?  ”Super Lawyer!”  For real?  What was that?  A comic book?  Is she a SuperHero on the side?  I wonder if she can fly.

Maybe Kim and Kroy could use some of Phaedra’s super powers to help them with their big move.

Cramming five people into the townhouse is driving Kim bonkers, so they are getting ready to move into their new home after they fine tune some details with Atlanta’s Hot Shot Interior Designer, Kendra.  Kastle Kim is massive, which is a good thing considering that Miss Zolciak plans on loading it up with four storage units full of Big Poppa funded merchandise, her current townhouse full of furniture, way too many individually named wigs and her own big breasts.

In typical Bravo fashion (…anyone remember Jeremiah’s design meltdowns in the middle of Rachel Zoe’s baby nursery?…) Kendra has been given less time than it takes to get to across town to get this entire thing decorated.  While Kim subconsciously mimics stabbing Kendra’s eyes out by clicking her pen over and over, Atlanta’s Hot Shot Designer hyperventilates and assures everyone that it will be fine.  Sleeping is for sissies.

Sleeping is obviously not for new Dads though, as Kroy stands in the background and tries to focus.  Even though his signature faux hawk is peaked to perfection, the rest of his face is beginning to show some signs of the realization that maybe all of this is actually happening, and it’s not just a Falcon’s head injury.  You know in the old Bugs Bunny cartoons when someone had little birds circling around their head after they stepped on a shovel?  That’s Kroy.  Except the birds all have dollar bills in their beaks as they fly away with all his money.

Switching gears for some well needed Culture, Cynthia continued her one woman campaign to finally bring some New York class back to classless Atlanta by hosting an art gallery opening.  I’m pretty certain the gallery was in a Mall, but at least it was a chance to show off some funky artwork and colorful Pixar looking animal sculptures.

It also gave NeNe a chance to enter the room with her own Call of the Wild howl as she worried about knocking over some of the sculptures.  Luckily they were only $4000 and…well, you know…she’s rich now, so she could elephant in a china shop her way through the gallery worry free.  Phaedra, Sheree and Kandi also showed up for their art lesson and free champagne.

If Cynthia failed to bring the class, at least she brought the Marlo.

Wannabe Housewife Marlo Hampton arrived, which according to Cynthia signified the Stamp of Approval from Atlanta High Society.  Now I don’t work for the Postal Service, but I’m pretty sure that Marlo is the kind of stamp that you have to pay more for if you want to lick it.

I’m also thinking that Atlanta’s High Society must shop out of RuPaul’s Drag Race work room, if you know what I mean.  Just saying.

After Marlo’s odd non-answer answer on Kandi Koated Nights that her money all came from God, Kandi really wants to get to the bottom of this fiscal mystery.  When she asks Marlo again what she meant by the whole God thing, the response is just as vague second time around.  She admits to dating some wealthy men, who gave her a monthly allowance, and then shrugs and states that God gives her what she needs to make money, which sent Phaedra into at least four never before seen Phaedra Faces.

Girrrllll….I tell you.  Girlfriend don’t even need to talk to get her point across.  Phaedra was all OhNoSheDin’tJustSayThat the second Marlo put the period on that sentence.

Miss Parks could cut you with a head tilt.

It doesn’t help that Marlo has that irritating fake smile that makes you wonder if she just applied whitening gel and it’s not completely dry yet.  She also says “I axed God for money” too much.

You might want to pick up a copy of Hooked on Phonics with some of that left over Holy spare change.

If Cynthia can’t force culture down their throats, maybe she can force booze.

She and Peter are getting prepped for a photo shoot in his new Bar One.  They are doing a Power Couple spread that will promote both of their new ventures as his bar, and her model training school, are both about ready to open to the public.

While Cynthia is getting her makeup applied by a posse of artists (…does anyone in Atlanta know how to use a mascara brush on their own..?) Peter is fretting over a spot on the white lounge couch.  Turns out that Cynthia forgot about the Post Office being closed for the holiday and her invitations for the Bailey Agency for Fashion Models & Wayward Girls will be late unless Peter stops blotting the couch and helps.

He wants her to figure it out on her own…ie, screw up and learn from your mistakes.  She wants him to call her sister and fix the problem while she sits back and gets her foundation powder to set.  His staff knows how this one will play out, and they all scurry away like cockroaches in the light.

He finally caves and leaves a bleeped out message for her sister Malorie.  She already hates him, so cussing her out on the phone is no big whoop.  Peter likes to push the envelope.  And be a Tool.  Doing them both at the same time is even better.

While Cynthia was worried about losing money, Kim was busy spending it.

It was Moving Day, and half the Atlanta Expressway had to be shut down for the caravan of trucks loaded down with Big Poppa stash.  In a warm & fuzzy montage flashback that would have been better suited for Kim is she was just eliminated off of American Idol, we got to witness all of her wig changes throughout the seasons and all the people who have been at her townhouse over the years.  It was also a great opportunity to see Daddy Zolciak’s killer porno mustache again.  Watch your back, Tom Selleck.

The only thing odder than that mustache was Kandi’s sudden interest in country music.

After pimping out Kim and HairBoy Lawrence on the dance club circuit, Kandi needs to refocus her own career.  Her last album received good reviews, but consumers forgot to buy it so she needs a jumpstart, and Country is the New Black.  If she can work with *NSYNC and design a line of sex toys, then I guess writing about tractor pulls is the next logical step.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love me some Carrie Underwood, but I’m pretty sure Carrie is not rubbing giant rubber ManJunk on her nose.  If she is, I don’t want to know about it.

But more power to Kandi.  Her Studio Boy Producer Lil’ Ronnie just worked with Scotty McReery who couldn’t be anymore opposite end of the thug hip hop spectrum, so he thinks it is a great idea.

She finds Jo Dee Messina on Skype and they make plans to get together in Nashville.  I’m thinking they’ll probably do the diner by the Grand Ole Opry, and not Condom World at the strip mall.  But whatever gets a little Mud on the Tires.

Yes, that is a real song.  Brad Paisley.  Google it.

As Kandi packs her Louboutin spurs for next week’s Nashville Roadtrip, Kim finally gets to see her new home.  Everything about the place screamed money and made me feel so far below the poverty line that I don’t even want to get into it right now.

The only thing I’ll say is that Kroy was afraid Baby KJ’s room would end up being all girly and princess, but it wasn’t.  It was total Ed Hardy/mosh pit/cross & roses Rocker Boy.

Complete with a tiny toilet that had “Potty Like A Rock Star” painted above it like one of Joe Giudice’s tee shirts.  That was classic.

The kid will be doing #1 in style, and I’ll still be poor.  So not fair.

We finished off the night with the opening of Cynthia’s Bailey Agency, but not without a little drama.

Cynthia needs to start doing her own makeup, because a lot of the drama seems to center around her time in the chair.  As she is stressing and crying, her makeup boy is trying to plug leaks that are springing out from every angle like a faulty water balloon.

She manages to pull it together and does the meet & greet at the party.  Kim and Kroy even leave KJ home peeing like Bon Jovi long enough to have a run in with Marlo, who is still trying to explain the whole money thing.

Let’s just say that you don’t want to say “Big Poppa” around Kim.  And you definitely don’t want to say it more than once.

Even calling Kandi a “Big Momma” is probably not in your best interest.

Marlo better hope that God sends some security the next time He puts money in her account.

Next time:  NeNe and Marlo and Nashville.

Y’all come back now.

 

 

And then they be all like MmmHmm Oh No She Din’t.

 

 

 

 

Of course everything is perfect.

 

 

 

 

Girrrl. You gonna poke an eye out with that Donkey.

 

 

 

 

Whatchoo talkin’ about, Willis?

 

 

 

Now I don’t know what to do.

I thought I had my new screen saver all figured out.

I was all set to let Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Sissy Dog Giggy run his now infamous hyper SpazCircle over and over on my laptop until both of us blacked out.

But that was yesterday.  Now I may have to switch to bootylicious Lawyer Phaedra Parks and her ever changing Silly Putty Face.

Miss Parks has almost as many facial contortions in her arsenal as she does snarky comeback lines, and she just unleashed most of them on the latest episode of The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

If Girl doesn’t cut you with her tongue, she’ll mess you up with her scrunchy nose and lips.  MmmHmm.  That’s rite she will.  You really wanna go there?

Phaedra started her facial workout early in the day with a visit from Sheree, who dropped by the Parks Law & Bitch Slap Offices to discuss her upcoming child support case.  It’s been four years, and Sheree has yet to see a penny from her ex-husband Bob Whitfield, the ManMountain from the NFL.

Galumping around like a T-Rex, Bob has thus far refused to help out with his kids, and Sheree is about to take him to court in order to better provide her single parent home with food and Birkin bags.  Phaedra has no patience for slacking Baby Daddies, and wants to get an immediate warrant for abandonment and toss Bob’s ‘baller butt in jail.

After representing Bobby Brown, I don’t think she should be too quick to judge.  Remember how that all played out?  Crack is whack, people.  Stay in school.

Sheree doesn’t want the public spectacle (…umm…Bravo?  National cable channel?  Reality TV show? Cameras in your house?) and would rather just meet up in court and get back some of the bank she is owed.

Sheree’s biggest concern is that Bob is a jock celebrity and the boys in the court house are going to treat him like he still mattered in the world of sports.  Phaedra’s biggest concern is billable hours.  And so it begins.

Next we go online for Kandi Koated Nights with Kandi and her horny hip hop crew.  What started out as a basement web show that appeared to have been produced for extra college credits has now been upgraded, just like that Beyonce song.  Flashier set, better lighting, bigger Mac laptop and even dirtier talk.

Kandi’s internet show, much like Kandi herself, has no filter.  No topic is off limit.  No shame.  No embarrassment.  Just please don’t let your mother walk in while it’s on the screen, because she would drop dead and you’d have guilt for the rest of your life.

Oy vey I tell you.  It’s that kind of show.

This week Kandi has Charles Grant and Marlo Hampton on as guests.  Charles is another big lug nut ‘baller who may or may not have tapped him some NeNe Leakes while she was still married to Greg.  According to NeNe it never happened.  According to the cashier at my CVS it did, because she read it in OK Magazine.

Marlo is…Marlo.  She’s a socialite and…that pretty much covers it.

In the first of multiple Atlanta Bashing Moments this week, when Charles is asked about NeNe and women who hook up with ‘ballers he states that the city is a Pretend City full of fakers and posers.  Women need to carry themselves like ladies.  Don’t be dressing up in Louboutins and then drive your booty home in a Honda Civic.  Act like a hoe..get treated like a hoe.  You heard it here first.

Digging for a little dirt on Marlo, Kandi tosses the questioning in her direction and is told that God gave Marlo a blessing, which may go down in the record books as one of the best non-answer answers ever on television.  Politicians could learn a few things from Marlo.

Kandi implies that the Blessing may have been a white Sugar Daddy, and then we move on.  Phaedra would have totally made a Poopy Phaedra Face if she was watching on her iPad.

Speaking of.  Kim and Kroy bring little KJ home from the hospital after his bleeped out, cuss filled delivery.  As previously noted, whatever brand of tape Kim uses to hold those wigs on her head should be loaned to NASA to keep shingles from falling off during Shuttle re-entry.  Anyone who can go through labor and delivery and still keep that Dolly Parton rug attached to her skull deserves an epidural.  Or two even.

Ouch. Just the thought.  Phaedra Face.

Somewhere between the baby shower and the delivery Brielle, the oldest daughter, has gone completely lazy a** spoiled teenager.  It seemed to happen during a commercial.  Granted she was always dopey and kind of lazy, and sucked on her braces like a mouth breather does during allergy season, but this week it really kicked in gear.  She won’t help with anything, and spends every scene texting on her cellphone.

Anyone who has ever caught an episode or two of The Real Housewives of New Jersey probably got an immediate flashback to spoiled brat Ashley, with just a different color iPhone case.  Bravo can sure pick ‘em.

The only family member less excited than Brielle to see the newborn was half dog/half bear cub Chanel who has apparently decided to pee on the carpet every time the new baby goes poo, just to prove a point.  Chanel is not a big fan of another cute little thing coming into the house.  I smell a Turf War.  And poo.

While everyone but Brielle is cleaning up the mess, NeNe and Cynthia are doing a little shopping, since God knows they have nothing to wear.  When Cynthia mentions the recent episode of Kandi Koated Nights, NeNe again denies that she ever knocked boots with Charles.  She also makes a gynecological reference to Hello Kitty that will forever terrorize me as I walk past that plush kiosk in the Mall.  Thanks for that.

As Sheree’s court date draws closer, she felt it was necessary to get some Silly Putty reaction to her wardrobe choices for the Big Day, so she puts on an impromptu fashion show for Miss Phaedra.

First point, I don’t think it should take a lawyer to figure out that if you are going to court begging for mo’ money you probably shouldn’t pull up to the curb in your brand new Porsche, and then climb out wearing head to toe Dolce & Gabbana.  Der.  Phaedra makes some funny faces and fills her in on court protocol.

After that discussion, I’m kind of thinking that maybe Chateau Sheree is being built on some Fantasy plot of land that only Sheree can see.

Legal mumbo jumbo aside, the other thing that Phaedra specializes in is Donkey Butt.

MmmHmm.  Girl knows booty.  Or bootay as they say in the ‘hood.  She advises Sheree to get all that junk under control before she goes in front of the judge.  Be grateful for what yo’ Momma gave you, but keep it under wraps.

Now that you mention it, I don’t remember any of the women on Perry Mason backin’ it up in front of the jury.  ”Your honor?  My homeboys tried to warn me, but that butt you got makes me so….”

Yeah.  Phaedra’s probably right on this one.

The only thing more disturbing than Sheree’s D&G Donkey Ride was Kandi dumping a box of sex toys onto the table in a diner while everyone around her was just trying to eat pie.

That’s right.  You heard me.

Kandi had tracked down the women who markets the OmiBod line of adult goodies, which synch up to your iPod and vibrate to music.  No more humming required, I guess.

As clever as the concept is, I’m not certain that pulling out all your heavy artillery in a diner is in good taste, much less up to health codes.  Maybe that wasn’t really pancake syrup that stuck to your elbow last night at IHOP after all.  When the marketing rep twists one of those badboys to ON position and lets it shimmy across the table I’m pretty sure two tourists required medical attention in the next booth.

Now I can’t shop Hello Kitty or listen to the Chipmunks Christmas song ever again.

By the time that Kandi put something that looked like a Star Trek Klingon hand up to her nose to feel it vibrate the kitchen was closed for the night.

And I don’t even want to discuss the 3 foot tall red Beaver statue that was standing guard at the front door.  Please tell me I didn’t imagine it.

After that, seeing Kim’s father mimic KJ groping her breasts during feeding time seemed pretty tame.  Creepy.  And inappropriate in front of the kids, especially with his weird porno mustache .  But pretty tame in comparison.

Aside from Dad pretending to be a perverted Mime in a box, the rest of the family visit was just baby poo and more Chanel rebellion.  They’re definitely  going to need to invest in a Stanley Steemer if this dog doesn’t change his attitude pretty soon.

Finally it’s time for court.  Sheree has her Donkey Butt under control, and Phaedra claims to have everything else under control.

Wrong.

Bob shows up looking like he just rolled out of bed and Phaedra gets ready to wipe the floor with that ‘baller.  But it seems that he was awake early enough to get a petition for contempt filed, claiming that Sheree took furniture and she owes HIM money and so on and so on.  Phaedra pops up out of her seat and doesn’t even know which face to put on, so she just gets all Say Wha–?! and then sits back down.

In less time than it took Sheree to pick an outfit, the judge kicks them out until the next hearing.

Sheree is not happy.

Phaedra makes some more faces and swears she can fix this, because she is Phaedra.

Kandi bashes Atlanta and claims the court system is rigged against women.

Even women with fine Donkey Butts.

MmmHmm.

 

 

He was one fine piece of chocolate cake. Lawd.

 

 

 

 

Girrrl…pleez. My momma don’t play dat.

 

 

 

 

That ain’t rite. She’s messed up. And her man’s a pimp.

 

 

 

 

MmmHmm. And why yes, I am still rich.

 

 

 

Lawd have mercy.

It was like someone broke into my house, set my DVR for series record and then taped pages from the Bravo Girls Manual On How To Be Fierce all over my plasma screen.

If you ever wanted a Learning Annex primer on attitude, tight clothes and snarky bitch talk, then this week’s episode of The Real Housewives of Atlanta would definitely cover the cost of admission.

Those girls can make going to the corner bakery look fierce.  Get your snacks, cuz this is gonna take awhile.

Still feeling the after effects, and lingering after taste, of Kandi’s birthday party stripper from last week, Phaedra thought it would be in her best interest to apologize for unleashing the fire hose named Redickulous on all those unsuspecting guests.

Even though the majority of the party goers had found the gravity defying ability to club himself like Bam Bam Rubble quite entertaining, Kandi’s Momma Joyce was slightly less amused and had stormed out of the event and disappeared into the darkness.  Kandi hasn’t heard from Momma since, and Phaedra was in full damage control.

And nothing says Sorry your Momma almost got her eye poked out like cake.

Phaedra drops by Kandi’s clothing store with a big ol’ wobbly cake and two forks to try and make nice for all the trouble she has caused.  And to give us all the evening’s first lesson in Fierce 101.

While discussing Momma’s reaction, NeNe’s stripper past and how delicious both the cake and Redickulous would be on their hips, Phaedra and Kandi unleash pretty much every sassy black girl catch phrase available on basic cable.

It was a non-stop buffet of MmmHmm, Girl…pleez, Oooh Child and even more MmmHmm all mixed in with some of the biggest slices of cake ever seen since that Food Network show last season.  You know that if the cameras weren’t there Phaedra would have skipped the fork.  Girl loves her sweets.  MmmHmm.

When Kandi asked the question that we have all secretly been wondering all week…if you could do what Redickulous can do, would you do what he does?…Phaedra unleashed a laugh that could only be compared to that machine the Highway Department uses to rip up the old pavement before they put down new tar on the expressway.  Thank you, Lawd for not giving her a full mouth of cake before she let that one rip.

Since we all needed some fresh air, it was outside to watch Cynthia attempt to MC a fashion show.

Attempt.

Girl needs to just stay pretty for as long as she can, because getting behind the microphone ain’t gonna pay the bills.

All the girls, including Lawrence in yet another signature high heeled, over the top metallic number (…he knows he’s a boy, right?…) were there to witness Cynthia stumble, then crash and burn on nearly every model who came down the runway.  Since the crowd had to remain silent while she bumbled through the outfits, we got a lesson in Facial Fierceness as everyone squinted, rolled their eyes and got all OhHellNo with their glossy lips.

Reading from 3×5 cards isn’t really up Cynthia’s alley, but luckily she had her trusty nervous Asian assistant to help her sound out the big words.  Tell me this guy, in his vest and spiky hair, didn’t look like every dude behind every Best Western check-in desk who gets all flustered when you’re room isn’t made up on time.  I was waiting for him to hit the Bellhop dinger after every model.

But she looked good.  And that got Apollo’s attention, even though his parole officer/wife Phaedra was sitting right next to him with a little bit of cake still on her lips.

He gave Cynthia the same kind of creepy stare the boys in Cell block G probably gave him on Day One.

After a painful fashion show, everyone gathered for cocktails and more Facial Fierceness.

No one can make sucking a tiny cocktail swizzle straw out of the corner of her mouth more demoralizing than Sheree.  She says more with one suck and an eye roll than the rest of the room put together.  Since no one is prettier, wittier or richer than Sheree…at least according to Sheree…she can bite into her straw like it’s your neck.  Watch her in action next time.  It’s like a 1920′s silent movie, but bitchier.

While Sheree is chewing straws, Phaedra introduces the gang to Charles Grant and his socialite date Marlo.  Apparently Phaedra has been going to the gym to work off all that cake and has made some new friends.

According to the rumor mills and drug store cash register gossip rags (…hey…you gotta do something while you’re waiting for the punk at CVS to ring up those Bonus Bucks…) Charles Grant is the Charles that NeNe was messing around with while her marriage was falling apart.

She says it never happened.  He says it was one date.  OK Magazine says it was for realz, girlfriend.

Sheree is going to need a lot more straws before this whole thing plays out.

Later on at The Bailey Agency, Cynthia was showing Mom and sister Malorie her new modeling business.

It was basically a chance for Malorie to do some more Peter bashing and get Cynthia all wound up about the whole Husband vs. Family thing again.  Nothing much happened, but we got a quick refresher on how Malorie isn’t digging Peter, how one of his investors just boned him on a $40,000 check right before the new club is set to open, how Mom got a sassy new haircut since the wedding and how Cynthia might cave and give her husband more money.

Then we were back outside for more fresh air.

Sheree is playing soccer with her two kids when her Ex shows up to join the game.  Bob Whitfield, best known for not paying child support and being a former NFL offensive tackle, can’t seem to hold onto his career or his bank account nowadays.

He and Sheree have a little sit down at the picnic table where it becomes pretty clear he has taken a few too many footballs to the head and also has no intentions of ever paying out any cash to Sheree.  After dissing her $15,000 handbags, Bob proudly mentions that the kids have their own bathroom when they come to visit.

I was having a hard time following some of their logic.

Bob seemed to feel that your own toilet on alternate weekends is more important that school clothes, while Sheree explained that she didn’t go after him in court because she didn’t want her children to witness, or be part of, a public spectacle.

Umm.  Did she not see that massive Bravo truck with that big TV satellite antenna?

Granted, Bob is big enough to block her line of vision…but seriously?

On national television he tells her to take him to jail and…let’s just say this isn’t going to end well.

Pregnancy has really cut down on Kim’s screen time, so we barely got a glimpse of her this week.  During the brief Mother/Daughter moment she had with Brielle, the only things we really learned were that her daughter feels the baby is going to tear the family apart, their crazy bear cub/puppy Chanel never blinks and pregnant women should NEVER wear horizontal stripes.

Please.  Never.

So now it’s almost time for Peter’s new club Bar One to open.  Even though the place doesn’t look like it could pass Code right now, he is going to have a preview party and has asked NeNe to co-host the event.

Since NeNe most likely has already legally stipulated in her Will that she is to have an open casket service so more people can look at her, it was a given that she jumped at the opportunity to be seen at Peter’s party.

She and Cynthia swing by to check out the place before NeNe gets her hair did and the scene plays out exactly as you would expect.

I don’t believe that NeNe is even physically capable of simply walking through a doorway like a normal human being.  Not NeNe.

Girls, even more important than Facial Fierceness is making an entrance.

Bar One is not even open yet, but NeNe walks in like she’s the black Bette Midler coming down a spiral staircase at Caesars Palace.

Bloop.

Don’t be hatin’, playahs.

I swear she thinks those automatic doors at Walmart were created specifically for NeNe.

She’s good to go for the event.  Or so she says.

After her soccer match, Sheree drops by Phaedra’s law office to discuss the whole child support process.  This gives Phaedra a chance to show off the photo laden shrine to herself as well as do a little client name dropping, though I’m not sure I would be bragging around town about anything to do with Bobby Brown.

(Flashback to Whitney Houston in her baggy sweats, chain smoking and watching The Bodyguard on pay-per-view.  “Bobbyyyyyyy!”)

Sheree does a little soap opera crying during which Phaedra joins in just to make sure the bitch doesn’t upstage her in her own office.  Sheree needs time to figure this all out.  Phaedra needs more cake.

Kandi on the other hand, goes cake-free to visit Momma Joyce and try to smooth things out after the birthday blow up.

Momma is still upset about having Redickulous swinging his stuff above her head, which probably explains why she ran out to get a whole new hairdo the next day.  Almost unrecognizable with her new weave, Momma can’t seem to let it go.  Kandi doesn’t understand why Momma is so upset since they are supposed to be Homegirls.  And come on…she had strippers at her baby shower and Momma was there.

Umm.  Gross.

The two of them kinda, sorta, make up and Kandi goes home to research the differences between Homegirl and Mother.

Finally it’s party time, and Bar One is open for pre-business.

The only two things missing are circulating air conditioning and co-host NeNe.

Everyone is wearing their Sunday best.

Cynthia is styling in her Studio 54 Cher headband.  After getting lost in the ‘hood, Lawrence and Sheree show up.  As does whacky gay hair guy Derek J in a Lawrence-worthy outfit.  Those girls must both have maxxed out their Chicos credit card this season because they are rocking some fierce blouses.  Two snaps.

Charles is also there, and when all the girls start doing the math they realize that he is probably the reason that NeNe is MIA.

Cynthia questions Peter as to how he made this all happen, and gets the reply that he is “gangstah” and just made it happen.  To distract her he unveils a ginormously large wall photo of Cynthia that would be better suited for Times Square over that flashing Coke bottle.  The fact that in the photo Cynthia had an afro that could be seen from Space was just a bonus.

With about 5 minutes left in the party, NeNe Midler finally makes her entrance.

And it was fierce.

So fierce that Sheree bit her straw in half.

Bloop.