Preparation is Everything – We start out with the “8 hours earlier” montage of all the women performing their pre-reunion rituals and then strapping themselves into the hair and makeup chairs. After a full working day later, they are cinched, taped, makeup caked, and ready to take several seats at the insufferable semi-circle of the damned. The outfits this year don’t seem too conducive to hurling insults across the Pier One coffee table. They really should be sporting leggings as pants.
Reinforce your weaves, let’s dive into the low-lights:
Tittay Talk – the ladies spent some time at the spa this season and the girls are literally and figuratively on display tonight! Kandi reveals that she decided to have a boob job after they finished filming. Phaedra has an unhealthy obsession with camel-toe, but she feels this is perfectly normal because Amazon sells prosthetic camel toe. Just because it’s for sale guuuurrrrl, doesn’t make it right. Case in point:
OHAC asks Cynthia if Papa Smurf met Cynthia’s rejuvenated va-jay-jay, but she denies. They came close, but no cigar in the hot dog bun vagina.
Minding Your Manor – we revisit the battle of Moore Manor vs. Chateau Shereé. Nothing really new to be seen here, except we learn that Kenya had some intruders at Moore Manor and ran them off with her trusty hand gun. OHAC polls the ladies on who owns a gun, they all raise their hands except Cynthia. SBS just got her permit. Hang on to your wigs and Spanx ladies and gents. These crazy beyotches be ARMED! I can hear Phaedra now, “but officer, this is my medicinal sawed off shotgun.”
SBS clears up the misconception that she isn’t living in the Chateau, but Kenya says she drives by, en route to her daily deeds of doom and destruction, and she never sees lights on. Well duh, a home with no appliances needs no electricity! Although she would need the air compressor for her mattress…hmm. Anyhoo – Kenya admits she went into the basement at Chateau Shereé at prompting by producers to be purposefully shady. The arguing ensues and SBS reveals that Kenya didn’t provide a port-a-potty for her contractors and they had to poo and pee in the gully. Explains the foul odor about a quarter-mile circumference around Moore Manor. SBS tops it off with some “true tea” about Kenya having a rich African married man giving her money for the down payment on Moore Manor. Kenya stands firm, she is self-made and pays her own way 100%, via her earnings from the “Dubai Date Book”? How do we get in on this Dubai Date Book, can we order from Amazon alongside our prosthetic camel toes and synthetic man buns? Asking for a friend…
Frienemies – Phaedra let Kenya back in her life a pinch and suffered the dire consequence, as predicted. Phaedra brings up text-gate 2002, while SBS settles up all the bets on when exactly Kenya/Phaedra friendship would free fall into a fiery abyss.
Cynthia weighed in and didn’t really like Kenya’s divorce party either, but she didn’t feel it warranted Phaedra’s, I’m sick and in desperate need of ginger-ale, and while I’m at it I’ll bring up some old wound I said I forgave, but not really, OMG you triflin’ beyotch textin’ my huzzzband who has now been in jail for two years and whom I am divorcing, and who is now engaged to his prison-pen-pal-in-a-box, OH LORT why do I care anymore, I just don’t know, I just need this dayum Bravo paycheck, over the top reaction. Kenya claims Phaedra is living two lives, Southern Belle public face and Freak HO on da’ streets. Bottom line, Phaedra has turned into an asshole of epic proportions and she needs to be canned. Although, Ayden should have his own show where he just says things at random for 22 minutes.
Anger Mis-Management – Porsha addresses her tremendous progress, while SBS and Phaedra steady her to prevent a Defcon 4 melt-down. Now that Porsha is an expert in how to emote and not get arrested, she hints that Kandi has her own anger management issues and could benefit from some therapy. As Porsha lectures, Kandi cracks up in her face. Guuuuurrrrl, when you gonna learn? Kandi is fresh outta f*cks to give. She doesn’t need the Bravo paycheck or your triflin’ ass telling her she’s a rageaholic. There’s some more caterwauling between the two, but I’ve grown tired and disinterested.
Since this is just part one of 987, I’m gonna save up my energy for when we get to the uncontrollable sobbing and storm offs. See ya’ next week!