Diarrhea Has a Way of Showing Up When You Need It the Most
A #RHONY S12 E18 Recap, Diarrheally Speaking
Hello friends! Fuck an intro, let’s just get right to it because this episode had everything: two Québecois dudes named Philippe and Pascal, an American Idol sex scandal, a shaman, the bats that gave Tinsley Mortimer coronavirus, explosive diarrhea, and, at long last, the boiling point of Dorinda Medley’s weird rage issues! Join us, won’t you? (Any “You Must Remember This” listeners reading these recaps? Karina Longworth? [Thaat’s meee.] No? Okay. Well if you know, you know, and in that case this was a good joke! [No it wasn’t but still!]!) Let us delve into the continuing saga of Gringas Locas En La Casa: A Mexican Odyssey. Or something.
(Put previous recaps into your eyes here.)
So okay! Remember Sonja Morgan’s wild birthday party with the tiny waiter and the restaurant patrons who wanted to walk out into el mar so they don’t have to listen to these drunk white women scream any longer? Well, it is the morning after of all that, and one Dorinda Medley of New York’s glittering Manhattan (I used to read this blog back when we still read blogs called Me-Me-Me that was sort of like D-Listed dot com-style but British and it was so fucking funny it used to regularly make me scream, and they called everything “London’s glittering [whatever]” like “London’s glittering Hyde Park” or “London’s glittering Soho” but then after a while they started being like “London’s glittering Paris” or “London’s glittering Mumbai” to make it extra absurd, so it’d be like “Duchess Kylie of Minogue has made headlines in London’s glittering Sydney” or “Peaches Geldof laid down on a red carpet and shouted ‘I love heroin, me!’ at the Met Gala last night in London’s glittering New York” and shit like that, and it was so fucking funny. Remember Peaches Geldof? Ugh, may she rest. Probably not funny to reference a dead person but Me-Me-Me was part of THAT very specific very Peaches Geldof era of the internet before Twitter had really jumped off and Instagram was still Hipstamatic [!!!] and Facebook hadn’t yet morphed into a fucking evil overlord bent on destroying our relationships with our parents and everything on the internet was still fun and about Peaches Geldof and Phoebe Price [!!!!!!!!! omfg remember Phoebe Price!!! Who even was she to this day?!?!] and whatever Greek shipping heirs were dating Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan and we hadn’t yet learned that our internet fun was actively killing Amy Winehouse and Britney Spears and only one of them would actually survive it oh what a scream!!!
This really turned a corner didn’t it my God the internet is a fucking toilet if we woke up tomorrow and the entire shit was shut down I’d be like, “You know what, it’s for the best, you can still just call up an airline to buy a plane ticket over the phone and p sure I still have an entire jump drive full of porn somewhere it’ll be fine.” As the cleansing granita to this unexpectedly macabre sidebar please know that aforementioned blog called Jean Dujardin from The Artist “John of the Garden” for the entirety of The Artist’s existence in the pop cultural zeitgeist and that never didn’t make me screamlaugh. Also remember John of the Garden’s hot-ass ass? Fuck. Let’s look at him for a minute.
Putain, frappe-moi à la crâne avec un traverse de chemin de fer jusqu’à ce qu’il ne reste de moi qu’une poudre fine!!! That’s French for fucking bash my skull in with a railroad tie until there’s nothing left of me but a fine powder I mean SACRE BLEU!!! That middle picture is what you see while you’re throating that uncut French hog like you haven’t eaten in weeks WHAT WHO SAID THAT THIS SUBSTACK HAS BEEN HACKED AGAIN REPORT THIS POST AT ONCE.
Anyway a little early in the recap for a digression this unhinged but listen art is a mystery and sometimes we just have to be willing to say ~*yes*~ and ~*go*~ where we’re ~*led*~, do you know? In closing, I would like to remind you of John of the Garden’s dog in The Artist, Uggie.
What a good boy! May he rest, I hope he’s a great comfort to Peaches Geldof on the other side!)
Anyway, speaking of hot motherfuckers with uncut hogs, being that it’s the morning after a bender Dorinda Medley of London’s glittering Manhattan hired two *extremely Samantha Jones voice* mmm caliente trainers to come work everyone’s hangover off, but none of these hoes will get out of bed!
Which, relatable but HELLO EXCUSE ME LOOK AT THEM.
I mean that dude on the left is kind of a butterface—or maybe it’s just the hair? Idk something about him from the neck up doesn’t sit right with my spirit, but Goatee McGillicuddy over here on the right can fucking GET THIS WORK. P sure he’s gay too, he just has a sort of ~*movement style*~ that bespeaks a man whose ~*anal cavity*~ has been ~*explored*~ Wow let’s take a moment to meditate upon the image of Goatee McGee here being authoritatively, even aggressively but at the same time? gently? railed by John of the Garden from the 2009 Oscar-winning film The Artist… Now that’s what I call cinema!
In any case, since no one can be bothered to gawk at these hot Mexican dudes against the backdrop of London’s glittering Gulf of Mexico, which is frankly an act of terrorism, Dorinda decides to channel her 80s self, whompst was an actual aerobics instructor, and teach the dudes some Jane Fonda.
See told you Goatee O’Shaughnessy is gay, those are homosexual pants ask literally anyone! Anyway, Leah, Ramona and Sonja may be opting to sleep in but you know Luann’s thirsty ass lit up like a dog in heat all like “HOT WORKOUT DUDES WHERE LEMME AT ‘EM MAMA’S PUSSY TIENE HAMBRE *pants*” So she makes it outside to hot workout guy, who we find out is named Raul because he was built in a lab to destroy me (Raul is a hot name and there has never been an unhot Raul just like how no unhot Jakes exist it’s literally science call London’s glittering Harvard or wherever they make all the science and ask!!), and he lays it on thick.
See? Extremely gay, only hamoxshuls know how to flatter rich ladies like this. Also turns out he’s not just a trainer he’s also A LATIN DANCE INSTRUCTOR (and that’s on what? Homosexuality!) so he starts teaching them to dance, and right in the middle of it Dorinda’s like, “I’m sorry to cut this short but I need to use the restroom” and literally runs away to go take a massive dump.
Relatable! That leaves Luann’s thirsty ass with these two dudes all to herself, which is of course embarrassing and wonderful.
Meanwhile, Sonja has arisen and is on the phone with her business partner planning the launch party for her fashion line, because a business lady never sleeps! We get a tiny glimpse back at literally my favorite Sonja Morgan antic of all time.
Is it that Sonja’s contouring is entirely too brown for the lighting or the fact that she looks like Janice from the Muppets here? No, though those are close seconds. It is, rather, the mere mention of the misbegotten but deeply beloved Sonja Morgan toaster oven line.
“Sonja Home.” How fucking wonderful.
Anyway, her biz partner reminds her that the guest list for said launch party is overdue, so she goes outside to get some work done and finds Leah doing the same. Business sisters! They chat about how no one really understands how much responsibility it is to own your own business except other business owners—even on vacation, you can’t really be on vacation, etc. Leah and Sonja are working away in peace, but then the other girls come out to join them and eat breakfast and OF COURSE, Dorinda gets mad that Sonja and Leah are working at the breakfast table.
And heeere we go. Leah, quite rightly, is like, “YOU GUYS came and interrupted US,” which, right?! Sonja is apologetic but explains she has to get these launch party invitations done, and of course Dorinda cannot abide anything but capitulation so she makes a big scene where she pretends like she has work to do too and storms off.
A child.
Leah is basically like WTF?
And Luann is like, well it IS kind of rude, and points out that they all have responsibilities, and OF COURSE this is her cue to make it about her fucking cabaret show.
OH SHUT UP LUANN YOU DO NOT. As for Sonja, she has had it and storms off like SORRY I LIVE IN A LA QUINTA INN AND NEED MONEY BYE.
She stalks off into the house ranting to NO ONE.
And the chefs are like, “Uh, como?”
Back outside Dorinda has returned and she, Luann and Ramona are still lecturing Leah about how rude it is to work at the table and she's like I WAS HERE FIRST JUST MINDING MY LITERAL BUSINESS YOU ABSOLUTE BAGS OF DRY ROASTED NUTS!
And Dorinda isn’t having that AT all.
And she just! Keeps! Going! Leah is ready to blow at Dorinda’s insanity until Ramona intervenes.
She literally says, “Just let her rant and rave,” and honestly? It works! Dorinda runs her mouth a bit more, cools down, goes for a dip in the pool and that’s that!
I don’t want to condone Dorinda’s behavior, but like as a fellow Sagittarius I get this! When I'm heated like this sometimes (all times) I just need to know that I'm being heard like Valerie Cherish!
That's all I need! I mean, unlike Dorinda I have had an EXTREME amount of therapy on account of being WILDLY MENTALLY ILL so I CAN be told I'm wrong once I know I'm being heard? But still! I feel her! But be that as it may, this is just one of, what, THOUSANDS of outbursts on Dorinda’s part, and Ramona and Sonja are basically like, WHAT THE CHRIST IS DORINDA’S PROBLEM. We’ve obviously discussed potential sources of this issue ad nauseum all season, but Ramona brings up something that never occurred to me.
Gasp! MAYBE THAT’S IT! But Sonja, fairly, is like I AM NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION. Because, you know, how do you broach that with a friend? “Dorinda, do you suppose that the cessation of menarche has rendered you batshit fucking crazy and maybe you need to get on some fucking ovary pills???” There’s no winning this. But Sonja does agree with Ramona that this is quite possibly the reason for Dorinda’s vitriol, based on her historical analysis of the Salem witch trials.
WRITE ME better dialogue than this. I fucking dare you. It can’t be done sit down!
Meanwhile, Leah and Luann see two dudes on the beach, one of whom is FINE, the other of whom is, you know, fine, and they wanna holler but Leah’s like:
And Luann is like:
And so I will be spending my weekend discarding all of my ugly shorts if anyone needs me! Anyway, they do indeed chat these dudes up, and thirsty-ass Luann goes in for the kill.
I can’t explain this but isn’t there something so 80s about the way Luann flirts? Like this is some 80s shit! It’s like Carol Kane trying to seduce that guy in Jumpin’ Jack Flash or something. It’s just so weird and dated. Anyway, she invites them up to the Mexican McMansion, and Leah’s basically like, “Be careful, this house is full of dick-crazy crones!” And sure enough, the moment they arrive whompst should come out and make a weird spectacle…
Y’all’s mom is so embarrassing. However, I gotta give kudos to Ramona here for one thing. Because the dude on the left, Philippe, is OBVIOUSLY empirically hotter than Pascal there on the right, but Ramona's just like "I'll suck both your dicks dry till you’re nothing but a desiccated hull let’s goooooo *sounds vuvuzela*!” and I appreciate that inclusivity! Why can't gay men be more like this?! Gay men would NEVER. They’d just pretend poor Pascal wasn't even in the room, and I mean that literally because that is literally what gay men do to me all the time. I hate it here!
Anyway, I want to go on record that while Philippe is hot as fuck I honestly prefer Pascal. First of all, I need a huggy bear and Philippe would be like cuddling a piece of gristle, which is how Guy Ritchie described Madonna during their divorce and I have thought about it like once a week for 12 years. This was right before her “Sticky and Sweet Tour” and some evil queen on the internet took the logo and changed it to the “Gristle and Bone Tour” and I’ve thought about that like once a week for 12 years too! Anyway if you laughed at this paragraph you are mean and sexist and canceled!!!
I digress, the point is: I need to know you can house this ass AND a cheeseburger know what I mean So BYE PHILIPPE-SHA! He’s hot but I bet he's a stone-cold fucking bore and talks about nothing but protein powder and the stock market and truly I’d rather be run over by a car. He probably can't fuck for shit either and if you’ve ever dicked down with a hot you know I’m right. Hots ain’t shit! Entitled! Boring! Ban hots!!!
Moving on. Now it’s nighttime and everyone’s getting ready to hit the town—except Dorinda who's got diarrhea so bad she actually shit on the floor while reaching for something, which Ramona can’t abide.
Please note Sonja's face.
Anyway remember how Leah and my VERY CLOSE PERSONAL FRIEND (per last week’s recap) Elyse (UGH! ELYSE!!!) said in that Cameo that Ramona shits during sex and I said I believed it on the basis that she shit on the floor in Cartagena a couple seasons ago? Well ladies and gentlemen SONJA MORGAN WITH THE DRAG!
Look at Ramona looking at the camera like *Curb Your Enthusiasm theme*!!! I laughed so fucking hard I had to breathe into a paper bag. Anyway, unfazed, these women just start primping in Dorinda's bathroom while she's diarrheaing on the toilet stool right in front of them!!! (Anyone else have a Southern grandmother who called it a toilet stool? No? Me neither I was just wondering if you did.) Just casually curling their hair while offering to buy Dorinda diapers!!!
And when Ramona's like no, no one wants diapers, Sonja's basically like "Eh, who among us." AND THEN THE EDITORS SHOW A PHOTOGRAPH OF SONJA IN DIAPERS IN CARTAGENA.
My heart stopped, burst through my chest, exploded into a puff of dust and blew away on a draft from the air conditioning vent I swear to God. This is the greatest show ever made. Fuck Norman Lear. Fuck Bob Newhart. Fuck Mary Tyler Moore and Dick Van Dyke and all four Golden Girls and like, IDK, Hooperman and NYPD Blue and Viva Laughlin and whatever the fuck else. This is ART!
Then Dorinda says her bedroom smells like a barn and you can fuck The Sopranos too!
Then she says Cartagena ruined her intestines forever and that’s a fuck you Mad Men! Nothing will ever top this show!
Then Leah comes in as if she’s just entered a murder scene.
And Ramona just blurts out "She's got the runs" in her New York accent and that’s a hearty go to hell to Cheers because this is the best television comedy of all time!
Then Leah says, “Honestly I wouldn’t mind some diarrhea right now” because:
Seinfeld? HOW ABOUT FUCK YOUFELD!!! Then Sonja’s like:
“Look at it.” Not HER. It!!! And then Leah’s like!
While Dorinda’s laying in bed blowing out her o-ring!!!
Every writer’s room is fired and the television writing Emmy is canceled!!! Then Ramona’s like, “She can’t come with us tonight,” and Leah says—sincerely! like with nurturing concern!
Go to your computer and delete your pilot scripts! You are a hack! This is the best comedy writing in all of American arts and letters!!!
Then! Then! Then! This happens!!!!
Cancel! Your! Improv! Classes! You! Will! Never! Be! Funnier! Than! This! In fact cancel the entire ART of comedy! Cancel stand-up! Cancel SNL! Cancel this Substack but maintain the recurring Patreon donations!!!
Then Sonja’s like:
And IDK if she's referencing the fact that she is constantly farting or if she’s calling back to Ramona’s penchant for shitting on the floor but either way, I was blessed. Anyway, because the editing staff at Bravo are professionals, they give us a button to this scene (that’s a TV term for the ending of a comedic scene thank you so much I have read several books about television writing!): Dorinda gets another di-di attack as Leah is about to use the bathroom before they leave and she's like eeeeuuggh buoy!
Whew! So that was really something. Poor Dorinda. In her interview, though, Ramona says she's kind of glad Dorinda's not coming because she's been so testy lately, which is mean but... also true. They could probably all use a Dorinda break.
In any case they all go out to this fancy spot, and the Montreal guys show up and these embarrassing women fight over them like some 1970s sitcom.
And then Sonja says Ramona's in heat lolololol.
Then Philippe is like, "I want to know what the relationship between all of you is" and Leah's tipsy so she puts it alllll on the mat. In re: Ramona:
In re: Sonja:
And, last but not least, Luann.
Thank God for Leah. Then this super-gay waiter comes with a retinue of sparkler-carrying shot-pourer dudes and you can tell shit’s about to go off the rails. Ramona starts bobble-heading around.
A Philippe and Pascal are like:
They're all REALLY having fun!
And it occurred to me... would they be having this much fun if Dorinda were there? LIKE NO OFFENSE I HATE TO SAY IT BUT LIKE!!! And turns out I'm not the only one who had that thought because…
I screamed.
Meanwhile, Pascal is trying to mack on Ramona and of course she's fucking ruining it.
Buuuuut when she makes a joke about how old she is, Pascal’s like “You can’t be older than me, I’m 44!” And she’s like…
And you know that’s music to Ramona’s ears so I think someone’s about to get their dick wet and his name is Pascal!!! Actually no, it’s Phillippe because he and Leah are basically fucking at the table while Luann and Sonja gossip like a couple of yentas.
The punchline is, of course, that you know Luann is fucking SEETHING inside that he picked Leah and not her lolol.
The next day, Dorinda’s asshole has presumably stopped Pompeii-ing, so they all go off to meet a shaman and tour the cenotes, those wild Mexican ocean caves that everyone who’s ever gone to Cancun won’t shut up about! AND THEN SOMETHING TRULY INSANE HAPPENS. They're on the bus to the excursion and Luann and Dorinda start gossiping about someone Luann recently fucked.
Someone “prominent.”
!!!!! And THEN! They show Ramona and she’s like!
And then!!!
Okay so think about it! An American Idol alum whompst has dicked down not one, not two, but THREE Housewives from the SAME show--and all three fucking hot! I mean Ramona's trash but, you know, she's hot! For 63?! I mean come on. So who from American Idol can possibly be slinging this much dick?!
You truly will never guess.
Constantine fucking Maroulis?! You know, the guy who looks like he works at a gyro shop in Newark? Yes him! WHAT THE FUCK KINDA PIPE IS CONSTANTINE MAROULIS LAYING?! Because like NO OFFENSE BUT LIKE MAYBE IN SOME CULTURES HE’S HOT BUT WE LIVE IN THIS CULTURE AND I HAVE QUESTIONS OK SORRY!!!! He can sing though. I saw him in that idiot play Rock of Ages which was so fucking dumb I mean the state of American theater is really in a shambles and that's before Covid came along and put it all out of business forever! I mean that was like 10 years ago! Anyway Constantine Maroulis was the lead and the bitch can really blow but the show was just absolute garbage I mean just fucking terrible. Ok you know what was good though circa the same era was the musical version of Xanadu. That shit was so stupid! It was hilarious! And also Cheyenne Jackson was in hot pants the entire time and excuse me hello yes hi!
Thick thighs save lives! Also he had one of my most favorite lines on 30 Rock which was, "Stop trying to send dirty text messages to my landline, Jenna!” So we have no choice but to stan.
Anyway what? Oh right. CONSTANTINE MAROULIS?! I am in shock. I found out about this Saturday morning and I have thought about it approximately every 15 mins since. Nothing about 2020 makes sense.
Anyway they get to the cenotes and the shaman does a Mayan chant to bless them and have all of nature keep them safe on their cenote excursion. Which is lovely!
But his chant makes all the birds go crazy and all the women start panicking.
So turns out God is dead but this shaman is real. Believe and be saved! Next they go to the cenote, which you have to rappel into, and everyone’s scared. Except for Luann who takes one look at the guide, JJ…
And she’s like LEMME RAPPEL DOWN THAT DICK AMIRITE.
They all get down there without incident, and dumb screencaps don’t do it much justice, but it’s pretty spectacular.
Except it's full of bats and sorry in 2020 that hits different.
Then they go to lunch, and what do meals typically mean? Fights! They’re all in such a good mood it seems impossible. But then… well, Leah says the shaman reminded her of this witch she sees in Brooklyn. And out the gate, Ramona's creeped out.
But then, Leah relays the advice the witch gave her—that she found the location of the negative energy Leah’s evil ex-boyfriend left behind and, well…
And OF COURSE Ramona can’t abide this!
But then Leah says to heal the energy, the witch had her put a crystal egg in her vagina. And everyone is some level of “Excuse me, but the fuck?”
But Ramona’s entire psyche collapses.
Please note that the witch also saged Leah’s vagina, because this show is a gift from a benevolent lord and savior—possibly that Mayan shaman! Anyway, Leah’s like “Chill, it’s a healing energy exchange!” And Ramona’s like, “Yeah no sure fine I get it.”
So, conflict averted! UNTIL *ominous music cue* Dorinda’s phone rings! And remember how she fucking flipped her shit because Sonja and Leah were on their phones and tablets at the breakfast table?
Well, seems that rule doesn’t apply to Dorinda! And all the women are like, “This bitch.”
So Ramona goes there. She’s like, “I thought we were having lunch,” and you guessed it, Dorinda gets belligerent. Sonja’s like, how come you can take a call at lunch but I can’t run my business at breakfast, and Dorinda goes into a big diatribe about how they’re two totally different things. Then she goes up a gear and starts getting sarcastic and caustic and pointing her finger in people’s faces, and Ramona decides she’s fucking had it.
Dorinda of course just keeps yelling. So Luann tries to reason with her.
And Dorinda’s like “BITCH YOU BETTER DON’T.”
Things keep escalating, and now Dorinda goes into sarcastic ice queen mode. First she asks to be excused so she can go call her daughter away from people “she thinks are her friends,” and all the women are like COME ON. Then, as she leaves, she makes a big mocking “thank you” to Ramona for her advice on how to behave.
Just being a child. And Ramona is starting to lose it. And I can’t believe Dorinda is making me actually side with Ramona Singer, but Ramona’s at the end of her rope and I don’t blame her!
Ramona says they’re just trying to help, and Dorinda seems like she’s about to cry and says, “There’s nothing to help me about.” It’s a VERY weird moment. She keeps walking away and Ramona just LOSES IT.
And then, honestly, Dorinda made me gasp. As Ramona cries and keeps trying to get Dorinda to let the girls help her with whatever she’s going through, she simply says, cold as fucking ice "I gotta go, I gotta go congratulate my daughter." And then gives this fake, sarcastic, “aw rats, it can’t be helped” LAUGH.
I mean just... as if nothing happened, just smooth as silk. Like a goddamn psychopath!!! It was SHOCKING. And all the girls are left astounded that, once again, Dorinda has blame-shifted and projected.
But then it gets worse! Ramona is still crying, and Dorinda turns around and says, very sweetly, like a mother would to a child:
And like… goddammit Dorinda and I really ARE alike YIIIIIIKES!!! Do you know how many times I have VERBATIM said this to people?!?! I mean nowadays I’m more evolved so it’s only like asshole Trump-fucking dudebros yelling at me at a red light or whatever that I say this to. (It seriously is my favorite comeback when men get mad and out of order! I like to add a “pumpkin-doodle” to the mix, as in, “Aww, it’s okay pumpkin-doodle, you’ll be alright.” BITCH THEY GET SO MAD!!! Also when someone calls you a faggot, a good comeback is, “Ever had a faggot kick your ass?” Or, “Awwww, you don’t have to get all mad baby, I’ll totally suck that dick if you just ask nice!” One of these days I am DEF getting murdered but so far these lines have won me every altercation I have gotten into with straight men, who by the way should all be in federal prison!!!) But pre-therapy? This is 100% how my family communicated when I was growing up, so I used to say this shit to ppl I cared about all the time! I am having flashbacks of saying this to my mom! "Aww it's okay, Carol. You'll be okay." And look my mom is a monster in sensible J. Jill separates so she probably deserved every word but damn, that shit's cold and belittling and awful! I mean I hate to just fling the A-word around but this kind of behavior is low-key abusive, and it was shocking to watch.
Anyway, Dorinda comes back so they can leave, and she gets even more psychotic and I am feeling EXTREMELY TRIGGERED.
Ramona is, understandably, ready to explode. But she knows there’s no point in even trying with Dorinda so she just gives up. Instead, she lays into Leah for not backing her up. And Leah’s like “BITCH WHET???”
She also says, in her interview, that until about five seconds ago Ramona was constantly attacking her and Dorinda has never spoken so much as a cross word to her, so why the hell would she shiv Dorinda to help Ramona? Which, you know, fair. To Ramona’s face, Leah just asks why she is required to get in the middle of Ramona and Dorinda’s drama and leaves it at that.
As for Dorinda? Still just chuckling like a goddamn psychopath.
And then they all piled into the van and murdered each other in cold blood and now the show is canceled.
A FULL NIGHTMARE! And honestly next week looks even worse. Gotta be real, I worry for Dorinda.
Here’s a discussion question for the group: What’s worse, someone who communicates like Dorinda, or someone who doesn’t communicate at all? Let that keep you up at night because both are a horror show!!! What’s fun though—and I wonder if Dorinda’s background is the same—when you grow up in this kind of family, you never have any idea that people are anything besides happy unless they are vicious to you! Which makes for really fun interpersonal relationships! “How could you not know that hurt me?” BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T BECOME PSYCHOPATHICALLY CAUSTIC AND/OR LOUD AND ABUSIVE AND MAYBE THROW A THING ACROSS THE ROOM FOR EXTRA EMPHASIS I’M NOT THE GODDAMN LONG ISLAND MEDIUM!!!
I mean truly and honestly thank God for therapy. Whew! Did this get too dark? IDK they always say to reveal yourself in your art so it’s either this or selfies of my asshole!!!
Anyway there you have it! Please make a plan to vote that does not rely upon the Postal Service because it no longer exists because we live in hell!!!
Okay until next week bye bye!