Real Housewives of Orange County Recap – 8/22/16

It takes a very special form of bile-spewing creature to make it into the Top Five Worst Housewives of All Time in less than a season, but Kelly Dodd – assh*le extraordinaire – has managed to reach that pinnacle. She’s already proven she has what she so succinctly coins “anger issues” that rival the table-flipping rage of felon Theresa Giudice. She’s also mastered the fine art of furious projection previously made famous by Professional Victim, Kim Richards, in that she strikes out both blindly and cruelly at anyone in her airspace just to take the focus off her own disgraceful behavior. (Kelly might also drink as much as Kim did in Kim’s sickest heyday.) It’s difficult, actually, to choose the very worst thing Kelly has done so far this season since her behavior thus far has mirrored that of a third grade sociopath stricken down with both a superiority complex and insanity, but I suppose it’s nice that we have a choice. So which terrible action was the very worst? Was it when Kelly shrieked “C*nt!” and “Dumb f*ck!” across a dinner table while proclaiming herself “an amazing mother”? Might it have been the moment she told Shannon she was ugly with a sick smile smeared across her face? How about the way she’s decided Vicki Gunvalson is awesome and just slightly misunderstood? These are, of course, all excellent options for anointing Kelly with a crown made out of dogsh*t and her own broken dreams, but the single grossest thing I think she’s done went down in the final two minutes of last week’s show, after she’d already made Regan in The Exorcist sound like a Disney Princess. Yes, Kelly insulted half the people at the table with filthy epithets, tried to then hug her victims, announced she doesn’t need to suck d*ck because she’s a multimillionaire who’s never had to develop a gag-reflex, and smiled serenely at Vicki, her soul sister. All of that was despicable, but the worst of it was in the aftermath, when she decided it would be hilarious to make fun of Heather’s mannerisms and voice because all that action proved was that this very sick woman has not – and may never – learn a single thing. She’s shown herself to be as idiotic as the black stools upholstered with muppet fur lining one of the twelve bars in her home and I fear nothing short of an exorcism that comes with a complimentary brain transplant can save her now.

As for the rest of our Housewives (who should collectively and immediately demand raises for having to be associated with this demonic entity), my guess is they’re all dealing with some PTSD from what went down at the very worst Pre-Insemination Party in our country’s history. While none of this was captured on camera, I imagine Tamra channeled her shock by working tirelessly with her trainer to start a new prayer group expressly meant to save Kelly Dodd’s warped soul in between learning the proper way to do lunges in front of judges while wearing a bedazzled bikini. I assume Heather scheduled an emergency meeting with her contractors and demanded they build her a bunker adjacent to the porte-cochere where she can hide out from the lunatic just in case Kelly ever shows up unannounced to try to give her a hug. There’s no doubt Vicki is just thrilled someone else is loathed nearly as much as she is. And Shannon? It’s pretty clear Shannon thinks Kelly is a waste of f*cking space and wants nothing to do with her anymore, which obviously means Shannon Beador is my newest spirit animal and the owl that was my previous spirit animal can now suck it.

Tonight’s episode begins with Meghan in the fertility clinic with her mother. Her husband is nowhere to be found, but maybe he’ll deign to make it to the actual birth of their child. He does, however, answer the phone when she calls him from the examination room to discuss whether or not she should go ahead and implant two embryos inside her uterus, though he’s pulling for the male embryo so there can one day be a Little Jimmy Edmonds scampering about this great land. As the procedure gets underway, Meghan muses that she never imagined her husband would not be in the room with her as she got pregnant. Then the doctor tells her she should not have intercourse for the next twelve days, something that should be no problem whatsoever since Meghan is married to a man who is not only absent, but also appears not to be able to stand her.

Across town and still haunted by dining with a heathen, Heather meets up with Tamra at a cute little place where her daughter can make a book with her own original story. Heather explains that she was willing to overlook Kelly’s horrific behavior at Shannon’s party as perhaps just a drunken aberration, but now she sees no other option than to distance herself from the pig. Tamra, however, has reached deep into her soul and only feels badly for Kelly. She realizes this is a woman who is just not okay (which means the producer who cast Kelly will get a huge bonus) and something must have happened in Kelly’s life to make her want to lash out and verbally maim those around her. Hearing this overt compassion, Heather compliments Tamra for her newfound kindness but continues to maintain that she would rather be anywhere on the planet than beside a woman who bellows the word “C*nt!” over appetizers.

Speaking of the Creature From Newport Beach, Kelly has managed to stifle her anger issues for a fraction of a second in order to stop by Meghan’s house with a gift that’s meant to wish the impregnated one well while also possibly absolving herself of her sins from the evening before. Meghan greets her warmly, shows off her ultrasound, announces she’s high on Valium, and then tells Kelly outright how wrong she was the night before and that she’s on Shannon’s side since Shannon wasn’t the one shouting derogatory words across a dinner table. Right away, Kelly admits she feels terribly about her actions – but how many times can someone lose her f*cking mind onscreen and then apologize for her actions? Five times? Twenty times? I mean, at what point do these apologies stop meaning anything? At what point does watching Kelly’s eyes flood with tears make someone feel sorry for her, because I’m far beyond that point already and I don’t even know the woman in real life. I’m proud of Meghan in this scene for being blunt and honest. (I’m also proud of her for not telling Kelly how hideous the cropped leather jacket she’s wearing is, for that might be a bit too cruel at this particular moment.) By the way, Kelly’s excuse for her behavior is she’s never dealt “with girls like this.” Um, I’d just like to reiterate here that The Real Housewives is not a new franchise and this particular installment has been up and running for close to a f*cking decade. This show has never even pretended to be about weaving friendship bracelets and singing Kumbaya around a bonfire. This is a show where women are paid to antagonize one another in fancy houses and on tropical getaways, so to maintain that you didn’t expect this sort of behavior would be like me going on Bachelor in Paradise and expecting to walk away without a sunburn and a raging case of chlamydia. It’s an excuse that just doesn’t fly and I do not feel the slightest bit sorry for Kelly and I will therefore not be joining Tamra to pray that this woman’s blackened soul one day turns a fluffy shade of pink. I’ll instead spend my time praying for things that are far more important and more likely to come to pass, like eventually getting my very own pony and finding a guy who doesn’t sweat on my pillowcases in the dead of night while the air conditioner blasts away.

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