Warning: this post is a little Fatal Attraction-y

Early on Saturday morning (2:31 am to be exact) I received the following email:

I didn't see it until Saturday evening, at which point I yipped excitedly and ran around my chair a few times.  I haven't yet written about Cindy Barshop but she knew that I loved her.  She knew it! 

Even before the Frette monogrammed bathrobe episode, I admired her for many reasons--her knee sock-boot thing, her dancing with Sonja's servant and her general handlement of Ramoner.  Oh, and her hair!  I can't wear bangs to save my life and there's Cindy Barshop, just walking around Manhattan with bangs that will make you want to slap your hairdresser.  HARD. 

See?  The fact that Cindy Barshop was following me validated my entire twitter experience and to a certain point, my existence.

In the short span of time between reading this email and then heading to twitter to follow her back (that I did not already follow her was mere oversight on my part), I had planned a weekend trip to New York City in which I would throw a toaster oven through Sonja's window, get a vatoo, and stay up until the wee hours of the morning dancing wildly to drumbeats, all with Cindy.  My new best friend.  

But when I arrived on twitter, I discovered that she had already unfollowed me.

What did I do, Cindy?  WHAT DID I DO?  I go over it and over it in my head and I can't figure it out. 

Was this the equivalent of a Ramoner drunken text?  Was this a drunken follow?  When you woke up, did you feel ashamed?  I know I am a lame tweeter.  I KNOW THAT, CINDY.  But I am a real person with real feelings.  Feelings that used to be hopefulness and excitement but are now confusion and utter despair.

You know when I said up there that I had not yet written about you?  That was a lie.  I wrote a poem about you after the Pecking Order episode.  It is still in draft form but I have to say, it's pretty damn good.  Too bad no one will ever see it...although I might be persuaded with a follow on twitter.*  It's up to you.

In other news, I just saw that Vicki and Donn have not had sex for 2 years?!  Not even through all of that recommittment bullshit we had to sit through???  Are you surprised? 

 I have to say, I am.

*And a monogrammed Frette bathrobe.

Back on the market and advertising the goods!

Who's buying?  Anyone?

Speaking of the goods,

Did you see that Bravo has announced a new show starring Jeff Lewis?  Mmmm hmmmmmmmm!

Fight On

No Real Housewives of Orange County recap this week.  I'm in straight Vicki Gunvalson mode--working. But you are in luck.  One of my all-time favorite commenters, marriedtoachimp, has started a blog, Brass Tacks and Silver Charms.  !!!!!  Head on over there to check it out, and you will be rewarded with some RHOC/Motley Crue commentary (the best kind). 

Two of my other favorite blogs that might be flying under your radar right now:  Just Say Maux and Merci Blah Blah.

In closing, I would like to dedicate this post to the brave, skinny little straps on Vicki's top. 

Is there any doubt that they are going to lose that tug of war?  No.  They were never meant to hold that kind of load.  But they are trying hard, hanging on until the last thread pops.

"You down with G-O-D? Yeah you know me..."

Someone has written this song, right?  If not, I will.  And then I will perform it with perhaps a little autotune.   

As my friend Leslie said to me today, Real Housewives of Orange County is classic television.  It is the original, the trailblazer, the show that led to all of the Housewife mutations and many, many bonuses for the whiskey-sipping Andy Cohen.  Vicki is the one constant on this show--the cockroach, if you will--the one who survives every single season and comes back for more.  In a one-shouldered shirt at work, no less. 

 

My feelings for Vicki are complicated, but I can tell you that I love to watch her.  I even felt a little bit protective of her when Donn called her a dumbfuck (which really disappointed me, by the way.  You're better than that, Donn Gunvalson). 

I will not be recapping this episode but I do want to hear your opinions.  Did you feel a strange shift of allegiances while watching?  I went from disliking Alexis to kind of admiring her--not only for disciplining her kids on camera, but for standing up to Gretchen, who was being a total drunk a-hole to everyone.  Even calling God "the G-O-D," Alexis showed a glimmer of humor that was heretofore non-existent.  Also she looked really pretty in that maxi-dress.

I've always been on Gretchen's side in her war against Tamra, but she was super mean and nasty at the shopping party.  I just kept wondering, why are you even there, Gretchen?  If you hate her and you can't forget, WHY ARE YOU EVEN AT TAMRA'S (BOYFRIEND'S) HOUSE?  But then I remembered that this was a tv show.  Then I cried for a little bit during commercials. 

"Hey topless bartender?  Yeah, I'm going home to Slade so I'm gonna need like, 5 more drinks." 

Tamra claims she is SO HAPPY!  SO FREE!  when she clearly is not.  Am I right? 

I would also like to hear your thoughts on Bethenny Ever After (I am ashamed by how much I love that show) and Real Housewives of Miami (I washed my hands of it when Cristy asked Adriana, "does he make your bed rock?").

And now I must take my leave.  My good friend, interior designer and massage therapist Harvey Millstein, sent me a telegram this morning informing me that he has been contacted by a Mr. Fong Chong.  Mr. Chong apparently emailed Harvey because he needs help in "distributing an amount of 10.6,Million(usd)."  As Harvey wrote, "Mr Chong assures me that any anal hiding should last no more than a week to 10 days STOP"  I need to help him craft his response so he doesn't fuck this up.

You're now down with a discount!  Whatever that means.

(click through to the blog if you can't see the video)

Look what the turd factory burped up!

Oy.

I binged on two and a half hours of Bravo last night and have a nasty hangover, so I'm going to let you do all of the talking about Part 2 of the RHOC reunion.  What did you think about the husbands?  What about Slade as punching bag?  When he kept screwing up his timelines and Andy was calling him on it, weren't those silences deafening?  I am sore from cringing so much.  I have to admit that when Vicki started to throw her tantrum, I turned it off and slipped in the sweet oblivion of a Sex and the City rerun.  Vicki sucks ASS.   

What about Nene and Jill on WWHL?  Nene looked like she had borrowed her entire outfit from Gene Simmons circa 1978, which was kind of AWESOME. But her make-up!  It was blinding in its iridescence and gloss.   

I know some of you already commented on these matters in the previous post--thank you.  You bitches are really on the ball.  The rest of you, let it fly right here.  Adios, RHOC.

UPDATE:  Also see the new jefflewisdesign.com.