I don’t know man… I’ve been dreading this all week, which is why I’ve waited until the last possible second to do it. Like you, I’m guessing, I’m reeling. My expectations for America have always been in the basement, and as the progeny of Evangelical wackjobs I was groomed to be part of the horror going on right now, so I can’t say I’m exactly surprised. Be that as it may… wow. And I don’t really know what the “right” thing to do is, especially because I am (along with, I think, the majority of you) white, and so it feels egregious to be doing anything besides rolling up to a protest and baseball-batting some Nazis (figuratively, Mr. FBI man!). I mean, there are sheets of Saran wrap with more melanin, so this is definitely not my moment to emote.
All that to say, I’ve gone back and forth about 436 times about whether or not to do a recap this week… or ever again? On one level it feels crassly, parodically white--LOL let’s laugh at rich assholes while the world burns haha! But some of you actually pay me to do this (thank you!), for one thing, and more importantly: I don’t know what else to do right now—for the wider world, I mean. The only things I really know how to do are these: write; make comedy; get angry. That’s it, that’s the skillset. So at least, I figure, I can offer a momentary respite from the terror all around us right now, especially for those of you who are Black or Brown.
It feels profoundly, embarrassingly inadequate, but it’s what I got at the moment, and it’s the only thing that has kept me alive for [redacted] years--laughs. (Well, that and Madonna concert videos. Also pizza rolls. But those aren’t really packageable for a Substack.) So maybe if I can make you laugh, it will allow you to catch your breath long enough to rest for a nanosecond if you’re not white, or to do something in the fight against white supremacy and fascism--send the money, go to the protest, have the race conversation, whatever the thing is--if you are.
Speaking of money: I’ll be cashing out my Patreon today and donating it to ActBlue’s bail fund, which collects and distributes money to all the various state-level bail funds keeping protestors out of jail. I’ll also donate any new Patreon sign-ups I get from this recap. As always, thanks for your support!
With that out of the way, one final note, and a fun one: if you are an actual Housewives devotee, you must-see writer Tracie Egan-Morrissey’s (one of the founding editors of Jezebel and Broadly, among others) ongoing Instagram story she calls RHOBLM—Real Housewives of Black Lives Matter. It’s a weird, hilarious, fascinating look at how the Housewives are responding to this aftermath of George Floyd’s death—and she digs into every franchise, so your faves are likely to all be there, either being woke or… occasionally disappointing. Highlights include RHONY alumna Kelly Killoren-Bensimon being cyber-bullied from an “All Lives Matter” person to a “Black Lives Matter” person, so don’t say online abuse never accomplished anything!
Enough rambling. Let’s do this. Let’s take a minute to laugh at… well, abject trash! Hope it nourishes your soul, or some less embarrassingly worded equivalent.
“Hurricane Leah”
So okay! Episode Nine! The ladies are going on vacaysh again, this time to tony Newport, Rhode Island for a bit of seaside fancy-schmancy whatever *jerk-off motion* The episode is called “Hurricane Leah,” and you know what that means: some sort of reprise of Leah’s tits-out tiki-torch telee, which is the word melee but with a ‘t’ to preserve the alliteration because I have not slept at all today and cannot do words!
We meet up at Ramona’s to get in the van to go up to Rhode Island, and Tinsley shows up with her own pillow because she has allergies or something, and these women tease her about it because apparently it’s babyish to bring your own pillow? I have never in my life heard anyone think it’s weird to bring your own pillow on a trip! Luann even tickles Tinsley under her chin like she is a baby from the 1930s! This is bullying!
I’m honestly offended? I have one of those curved memory foam pillows to keep your neck aligned and I have had that bad bitch since 2003 (which is disgusting but I am what I am) and I have never once slept a night without it. Except for the odd hook-up, but even then, as my girl Melissa used to say in our young slutty days, “I’m not a stayer!” I’ma get my nut (in theory anyway, and mostly only in theory because here’s a fun fact, gay men don’t care any more about whether or not their partners nut than straight men do, because all men ain’t shit and you can engrave that on my tombstone), and then I’ma go the hell home! I’m not dealing with all your ~*body heat*~ and ~*breathing noises*~ and ~*restless leg syndrome*~ and whatnot. I’m not doing it! I’m getting a cab and leaving! Yes a cab because the last time I was having regular sex Uber didn’t exist yet please euthanize me humanely!
Anyway, my point is I have taken that pillow with me everywhere I’ve gone since 2003, including to Europe five times because I am neurotic as hell and am convinced I will wake up with a cervical migraine, a condition I just made up that turns out is real, I Googled it. Pillows smash down in a suitcase very easily and I do not know why this is controversial! *Chris Crocker voice* LEAVE TINSLEY ALONE! And here again these bitches are making me empathize with my most disliked Housewive in history. She sucks worse than Joyce who was on Beverly Hills for five minutes in like 2010 or whatever! I am filing suit in federal court!
In any case, they’re in the van on the road trip and Elyse (UGH, Elyse) says they should play a game where they all talk about their most humbling moment and look, if they don’t get Elyse the hell off this program I’m going to go to New York and push her into the Hudson myself. It’s enough with Elyse. Her most humbling moment is so incredibly dumb and boring I can’t remember what it was and I have to go fire up the Hulu again—ah yes, she was flattered to get catcalled by construction workers but it turns out they were catcalling the 18-year-old model behind her.
I’m at capacity with Elyse. Honestly I wish her ill.
Leah brings up that she wants to invite her sister up to Newport the following night, and Ramona is emphatically not having it for reasons that make no sense—something about how this is a girl’s trip? And like… I mean… gender is a construct and all but Leah’s sister is a girl so… I… do not understand the histrionics that ensue a’tall, and I’ll tell you who else doesn’t is their driver, who looks so desperate for the grave he just might hurtle the van headlong into an I-95 bridge abutment just to stop these women from screaming at each other.
They arrive in Newport, where Dorinda has (smartly) driven separately and arrived first, and out the gate Big D is making no sense.
Reader I haven’t the faintest notion what she is talking about. I don’t. I do not.
Leah starts in on Ramona again about convincing her to let her sister come. Ramona relents, but then, as Ramona is wont to do, immediately basically like, “but yo, still fuck that bitch.”
I mean just rude and classless. Also her breasteses look like those sandbags you use to reinforce a riverbank what in God’s name has gone on here. I mean body positive, do you Ramona! I don’t like this kind of talk but it’s been nine episodes and I can no longer hold my tongue. Those things weigh 47 lbs each minimum. No wonder Ramona’s in such good shape! Anyway Ramona’s goes back into her whole, “She’s not a part of the group” spiel, and Leah's all, "You invited Elyse, what's the difference?" and Ramona's like the difference is I've known Elyse for 20 years and I'm like YEAH AND SHE’S A FUCKING DUD GET RID. Then Ramona reneges AGAIN on the basis that she has social anxiety and LOL, this woman is 93 years old and regularly featured dancing on tables in bars so I can see where she’d be ANXIOUS to meet Leah’s sister on a trip being FILMED FOR NATIONAL TELEVISION. Checks out. Dorinda, speaking for all of us as she tends to do, simply cannot take another moment and begins drinking herself to death.
Next they go to get their accommodations and we reach a Real Housewives of New York milestone so momentous I almost can’t believe it was real. LUANN DELESSEPS LIKES HER ACCOMMONDATIONS! SHE HAS NO NOTES! THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED IN HOUSEWIVES HISTORY!!!
Did I dream it? Is this photo real? Am I on benzedrine and it is simply a manifestation of my pre-fontal cortex? I’ll never quite know for sure, but IDK seems fake!
As for Sonja, she just wants to fuck the ocean.
Now Ramona has redecided AGAIN that it’s fine for the sister to come and have I mentioned we have not even reached the first commercial break and I am already tired in the nuclei of the atoms of the molecules of the cells of the marrow of my bones? Thankfully Leah swoops in to up the stakes.
Like it’s all of twilight and Leah is already MESSY. She and Tinsley go to Dorinda's cottage and it’s clear that we’re already at Tropical Depression Leah. Like she’s bubbly and giggly messy, but not throwing tiki torches with your tits out messy—yet. But you can see it in her eyes. Rolling in, the distant swirling clouds of Hurrikin Leah. (I’ve elected to use the British pronunciation on account of it’s funnier.) And in everyone's face you can see that dread we all have with that one friend we got where it's like omg this bitch is about to be a full Cat 5 isn't she aw christ.
Ramona has planned a clambake for them at her cottage, and for fun she has brought every gal a tiara. Naturally, Luann makes it about her and her fucking song “Feelin Jovani,” which has a line about her being a queen, and Sonja simply can’t take it anymore.
WE GET IT YOU HAVE INCOMPETENTLY AUTOTUNED POP SONGS LUANN LITERALLY SHUT UP ABOUT IT. Jesus God the woman has mentioned “Feelin’ Jovani” in every episode of this season. It’s like “Chic C’est La Vie” never happened! This is “Money Can’t Buy You Class” erasure!
Now—Jesus Christ almighty save me with your precious blood—they're talking about Leah’s sister AGAIN and Ramona's decided AGAIN that she’s gonna tell Leah AGAIN that her sister can’t come AGAIN bc she should've asked in advance. At this point I would open a vein if it meant she would just make a decision and stick to it. They all get drinks and Tropical Depression Leah has now been upgraded to Tropical Storm Leah and insists, by which I mean slurs, that her drink is too weak and demands and additional shot, and Ramona, for VERY good reason, is like BITCH WHAT YOU ARE HAMMERED DO NOT. But she’s real judgey about it, and Leah, bringing the energy I seek to bring to all altercations for the rest of my life, gets pissed and is like ACTUALLY MAKE IT TWO MORE SHOTS BARKEEP and heeeeeere we go!
I realize now I’ve neglected to mention that Leah has eaten nothing all day. She is fucking bombed. I don’t want to oversell because… well, we’ve still yet to make landfall at this point! The eyewall has barely formed! But honestly, meteorologically speaking I think we’ve already upgraded to Hurrikin Leah. I’m gonna say Category 3? Damaging winds, potentially deadly storm surge, assholes out taking selfies in garbage-bag rain ponchos. All of it. These women haven’t even had appetizers yet.
Now we must have an argument about whether Leah is an alcoholic, during which Tinsley brings an airtight defense of Leah.
Cut to the quick! We’re done here! Acquitted! Dorinda, ever the boozehound, is like who cares let her drink! But Ramona won’t relent, so she and Leah get into it, during which Leah calls Ramona her elder and I gasped so hard I inhaled the lining of my esophagus.
Ramona doesn't so much as flinch, but I know that RIGHT NOW, as I write this nine months later, she is still manic-eyed and seething.
In any case Leah is now a Cat 4—stop signs flying around, an alligator hiding in trash can, someone’s El Camino riding a wave into the back wall of a Motel 6—and as she rages and hollers incoherently around the clambake, Ramona and Sonja go plot behind Leah's back to ban her sister. But Leah hears and she's piiiiiiiiissed. They’re still only on the first course and they’re already managing her. Tinsley—whompst, by the way, is also shit-canned—tries to get Leah to, for the love of Christ, eat something.
But Leah, perched atop Sonja’s drunk ass, is not having it.
Luann tries to propose a toast to Ramona for hosting such a lovely weekend, but sorry Luann YOUR SHOW HAS BEEN PRE-EMPTED BY HURRIKIN LEAH, who hasn’t yet finished heckling Tinsley.
Sonja, of course, gets horny again, cuz, that’s her thing.
Ramona and Leah are kind of getting into it again and she’s getting rather agitated and… guys I think it’s time to call it: We are at Category 5, a once-in-a-hundred-years calamity, permanent beach erosion, some asshole’s fishing boat crashing through the front window of a Taco Bell, a baby stroller full of leaves and a dead swordfish blowing down the carpool lane of an abandoned six-lane freeway. They’ll be talking about Hurrikin Leah for years to come.
Case in point: Tinsley and Dorinda, both just shitfucked, eyes half-mast, slurring their words, begin to have a heart-to-heart. Aww, how wonderful! After all that drama! How moving!
Or it would be, if Leah and Sonja weren’t running around the table playing grab-ass like a French farce.
Luckily for Tinsley and Dorinda, they’re so schnackered they don’t even notice, but for the rest of us, well… the conversation goes like this:
Then, as Dorinda and Tinsley continue their apologies, Leah just starts screaming and kicks the camera. I told you! Category 5!
Dorinda and Tinsley are unfazed and undeterred.
And Sonja and Leah are… I don’t know, also unfazed and undeterred.
And then Dorinda and Tinsley get so deep, they stop making sense.
And honestly I relate to this cuz this is exactly the kind of shit I tend to do when I get drunk. I'm like, Okay guys do you want to hear my completely incoherent thoughts about the unconstitutionality of the 2000 presidential election of the weirdly detailed genesis of my strained and traumatic relationship with my father? And my friends are like, oh christ why am I friends with this person how much vodka can I guzzle right now so that I die but it looks like an accident.
Anyway, Ramona has once again broken the news to Leah that her sister isn’t welcome and she has completely lost her mind and is screaming while jokingly (?) hurling glassware hither and yon.
And while she does that, Tinsley tries to force Dorinda to give her a hug, and Dorinda’s like UGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH:
Which, fair! Now Leah is stomping off while crying and Elyse (UGH Elyse) tries to go after her but Leah’s not having it so Dorinda goes after her instead, but before she can even get to her Leah has stopped crying and is doing a somersault.
Like you do! And no sooner does Leah finish her tumbling but she’s somehow immediately back up on her feet and just, like, indiscriminately roaring? For no reason? Here let Dorinda demonstrate.
Then she starts throwing chairs and Luann goes full mom voice.
And now Leah has run off sobbing again, this time with Ramona. Back at the table, Luann starts dragging Leah, and says, sans irony: “Have you ever seen me behave that way ever?” And the editors are like, "Bitch are you serious ROLL THE TAPE" and shows us Luann in 2017 drunkenly walking off a ledge and falling into a bush in Mexico…
…and face-planting onto a patio so hard that at the time I gasped the kind of gasp when you see, like, a freight train run someone over and tear them in half—like I was certain Luann was gonna be dead.
Of course the editors leave out the time Luann was drunk and bellowed DON’T TOUCH ME I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU at a police officer and then WENT TO ACTUAL JAIL. I cannot stress this enough. “Have you ever seen me act like this?” YES BITCH! AND SO HAVE BOTH THE PALM BEACH AND NEW YORK COUNTY CRIMINAL COURTS!
Anyway Leah is continuing to have a meltdown about her sister, and while Dorinda and Tinsley comfort her...
…all the “these bitches” in question can talk about is Leah’s poor etiquette and I am just ready to catapult this laptop into the building across the street. Ramona, Sonja and Luann are always getting on some high horse about etiquette and like, forgive my candor but YOU ARE ALL TRASH!!! YOU ARE A 437-YEAR-OLD WOMAN WHO DANCES ON TABLES AND HAS SANDBAGS FOR TITS AND YOU WERE JUST WIPING YOUR PUSSY ON THE STALKS OF A CORN MAZE MERE DAYS AGO AND YOU JUST GOT OFF FUCKING PROBATION, RESPECTIVELY!!! YOU ARE A TRIO OF SHONEY’S WAITRESSES NAMED PATRICE WHO MADE GOOD GTFOH!
Etiquette. I mean the sheer, unmitigated, USDA-Prime temerity.
Anyway Ramona finally capitulates on the sister thing bc Leah has gone completely fucking insane and now Leah's sobbing even harder but in relief and I do not know how to describe the baroque insanity that is occurring so let’s just let Tinsley's face do the talking.
Sonja, God love her, just sits down amidst the pandemonium and starts housing lobster while staring into the abyss.
And so concludes Hurrikin Leah, the most catastrophic tropical storm in Rhode Island history.
Now it's the next morning. Dorinda and Leah chat on the beach and Leah says she doesn't remember anything from the night before but feels like she released a lot of negative energy and it's like, lol girl I guess. I mean I have never heard anything so insane in my life and I am a person who once had a low-grade psychotic break in a Panera Bread bathroom. I’ll tell you that story someday when you’re older.
Anyway, everyone convenes at Ramona and Sonja's place and Elyse (UGH Elyse) comes in and is like, "Well I wasn't drinking so I went to bed at a normal hour" and LOL drink bleach Elyse you are a monster. That is abuse! How dare! Anyway they talk about how Leah is a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde and Ramona's like:
…and as a man of [redacted] years I have never felt so seen! I'm not here for the children! Shut up and go to bed, it is 2am and I am sexting while doomscrolling Twitter and watching The Golden Girls, I need quiet! Leah's only like 4 yrs younger than me but still, it's enough. In any case, Tinsley and Leah arrive and Elyse gets super judgey and starts analyzing Leah, asking her if she thinks her crazy drunken self is why she can’t land a man and OH SHUT UP ELYSE WHY DON'T YOU GO ANALYZE THAT BRENDA WALSH HAIRCUT. I mean I have just had it. And so has Dorinda.
They all pile into two cars to go shopping and Leah is immediately like, Elyse can suck my dick from the back (I’m paraphrasing), and they all shit-talk her self-righteous ass. Then in the other car, Elyse, Ramona and Sonja shit-talk Dorinda for being drunk. And I must admit that Elyse does a really good Dorinda impression but I refuse to give her credit for anything she sucks.
They start their shopping excursion and Elyse starts in lecturing Leah again, this time about the kind of example she’s setting for her daughter, and it's like lol yo do you two even know each other? Why are you giving her parenting advice, Elyse?! Do you even have children? And furthermore--and this is the biggest point I'd like to make, I can’t stress it enough—shut the fuck up.
Anyway Leah curses her out and storms off in a huff, quite rightly. They all reconvene in a bar and everyone gets heated for a sec and then they all make nice, except Ramona, who is now ostracizing Leah because she hasn’t apologized for her antics the previous night. So Leah apologizes but of course that's not good enough for Ramona’s etiquette standards, being a woman who, again I remind you, is 1,315 years of age and regularly dances on tables in bars, like calm down Princess Grace.
Ramona says that Leah's behavior was so egregious that she blocked it out because it triggered memories of her chaotic childhood. Have you ever in all your days?! I have actual PTSD from my chaotic childhood but you don’t see me out here bold-faced lying to folks when I get triggered, I just lash out and make mean jokes that are definitely funny but low-key hurtful, like a normal person! Anyway that makes Leah feel awful and she starts crying. While she and Ramona hash it out, Luann DRAGS Ramona, saying she didn’t block anything out, she blacked out because she was shitbitched too. (Do you like how I’m creating new euphemisms for drunk by just ramming profanities together? Thank you so much, but I’m just the vessel.)
Luann can't take it anymore and calls Ramona out to her face, and Ramona's defense is that Luann and Dorinda had good childhoods so they should shut up, and I'm sorry but I cannot abide this. I had an awful childhood and I hate absolutely everyone who has ever had even a single fleeting moment of happiness in their entire life ever, I consider it an act of aggression, but I don't hold it over their heads like it makes me better than them! I mean it does, but I would never say so.
Anyway Ramona goes back to moralizing Leah and Leah's like "maybe you just don't need to like me" because she is that bitch and can't be bothered. And that is where we end on a “To Be Continued,” which means Leah and Ramona are fixing to fuck each other up tonight, which is exciting. Leah throws a ravioli at her!!
So that should be fun!
Okay, there you have it: episode nine. Do you feel better? I don’t! But it was really nice to laugh a bit. I hope you enjoyed it as well. Until next week, keep your head up, remember that nothing lasts forever, even civil unrest and possibly resultant fascist regimes, and try to think of one thing you can do in the next week to fight white supremacy. Just one thing! Unless of course you are not white, in which case you obviously don’t have to do shit!
Okay, punch a Nazi for me bye bye!