DanThat'sCool!

 

 

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.

 

 

 

Back it off.

 

 

 

 

Take it off.

 

 

 

 

Cut it off.

 

 

 

 

 

Knock it off.

 

 

 

 

“I took my eyes out of my head, put ‘em in my purse and drove my car blind.”

Thank you, NeNe.  That pretty much sums it up.

Luckily I was comfortably planted on the couch for this week’s episode of The Real Housewives of Atlanta and didn’t need to pop out my orbs before I went to bed.

But it was a close call.

Between being forced to witness some of the tightest clothing that has ever been seen on cable television (Seriously…where do these women shop?  Hoochie Baby GAP…?) and then being forced against my will to view the seriously pixelated windmill gyrations of the biggest…umm…well…the largest….

…umm…let’s just say that tonight’s special guest star could have poked out his own eyeballs, as well as NeNe’s, and still have been able to tap a waiter on the shoulder for a refresh of Kandi’s diluted cocktail.

I’m going to leave it at that for a bit because I’m getting ahead of myself.

After the Jerseyesque Baby Shower throw down last week between Peter and Apollo, both the Wives and the ManWives needed to let things chill out for a few days.

Hoping to kiss up and get back on her good side and no doubt catch a glance of that fine piece of boyfriend as a bonus, Phaedra packs a baby gift basket to the brim and hauls it over to Kim’snew home.

Since our girl Phaedra doesn’t even breath oxygen without an ulterior motive, she immediately used the visit to bash on Cynthia for showing up late to the shower and not bringing a gift.  It should also be noted that in the same breath she also points out that she has absolutely no idea what one of the gifts in the basket actually is, but everyone gave her the same thing when she was pregnant so she figured that it must be good.

The whole conversation just led me to believe that the basket was full of items with missing receipts that couldn’t be returned…can you say ReGift?

Speaking of Cynthia, she is still trying to get hubby Peter to play nice with her family.

During their Yabba Dabba Doo Bedrock wedding last season, it became clear that Cynthia’s family is not a big fan of Peter as they nearly put a stop to the whole event by not handing over the paperwork before the service.  Peter got wind of this after the fact, and is holding onto one major grudge.

Since driving his last restaurant into the ground and taking a good chunk of Cynthia’s money with it wasn’t stressful enough, Peter has now moved on to his next business venture.  His new club Bar One is set to open soon providing he can get the investors to cough up the rest of the cash and can actually get the walls put up.  Figuring he isn’t already on the edge, Cynthia decides to drop by the site with her sister Malorie to see if they can manage a big group hug.

Not so much.

Peter does his usual “That’s what I’m sayin’…whassup…I’m good…” and then walks away after making it pretty clear that he would smack that girl upside the head if the cameras weren’t rolling.  No love.

But there’s plenty of love for Kandi and her upcoming birthday party.

Gone are the days when you just take your girlfriends to Uno’s for your birthday.  And gone are the days when someone else plans your party, I guess.

Kandi is turning a whopping 35 and needs to plan her own party at a venue that can handle music loud enough to drown out the ticking of her biological clock.  After pouring herself into some pants that must have been stitched with the same steel retaining fibers they use in bridges, Kandi and her horn dog buddies Phaedra and Sheree swing by the rooftop locale to check out the party plans.

It basically gave the three of them time to bond, get all “MmmHmm, honey,” lie about their ages and fog up the windows with all their fierce Cougarness.  You go, girls.  MmmHmm.

Moving on…NeNe is rich.  Did she mention that yet?

I’m fairly certain that NeNe’s renegotiated Bravo TV contract now requires weekly verification of her monetary awesomeness, because when Girlfriend ain’t talkin’ about money, she is spending money.

This week she is shoe shopping with Kandi and Derek J, Kim’s fierce stiletto wearing HairBoy.

Derek J is not to be confused with Lawrence, Sheree’s fierce stiletto wearing HairBoy.

Or Derek Jeter the baseball player.

The whole thing was just a chance to drop some designer names, do some Kim bashing and get all fierce.

There was a lot of fierce this week.  A lot.

MmmHmm.

While her fierce stiletto wearing HairBoy was talking smack behind her back, Kim was learning how to diaper a baby boy.  Or at least watch Kroy learn how to do it.  For all her many years of being around Boy parts, Kim didn’t seem very comfortable with the process all of the sudden.

Maybe it’s because this time around the Boy part wasn’t going to come with a black Amex card attached, or maybe it was because as soon as this kid is born she will have a drink and a cigarette in her hands and won’t be able to fumble with the velcro tabs…but either way she was out of her element.

And you know you have too much money when you can pay to have Queen Latifah come to your house with a plastic baby doll to demonstrate proper diapering techniques.

I swear that was her.  Check it on reruns.  I thought maybe she would break into a little jazz number after the practice session, but no go.

Kim and her man also got a quick lesson on the Art of circumcision, which made Kroy’s signature faux hawk stand up without the assist of any John Frieda pomade.  But he got to high-five Queen Latifah after successfully completing a fake butt wipe.

So to quote Peter…it was all good.

Not so good at the construction site for Chateau Sheree, though.

The work on Sheree’s Uber Mansion seems to have ground to a halt, and she brought Phaedra along to put the Lawyer Scare on the contractor.  It didn’t seem to speed up the process any, but it gave Phaedra a chance to show off her Donkey Badonkadonk Bootay to a captive audience.

I swear you can see that thing from Space.  Good thing Construction Dude Andrew was sporting his protective eyewear when she backed that thing up.

Ms. Parks does love to show off that junk in the trunk.  You have to be this tall to ride the ride.

MmmHmm.

Things weren’t quite as well put together over at The Bailey Agency, though.

For some reason that I couldn’t quite get a handle on, Cynthia felt that it required three people to build an IKEA office chair and put out the call to Malorie and her exceptionally tall husband Chris to come to her rescue.  Cynthia had just finished up a photo shoot, and was apparently so obsessed with putting together this chair that she didn’t even pause to take off her crazy fake eye lashes and was fumbling with the ratchet wrench looking like a creepy combination of Betty Boop and Carol Burnett when she dressed up like that looney 1920′s silent movie star.

Cynthia is hoping to open up her School for Wayward Model Wannabes asap, so maybe that is why she needed three people.  I don’t know.  But they showed up.

Malorie was still grinding her teeth over the last conversation with Peter and picked up right where they left off last time.  She and Cynthia went a few more rounds but didn’t really solve anything.  Like a State Union job filling potholes, the three of them stood around and bickered until time was up and the job never even got done.

Peter won’t be getting a holiday card from that family anytime soon.

Putting aside all the drama, it was finally time to squeeze into our party outfits and celebrate a birthday!

After getting a heavy coating of Toddlers & Tiaras face primer and lip shine, Kandi poured herself into yet another inconceivably skin tight ensemble and baby stepped her way down to the party.

All the girls were there, except for Kim who was either dilating or washing her wigs.  I forget what they said.

NeNe arrived as though she was having her own private movie premiere in her head.

Phaedra arrived with a taser in her purse just in case the crowd got rowdy.

Sheree arrived still hating NeNe.  And apparently running a little late since she didn’t have time to iron her top.  For realz.  Check it out when you go back to verify Queen Latifah.  She must have swung by the Mall on her way…the top looked like she unfolded it in the car on the way over.  Meow.

It was nothing but tight clothes, dramatic entrances and boys in stilettos.  Remind me to never invest in a mens Florsheim store in Atlanta.

Or any store selling anything over a size 2.  Does anyone in Atlanta even know their actual God given dress size?

Luckily, Momma Joyce was there to help daughter Kandi celebrate.  I love me some Momma Joyce.  And I’m sure that Momma Joyce would love me.

But the two things that Momma Joyce don’t love are multiple Baby Daddies and Strippers, and unfortunately one of the two always manages to find Kandi whenever she leaves the house, and tonight was no exception.

Phaedra decided against the gift card option, and instead unleashed a stripper on Kandi as a present.

And not just any stripper.  Oh, hell no.

For your 3D viewing pleasure, I give you Redickulous.

Yeah.  That Redickulous.

The one that Phaedra has been ovulating over for two seasons.

Let’s just say that you don’t ever want to run with scissors.  Or with Redickulous.  It’s all good fun until someone loses an eye.

And even better?  He’s her client.  Do the math…that means that Phaedra represents not just felons (ie…her husband…) but strippers as well.

Oh.  And Bobby Brown.

Let’s just say that Momma Joyce was not a big fan.  After getting herself all decked out for the evening, and getting her hair did like a character from Fat Albert & The Cosby Kids, the LAST thing Momma Joyce needed to see was a stripper.

She went off like Foghorn Leghorn in a dress.

“I say, I say, I say…that is just bulls***!  That is just nasty!  I do declare!”

I love me some Momma Joyce.  She needs her own show.  Immediately.

NeNe and Cynthia stormed out like they suddenly grew some Class.  Sheree kept on hating.  The boys kept on walking in stilettos.

And hopefully Kandi rinsed out her glass after that Redickulous swizzle stick incident.

I do declare.