Friday, March 23, 2012

Real Housewives of OC: Hospitals and Helicopters

Welcome to another week of Orange County madness. LOVED all the comments on The Bunco Wars! And thanks for the shout outs, you guys! It’s my privilege to be here with you picking these people apart.

Remember last week how Tamra mentioned that she wanted to get her fake boobs taken out? Well it looks like she’s really serious about it because here she is at her plastic surgeon’s office to discuss the possibilities.

"We COULD reattach your lips down here..."

I love how these women have plastic surgeons like other people have dentists. I’m here for my six month nip-tuck! Tamra has decided that getting rid of her falsies will liberate her as a woman. It’s the final symbolic removal of Simon from her life. Simon wanted her to keep her boobs because they helped to balance out the Rolex he gave her. The Rolex cost $35,000. I know this because Simon announced it at the party where he gave it to her. Classy true love is alive and well in Orange County. There is wondrous news, and that is that Tamra has enough quality breast tissue to have nice perky boobs with no implants at all. The only thing Dr. Miracle here can’t do is graft some of her boob skin onto her finger to cover up her Simon ring tattoo. Nuts.

Alexis is about to be knocked out for her surgery and she tells us one last time how offended she is that people think she’s getting a nose job for cosmetic reasons. This is ALL ABOUT HER BREATHING, DO YOU UNDERSTAND??? Apparently Dr. Boobies is in on the insurance scam because he won’t shut up about how blocked Alexis’s airways are. He shows us her septum after he takes it out and holds up a bloody mucus plug, telling us emphatically that it’s the worst one he’s seen in a long time! Take note, United Healthcare. This surgery is completely legitimate and should be covered in full.

"Nurse, prepare the defibrillator. Clear!"

Jim comes to pick her up and would rather not see her face until it’s all better from this.

And at our third medical stop for the episode, Vicki is bawling outside the hospital where Briana had her surgery. Her son Mike comes to see how things are going and Vicki sobs that there were numerous nodules and it might be cancer! Spoiler alert: it’s not. (Thanks for the link, Robinez!) But Vicki is crying hysterically to her son. Note that Vicki is not inside the hospital comforting her daughter. She needs to get a grip.

"Mike, you're not a mother so you don't understand!"

Okay you lucky people. We’re headed once again to Billionaire’s Row. Heather is trying to impress her small children with sparkling apple cider. They don’t care and are just mad that there aren’t more bubbles. Then Heather works really hard transferring food from take-out containers to plates. She calls this “preparing food.” She’s telling her husband about looking at a space for the restaurant she and her girlfriends are going to open since there is nowhere acceptable to dine in Orange County, which makes me wonder which slop house provided the take-out she’s now feeding to her family. Terry and Heather then proceed to have a conversation about how hard it is to open a restaurant - especially when you have no experience and know nothing except to hand people their menus closed. But that’s okay because this is just a fun little hobby for Heather and her friends. Terry announces that it will cost about a million dollars and if it fails, whatever.

"Just as long as you're having a good time, honey!"

These people are horrible. Can you imagine how far a million dollars might go toward something worthwhile? Instead it’s Heather’s play money so that she and her friends can have something to do while the nannies are raising their children.

Let’s see what Gretchen is up to. First and foremost, she’s wearing a shirt that says “Team Slade” in rhinestones. You know Slade sat at her kitchen table hot gluing that together for her. Then charged her for his time since he was creating her wardrobe. Gretchen and Slade are at some venue meeting up with Robin Antin, the washed up old stripper who runs the Pussycat Dolls.

Please keep your clothes on.

Gretchen is super nervous because the Pussycat Dolls are serious business and it’s going to be hard to keep up with professional strippers. Oops I mean dancers. Slade pipes up about this amazing stage presence Gretchen possesses that will totally make up for her lack of talent. Robin’s not so sure, but she has them sit down to watch the Pussycat Dolls dancers in a dress rehearsal. They’re really good at shaking their scantily-clad butts in unison. And so what if I’m jealous of their perfect bodies? I have really good stage presence that makes up for any pudge I might allegedly have.

Clearly a class act.

Back to the hospital where Vicki is still outside on her cell phone. I wonder if she’s actually spent any time INSIDE the hospital or if she’s just been outside all day having hysterics for the cameras. She calls Tamra to tell her what an awful day she’s had. Tamra asks about Briana but Vicki wants to talk about herself. Her world is stopping right now. The walls are caving in, okay? FOCUS, TAMRA!

And later Tamra gets another call - this time from Heather. Heather would like to invite Tamra and Vicki to come to LA with her via helicopter to sit in on a business meeting she and her girlfriends are having about their imaginary restaurant. Tamra squeals that she’d love to soar over the 405 traffic all the way to the neighboring county.

A few days later, Vicki’s busy getting Briana settled into her apartment to recover so that she can hurry and change her clothes to go on Heather’s helicopter ride. Briana won’t come stay at Vicki’s house because she would actually like to recover in peace. But before Vicki leaves her to sleep, she has to stand over Briana tapping her and asking if she wants any of about 5,000 things. Water? Pills? More pillows? Air conditioning? Protein drink? Soup? A different outfit? Makeup?

"Wake up, Briana! Do you want different socks or not? Briana!"

Briana begs to be left alone to sleep and Vicki DOES have a helicopter to catch so she finally tells Briana she stinks and then leaves.

Someone who does NOT want to be left to recover in peace is Alexis, who has hired a nurse to stand around observing her rhinoplasty recuperation. It’s better if a specialist changes the bags of frozen peas on your face.

"Two years of nursing school for THIS? I knew I should have done nail school."

But first Jim wants a chance to try. So he makes fun of Alexis’s bandaged face then feeds her like two spoonfuls of soup before leaving it to the nurse. He’s got an insurance claim to file. All the nurse can think to do is tell Alexis she’ll be in and out of sleep for awhile, to which Alexis responds with a snore.

The nouveau riche commute in black tie.

And over at helicopter central, Heather, Tamra and Vicki arrive and lift off. When they land like 10 minutes later, Heather’s friends pull up in a limo to meet them. OMG, these women DEFINE trophy wives. Blonde, stick-thin, big boobs, plastered with makeup, spending their husbands’ money on opening a restaurant to keep themselves occupied. One of them tells this super interesting story about how her kids think everyone has helicopters and when seeing friends stuck in traffic, ask why they aren’t in their helicopters. Way to ground your children in reality there, Toots. By the way, I don’t get what’s so glamorous about helicopters. My husband and I took a helicopter ride on our honeymoon and we both got violently ill. Beautiful? Yes. Desirable commute method? No. Way to make yourself feel superior? Absolutely. Vicki discovers that there are six women involved in this restaurant venture and strongly suggests that they draw up a written agreement. Heather and the trophies laugh and say there’s no need because they’ve been friends simply forever. Mere millions of dollars won’t come between them!

The business meeting takes place at a restaurant called Porta Via in Beverly Hills. The owner has agreed to sit down with these women, presumably because it means that his restaurant will appear on television and we will all flock to dine there. I wonder if the waiters hand patrons their menus open or closed. The first thing Mr. Restaurant says is that they need to put an agreement in writing. LOL. Vicki gloats. They need to hire a consultant, a contractor, a designer, a chef, and a general manager. The trophies’ eyes glaze over, but Vicki is as alert as a hawk. She is certain this isn’t going to succeed, and she’s completely right. The trophies just want somewhere to eat where they don’t have to wait for a table. This is their long way around.

"So will we get to name cocktails after ourselves?"

Alexis is seeing Dr. Boobies for her post-surgical follow up and she’s wearing sunglasses and a fedora. WTF, Alexis? Bad hair day on top of everything else?

"Outsmarted the paparazzi again!"

She winces and squeals while Dr. Boobies checks her bandages and she complains about his description of his cosmetic handiwork. She didn’t want him to narrow her nose! She doesn’t want to LOOK LIKE she had a nose job! He’s like, ugh, you WON’T look like you had a nose job. We’ve talked about this! Go home and put your frozen peas back on. Oh yeah, and your mucus plugs were reaching critical mass, so this surgery saved your life.

Mr. Restaurant brings the gals a bottle of Cristal and Vicki and Tamra ask Heather and the trophies if they’re sure they want to take on such a huge project. In response, they go on and on about what dear friends they are to each other and how this idea just magically happened to all of them at the same time because there is nowhere good to eat in Orange County and they really just want a place to go and hang out together. So yes, they’re going to take it on. Plus, Heather’s used to being on a set 15 to 17 hours a day, and this is something she can do while her kids are at school. HA HA HA HA! Oh Heather, when was the last time you were on a set? Come ON!

Brooks calls in the middle of this nonsense and Vicki steps outside to tell him they need to buy a helicopter so that they can more easily travel between Mississippi and California. Um, I don’t think these kinds of helicopters are meant for transcontinental travel, Vicki. They’re more suited to dates on The Bachelor so that you can flutter two miles from the Hollywood Hills to downtown LA and rappel down the side of an office building. Don’t cancel your frequent flier account just yet.

In this week’s mini-scene Gretchen leans into a candle and sets her extensions on fire. Slade just wants to know when dinner will be ready.

"How long can it take to whip me up some mac and cheese? Do I have to do everything?"

And back in LA, it’s time for the ladies without husbands to head back to Orange County so that the married ladies can meet their cash machines for dinner. Tamra can’t get over the fact that Heather and the trophies weren’t fighting the whole time they were together. That’s because they’re really friends Tamra, not just castmates put together for the combustive factor of their personalities. They’ve bonded over common excessive funds and delusions of grandeur. Vicki reminds Tamra that this is a really hard time for her since her daughter just had surgery and might have cancer. Tamra’s having a hard time, too, because she has to hurry and sign her divorce papers next week so she can move in with Eddie. And they’re both mad that they have to take the peasants’ limo back down to Orange County and leave the helicopter for the rich folk. Poor, poor housewives.

"Isn't it funny how everyone wishes they were us?"

Next week! Alexis uses her recovery period to plan a confrontation with Tamra. There is some sort of race and Tamra signs her divorce papers. Chicken breast for everyone!

So are we all going to eat at Heather’s restaurant? Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Thanks for reading!
-Honey Gangsta

1 comment:

Nose Surgery Orange County said...

House wives have also started to follow this trend. Although, it has become the need of professionals who get treated on prior basis. I feel that there are few institutions to guide them when and why it need. Especially how you can be saved from the complications of it.