Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Le recap blinqué, 18 de mars!

Oh brother.  If there wasn't a bible to write about this episode then I ain't a legal midget in two states.  Let's even forget LuAnn's contra-feminist Edith Wharton rules of dating and feminism, shall we?  OK.  Because new as this laptop is I'm sure screaming and crying into the keyboard isn't going to translate into word composition, my love my sweet.

Next, the Russel Simmons & Sting party?  Clearly it was an event to which Bravo begged Russel to invite the girls, since five out of six of them showed up alleging, "oh!  [spouse] and I came home to a PILE of invitations after the Hamptons, and since it was a WEDNESDAY and there was nothing BETTER to do..."  The Countess and Kelly yawned, while Ramona was uncouth and tactless (and kinda bitchy!), while Silex kind of let their guard down when Alex absent-mindedly whimpered "do we HAVE to wait till Sting [the only person US Weekly would recognize] shows up?"  Simon looked at her with a "we're on camera and how dare you live through the night" glare and saved the trip by making out with Alex and then claiming the only reason their faces were melting was because ALEX WAS SO HOT!  LOL OMG WTF wearefamewhores!

Speaking of Silex's tempestuous romance, we got a little glimpse into the nascent stages:  Alex wasn't looking for anyone.  Simon wasn't looking for anyone.  But they backed into each other online looking to hook up.  Nice use of Craigslist, you New York socialites.  Hahaha, people who started a long-term relationship after a one-night stand are such...  Oh. Um.

LuAnn's idiot countess routine is now a weekly installment, as her patrician ignorance of the neighborhoods south of the Park displayed an aristocratic stupidity that doesn't even exist anymore.  "Where are we?  Is this SoHo?"  I mean, Kelly claimed she lived in SoHo/Little Italy/Chinatown, verbatim, and having lived on Lafayette and White (two blocks South of Canal!) for two years, I get that geographical ambiguity.  Call it SoHo, or call it Tribeca, but don't be an idiot like LuAnn and ask on camera.  The only time that sort of attitude was acceptable was when Big sexily crooned to Carrie on Sex and the City they were below 14th Street, and anything was acceptable.  Sorry Countess, I am only going to respect your money when it comes with an Armani suit and a driver.  Oh, and a penis.

Cherry on the topping: Jill (who has been too absent!) Jewishly screeching at the "squalor" of Silex's house: "How do they have SEX on the top of that bed?  Especially with their kids on the other side of the wawl!!!"  Oh Jill.  You clearly have your priorities straight, and yes, you are still my FAVORITE.  HOUSEWIFE.

PS.  Sweet sassy mo-lassy!  They're making a Real Housewives of New Jersey.  Damn Bravo, you are really taking your satire to a literal sense here (but there goes your six-figure demographic).  But of course I'll watch, so...  

Bling!

jersey
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