Friday, July 20, 2012

Women, Sex, & 50 Shades of Male Stripper Madness: A Look at the Phenomenon

I’ve been staring at my computer screen all day reading about the horrendous details of the Colorado shooting that occurred this morning.  I can’t take it anymore, so I’ve decided to write a blog entry about something I have been wanting to vent about for a while.  It has nothing to do with the housewives, but everything to do with housewives. 
Two months ago, my Book Club (Barbie’s Dream Book Club, Book Club BarbieTM) chose 50 Shades of Grey as our book of the month.  Before that, we read thought-provoking books about women’s strength in adversity such as She’s Come Undone by Wally Lamb, and The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver.  I was surprised when we chose 50 Shades, as I had heard some tidbits about it and wondered what sort of a discussion it would render.  Don’t get me wrong, those of you who know me personally know I have NO problem discussing sex in blushing detail (sorry Mom), but I also don’t like to waste my reading on crap books, so I wondered how good this one was given all the hype.
When I began reading, as I writer, I was completely turned off.  For starters, I did not relate to the main character at all, or any characters for that matter.  Anastasia is a hum drum, wah wahhhh college senior who happens to meet this mysterious guy when her roommate who was supposed to interview him comes down with a cold and sends her in her place.  None of these characters have much depth at all, and for a journalist wannabe, a twenty-something millionaire, and someone who is supposed to be at least smart enough to get through college, they have painfully limited vocabularies.   
Let me touch on that really quick because I’m not going to give you a full plot run-through, especially since I only got about 1/3 into the book before cursing it and throwing it out the damn window of my Dreamhouse.  I’m about to give you a rundown on the vocabulary that nearly drove me insane.  You are not ready for this, but read on anyway.  Actually make yourself a cocktail, I’ll wait.
1.       The word “muttered.”  Someone might mutter once in a book.  Someone does not mutter thirty-nine times in the first 127 pages of a book.  It’s called a thesaurus Ms. James, and if you can’t think of a different way to say the same thing, it can really come in handy.  I had to read about “She muttered this,” and “He muttered that,” and then they muttered to each other, and then he muttered to her “sex” (we’ll get to that in a moment) and then the sheep muttered to the other sheep, “I don’t want to be mutton,” and then I muttered to my razor blade, “Kill me if I have to hear the word ‘muttered’ again.”  The word muttered is NOT sexy.  It’s not tingle-provoking, it doesn’t make me wonder or lust.  It makes me want to say, “What?!?!  What the fuck did you say???  SPEAK UP.”  You would have thought this guy was Rain Man with all the gawddamn muttering he did.
2.       The word “sex” used in place of any other synonym for vagina.  What.The.Fuck. you guys.  One of my main issues with this Anastasia chick is that she’s not only a virgin at the age of 24 (let’s face it, that’s weird) but she also talks like she’s five years old until she starts doing the nasty after which she says things that would make even the most seasoned porn star gasp in horror (apparently, I didn’t actually make it that far).  So when she first starts having this Christian dude put his P in her V, she calls her V her sex as in:
“And then he moved his mouth down my stomach and began to blow softly up my sex.” (Not an actual quote, but it’s something pretty close to that)
Your what??  He blew into your who??  I mean, last time you were in that -ahem- position, were you like, “Yeah, yeah, give it to me right in my sex!”  NO ONE SAYS THAT.  How am I supposed to be turned on by this when I’m trying to figure out why in the holiest of all hells she’s calling her vagina her sex?!?  That’s not all you guys, which brings me to number three.
3.       Anastasia’s “inner- goddess.”  This is also her vagina folks.  You heard me.
I admit I didn’t even get to the sadomasochistic sex because I couldn’t read this woman’s HORRIBLE writing, not one more word of it.  I did get through some of the “vanilla” sex which was unpleasant (see #1, 2, & 3) and I did get to “The Contract.”  If you read this atrocity, you know what I’m referring to. 

The mysterious 28 year old (was he 29? 27? Who gives a shit) uber wealthy businessman Anastasia decides to give up her virginity to after waiting her whole life, digs the whole S&M thing almost as much if not more than Rhianna.  He only has unattached sex with women who will sign a contract giving him three months of their lives to act as the “Submissive” to his “Dominant.”  This contract is 50 Shades of WHACK.  She has to eat a ton of healthy food, not drink any booze (the audacity of him to ask her to let him beat her senseless with a belt without any booze in her system!), get eight hours of sleep every night, do ANYTHING he says when he says to do it, and not talk to other men at all ever.  It’s pretty much like being in prison, minus the health food part.  And she signs it.  See why I can’t relate to this woman?  She holds out on sex until her knight in shining armor rides in on his white horse, and gives her a contract saying he can put it anywhere he wants and shove a hedgehog up her butt if it so strikes his fancy.   How utterly romantic. 
But I digress.  My point is, why is this so hot again?  Is it the nipple clamps?  Is it the butt plugs??  Ladies, can we at least set higher standards on the writing in our chosen smut novels???  Can we demand the term “muttered” just never be used?  I’m perplexed as to why, in this day and age, this book is making the author (who by the way said on national television that her readers were basically horny idiots) something like 25 million dollars a week.  Should I write a smut book about S&M?  Is it the S&M that is getting these housewives so hot and bothered?  Should I just write:
“And then he muttered into her sex, ‘I’m going to put the nipple clamps on now,” and then she muttered, ‘Yes, nipple clamps.”   * standing ovation*
I would just luuuurve to make 25 million dollars a week and move Ken and I to some private island in the Caribbean where we can nipple clamp each other until they fall off and we use them as big game fishing bait.  Barbie’s Dream Island- nipple clamps sold separately.
And this brings me to my actual point.  I’m concerned that between this gawd-awful book and the movie “Magic Mike,” my fellow womenfolk are not having enough real life sex, or at least not enjoying it enough.  You should have seen the outpouring of luuuurve on my Facebook page from all the ladies for the male-stripper movie starring Dumb and Dumber.  Ladies, men out there, real ones with real-life penises, would LOVE to be having sex with you.  You can do the same thing Anastasia did with Captain Disturbia.  You can!  There are all kinds of dudes out there willing to get weird.  And we have the internet now so you don’t even have to put any effort into finding them!  The odd thing for me are the women who have men at home, who would rather read about sex than have it.  Really ladies?  Do women not like actual sex as much as they like the idea of sex?  Is it that the fantasy is all too often much better than the reality?  Is that it??  Are you not getting what you want?  Take a page out of Christian Grey’s book and write out a contract, draw the lines clearly.  Men don’t understand subtle hints.

I see nothing attractive about men dancing around naked.  I can’t remember if Ken’s ever danced around naked for me, but if he has, I guarantee we were laughing hysterically.  Has feminism swung too far to the other side of the pendulum to where we want to objectify men as they have objectified us for centuries?  Does that give us a feeling of power?  I saw a picture of Channing Tatum when he was actually a stripper (yep, he used to be an actual male stripper) and he looked about 50 Shades of meth-ed out.  Not hawt.

Please note these are only my opinions and that I’m not judging any of you.  I know it sounds like I’m judging, but I’m made of plastic so try not to worry too much about it.  Some of my dearest friends ranted and raved about these sources of entertainment.  Even Skipper (who is a brilliant and completely rational person who I luuuuuuuuuurve) begged me, pleaded with me to go to the midnight showing of “Magic Mike” (Sidenote: I’m never going to a movie theater again).  A MIDNIGHT SHOWING.  Do you know what Ken would have done had I told him I wanted to go see a midnight showing of “Magic Mike”? 

He probably would have done a naked silly dance as he nipple-clamped me to the bed and issued me a good flogging because THAT my friends is what you need when you think you need to see sweaty guys flinging around their junk in the middle of the night. 
To the middle aged housewives out there spending quality time in the bath tub reading about Christian Grey’s rules while sipping on a glass of wine that your husband brought you: Have filthy, raunchy sex with your husband.  He’d love that, and I guarantee afterwards you won’t give two shits about any muttering or anyone else’s inner goddess but yours.
I realize that I did not see “Magic Mike” and I did not read all of 50 Shades of Grey, nor did I read the other two books in the series which my lady friends swear are better than the first.  Since I am not going to see “Magic Mike” in this lifetime, and I’m never picking up 50 Shades of anything ever again, it was kind of now or never on this.  Also, it did take my mind off of the fact that sometimes this world is so ugly and tragic that you just want to read a lousy smut book, or watch some unintelligible naked guys dance.  Ahhhhhhhhhhh, now I get it.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Stolen Jobs, Stolen Hearts, & Stolen Secrets: A True Tale from the OC

Welcome back Friends.  At the request of my former Canadian roommate, I am blogging the reunion; mostly the second part because it was thrilling.  For the record, Canadians make the BEST roommates ever.  You cannot anger them, no matter how cray you are, not that I am of course.  I am an angel.  Angel Barbie.  Anyway, shall we begin?...

Heather vs. Bubbies
You all know I am a Heather fan, and not so much a Bubbies fan, though she makes for pretty excellent TV.  On this whole “phony” argument, bringing up the crew was an interesting tidbit we didn’t know before.  This is what I love about the reunions.  OK, so the people at Nordstroms, Neiman’s, and Saks all say Bubbies treats them like her minions, according the Heather and some of the other ladies.  As I type this I realize how much I don’t care *sigh*.  But just in case you do:  I can see how hearing that, paired with seeing the poor treatment of the crew would bring about a talk from the other ladies.  But honestly, if she doesn’t get it, throw in the towel.  Bubbies, Jim-God love her, is just not that bright.  I don’t think she’s being malicious, she’s just kind of, well, dumb.  Which is fine!  Bubbies grew up in Missouri with dreams of being a California buxom blonde with a rich husband.  Two outta three ain’t bad as they say.  So maybe she does stick up her nose to the people who help her try on shoes.  Maybe she used to be the shoe salesperson in ol’ BoeDunk, MO and people treated her like crap and now she wants to get back at the shoe world.  I don’t think she’s smart enough to harbor ill feelings though quite honestly. 

Bubbies lives in Bubbiesland where nose jobs run free and Princess/Puppy Parties are the appropriate place to tell your gruesome birth story.  Heather, you are not playing on even ground my dear, let’s just leave poor Bubbies alone.  And that’s what Heather finally did.  Tamra on the other hand, screamed at her and called her “Jesus Jugs.”  Always with the tag lines, that one.  I bet that pissed more than one or two Christians off something fierce.

Gretchen vs. Bubbies
Again, Bubbies never stood a chance.  Let’s start with the Fox Five Scandal.  I had to stand up and cheer when Gretchen busted out the telling emails BECAUSE in all the reunions in all the cities, of all the times one of these harpies has exclaimed, “And I have the emails to prove it!” Gretchen is the first to actually pull the emails out of a magical couch pillow with her perfect manicure and bitch-slap Bubbies with them.  The emails were fairly vague.  They basically hinted that Fox Five had asked Gretchen to do basically the same thing as Bubbies, but before Bubbies was offered the position, so pretty much exactly what Gretchen had said.  Bubbies then presented emails from months later asking if they had offered any other OC housewife the position.  This is where my “Bubbies ain’t that bright” argument comes into play.  The email (from someone who was not the same person who emailed Gretchen) said that they would not offer the position to anyone else.  Ok…that doesn’t really address the issue, but in Bubbies tiny mind that put it to rest.  When the knocking on Bubbies brain got so loud she had to answer the damn door, she finally relented that, regardless of whether or not Gretchen was offered the position, there was a better way to go about telling her than the way Gretchen did.  This I agree with.  Gretchen could have done this off camera, or broken it to her more easily then a stoic, “I’m glad you got to do this since they were trying to get me to do it instead.”  It came across to me that Gretchen was already annoyed by Bubbies’ behavior at that point.  The major reason that I think Gretchen is telling the truth of Bubbies’ change in behavior once she became friends with Tamra: Peggy Tanous.  AND Gretchen got along with Heather!  It was too much for Bubbies to handle, and Bubbies can handle a lot.  I mean look at those boom booms.
The best part of this battle was when Gretchen said something that I can’t even remember, and then Bubbies was like, “Well you have fake hair and fake lips and you lie about that!”  Gretchen had to admit that she had her lips plumped by more than her make-up line’s lip plumper.  Gretch, honey, that’s like being at alcoholics’ anonymous and having to admit you’re an alcoholic.  Shake it off. 
Tamra vs. Bubbies

Tamra’s Hair:  “You are PSYCHOTIC Jesus Jugs!!!”

Bubbies’ Jugs:  “Hey, what did we do??”

Ok this is where it starts getting good.

Brooks vs. Tamra
Why does Vicki look like she’s about to walk into a Venus Fly Trap wearing nothing but a thong?  Because Brooks is coming out to face the ladies and she knows this ain’t gonna be fun.  How many of us wish this reunion aired after the 20/20 special on Brooks (everyone raises their hand).  OK, so Brooks came out to battle Tamra’s hair.  He was as goofy as ever.  He said his “southern charm” is what causes him to come across as less than genuine, and is the reason he constantly affirms Vicki with his daily affirmations.  It’s because he’s southern ya’ll!  Now, as far as his affections for Vicki: Who couldn’t love a controlling, cray-ass lady who works all the time and tells everyone what to do and how to do it and tells you what to pack, how to dress, to get your teeth done cause you look like a hick meth addict, provides you with a car and spending money and humps your brains out because it’s been twenty years since she’s gotten any?  WOOHOO!  Love ya Vick.
In all fairness, when any of the rest of us hate our best friend’s boyfriends we do the normal thing and talk shit about them to our other best friends and wait it out until our best friend comes to her senses and dumps his ass, and THEN talk shit about him to her.  Vicki has a few things going against her:
1.        She chose Tamra as a best friend.  This broad isn’t exactly known for keeping her opinions to herself.
2.       Vicki gave everyone else SO much shit about their men (Slade, Jim-God, Simon, Matt Keough) that it literally PAINS them to not give her shit back.
3.       Briana doesn’t like Brooks which makes it legit in my mind because, as Dame Andy Cohen said, Briana hasn’t not made sense since the moment we met her.
Tamra confronts Brooks about the Evil Eye fiasco.  She points out that he said “Evil Eye” instead of rolling her eyes, which is DIFFERENT.  And any of us loyal viewers know “Evil Eye” is a sore spot for Ms. Barney.  Tams tells Brooks he’s not a woman and should act like a man.  Brooks tells Tamra taking love advice from her is like taking financial advice from someone who is bankrupt.  Taking love or financial advice from either of these two is like asking your gold fish if he thinks you should take the job and move to Atlanta or stay because your boyfriend wants to be closer to his family. 
The best part of this battle was when Brooks said he was “protecting his lady.”  And Tamra asked, “From an eye roll?!?!”  And you could see his little hamster wheel spinning thinking, “That does sound so stupid but I’m in it up to my ears now…” and then he forced out a meek, “Yes.”

Briana vs. Vicki
Brooks won’t sit out there with Briana because he knows she’s going to ask him the tough questions like, “What do you ACTUALLY do for a living?” and “How many kids do you ACTUALLY have?” so he exits and she comes out.  Briana’s pregnant if you didn’t know.  Vicki threw her a wedding sans Housewives, + one crook.  Briana answers all of Andy’s blah blah boring questions and then it starts getting good.  She says her and the Mister are living in Coto with Vicki, as is Donn because Vicki needs help with the mortgage.  This wasn’t ok for Jeana Kough, but it is for Vicki, see how that works?  Anywhoo, Brooks isn’t allowed to live there while Briana does because he gives her a case of the uber creeps.  She basically says he can’t answer direct questions and avoids her as much as possible.  That’s what con men do Briana, it’s not personal.  Then Vicki says some defensive bullshit and Briana outs that she was basically having some sort of affair with Brooks before it was officially over with Donn.  She tells how Vicki would leave the room and get a text from Brooks, “I love you, Happy Thanksgiving.”  That DOES sound like Brooks.  His Card of the Day read:
“Vicki, as I stare at this beheaded turkey before me, I am overcome with love for you.  For as this turkey has squawked his last gobble, my love for you is neverending.  Like the gravy on my mashed potatoes, lust for you flows freely through my veins.  It will never dry out like this stuffing.  You are the green beans to my casserole.  Also, I need to borrow your car next Tuesday.     Shouting my Love from  Rooftops, Brooks”
Next came a revelation that shocked me to my plastic core.  In retaliation for Briana spilling the beans on Vicki’s pre-break-up hook-up, Vicki word-vomited, “Well my husband’s been having an affair for twenty years!”  OH NO SHE DI’N’T.  Not our Donn!!  Not our pug-loving, khaki-shorts wearing, river-going Donn!!  The only affair Donn’s been having for twenty years is with Corona Light!  I refuse to see Donn as an adulterer.  The man cries when he’s happy for Jim-God’s sake!!  But alas, Tamra and Briana confirm it is so.  They nod their heads solemnly, Tamra’s weave considering jumping ship when her head is in the down position and the leap off the couch doesn’t seem so daunting.  Gretchen is fuming because she was the Scarlet Letter-wearing of the gang just moments ago, but now no more.  Vicki, always one to deflect blame, then accused Tamra of dating Eddie before she moved out on Simon.  Vicki honey, the blonde with the crazy eyes and the Loni Anderson hair sitting across from you is named Tamra.  She is from the side of the tracks you do not mess with.  She will f**k you up, Coto.  And that is exactly what she did with this verbal grenade:
BOOM.  Did you guys feel that?  That was the demise of a friendship right there.  The ladies have officially entered verbal warfare.  That made Bubbies’ tattle on Gretchen’s lips look like a whole-lotta-nothin’.  Vicki freaked out of course, told Tamra she was disgusting, and then Tamra pointed to Briana’s tummy and shouted, “SWEAR ON THAT BABY’S LIFE!”  Jesus Jugs Tamra, you had to bring an unborn baby into it?  Speaking of Jesus Jugs, Bubbies got her two cents in when she said to Tamra, “Well you were in a bath tub on TV with your boyfriend before you were legally divorced!”  Oh heyyyyy Bubbies’ brain!  Every once in a while…there you are. 
The Point According to Barbie
The point is:  None of these ladies have room to talk about any of this shit.  But since they’re on a TV show and their contract requires it, here we all are.  Talk about schadenfreude you guys, this one was a whopper.  It was like Tyson vs. Holyfield, but with fillers.  I can’t wait to see what’s in store for us next season.  I, for one, will miss you cray OC betches.  I’ll drink blue cheese dirty martini’s (which Briana outed as Vicki’s only on-camera signature drink- I knew it!) and count the days until your return.
Until I post RHNY my friends…

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Yummy Tummy vs. Pinot Grigio: Londongate Strikes Again

Oh heyyyyyy friends.  Happy Tuesday!  Nope, you’re not dreaming.  I am blogging New York, and I must say I’m rather excited about it.  Now that Orange County is coming to a close, I have more plastic brain capacity for our East Coast ladies antics.  So let us begin…

First of all, Princess Carole Radziwill (pictured above) is my favorite housewife of all time.  That is all for my first of all.

We open with Aviva, our new member of the group who has a prosthetic leg, a mountain of anxieties, and one of the best wardrobes I have ever seen.  She is meeting with Heather, our other newbie, whose smile genuinely frightens me and I have to look away sometimes.  Below you will find Skipper’s contribution to this blog entry- she worked a long time on this side by side:
You’re welcome, says Skipper.
The ladies meet in a park, which it seems that they luuuurrve to do.  There is already big drama because Heather invited all the ladies from the cast to London to join her on an extended work trip EXCEPT Ramona who she doesn’t like because Ramona told her she talks too much (she does) and she makes Heather uncomfortable.  Now, we all know Ramona is looney tunes, bat shit cray cray, BUT come on Heather.  Really?  That’s a pretty major move pretty early in the game.  Either this chick is not that bright, luuuurves to stir shit up, or has a set of balls on her that could choke a donkey.  I think it’s all of the above.
Aviva tries to explain to Heather that the whole “exclude only Ramona” thing was a bitch move, given as she invited the whole rest of the cast.  Heather’s argument is that she doesn’t want to be uncomfortable or embarrassed on this trip, and she thinks Ramona will make her feel both.  She will!  But you signed up to be on this show, so you better get used to being uncomfortable and embarrassed betch! HOLLA

If you remember anything about my NY blog last season, you know I find it difficult to stomach the Countess DeLesseps.  Well this feeling was multiplied times ten and sprinkled with bath salts last night when we were forced to watch her go through acupuncture to make her Mertle more fertile, and listen to her talk about her and Juju Magoo’s baby-making habits.  I mean honestly LuAnn.  At 47 years old, by all means do what you gotta do but do we have to talk about it???  Also, I feel the strong need to point out that she told the doc that she and Pepe le Pew have been trying to make babies for two years, but she JUST asked her daughter if that was cool last week for the cameras.  So without much detail since I did fast forward through this scene of awkward tingles, you should know that LuAnn and Zou Bisous are trying to have a baby without IVF, and are having a great time doing it. (Le barf)

I luuuuuuuuuurve me some Sonja Morgan, my GAWD that woman is zany.  She’s the best kind too because she knows she is!  Sonja Morgan needs minions, and a tiny army of them at that.  Sonja Morgan scurries about in her pjs, spouting out half-instructions to each minion intern who doesn’t know why they are working for someone who doesn’t seem to ever be working, but who do not care because damn, she is entertaining.  Sonja Morgan gets checks for a dollar from American Express, takes poop pills on national TV and doesn’t give a fuuuuuuck, and drinks tap water everywhere she goes because she used to own five houses, a yacht, and 75 staff members yet is too cheap for Pellegrino now that she’s bankrupt.
Sonja Morgan meets Aviva for drinks to discuss their mutual affinity for blouses with bows on them which my Ken fondly refers to as “pirate shirts” when I wear them (anything with a large sleeve gets, “I see you’re wearing a flying squirrel shirt today”) and whether or not Ramona and Sonja had a real fight at Sonja’s soiree.  This is the reason we adore our dearest Sonja Morgan, because Sonja Morgan simply states, “Ramona was just being Ramona.  She lets me be me and I let her be her.”  Ahhhh that was a nice breath of fresh air.  Aviva shared her affection for Ramona and her desire to not make her feel excluded, and Sonja Morgan was like, “Umm, is this tap water?  Do you know?  Because I only drink tap water.”
Onto my favoritest favorite, and not only because she’s a princess.  Carole goes on a date with a dude who takes an awkward amount of time to process everything she says.  It’s probably due to the language barrier, but also may be due to the fact that we find out he is around fifteen years than our witty princess.  She sips her drink and asks the edgy questions like the seasoned journalist that she is:

Princess:  What do you do?
Date:  (15 second pause)  I design men’s fashion.
Princess:  And you’ve never been married?  Are you gay??
Date: (15 second pause) No.  I’ve been asked to design clothes for Rick Perry.
Princess:  Oh my god, you’re not a Republican are you?
Date:  (15 second pause) No, I’m a pussy.
Princess to camera:  Did he just say pussy?
Date:  (15 second pause) I’m spussy.  No that’s not the word. (Is he saying specific?  Picky? Democrat?  WTF)
At the end of the date she found out he was 31 and then it all made sense.  The date was mostly research for her newest book anyway so no sweat off Carole’s back: she’s as cool as a cat, as she puts it.  Ahhhh I’m thrilled to welcome to the pack: A cool, laid back, incredibly smart, hippie-minded, democratic, chic, stylish, beautiful, potty-mouthed, downtown, tells-it-like-it-is, no drama Princess.
Speaking of which, Carole meets Ramona downtown for a drink before they meet up with Heather and Aviva for a shopping date Heather scheduled as a peace-offering for not inviting Ramona to London (that will go over well, I’m sure).  Ramona asks Carole how she should handle Heather, but of course we know all of Ramona’s questions are rhetorical.  She knows all the answers already, obvi.  Carole says she would not worry about it, and to not approach Heather to discuss on the shopping trip.  She suggests Ramona just try to be nice and show her what she’ll be missing not having her in London.  Of course this went through one end of Ramona’s pinot glass and out the other.  Ramona knows she’s going to do something on this ominous shopping trip, but what yet, we cannot be sure…

Aviva and Heather are first to arrive to Curve, or whatever the store is called.  The owner is a friend of Heather’s because with a smile like this….
When the store owner tries to get Aviva to try on shoes, Aviva is stand-offish and tells her she doesn’t want to attract attention to her feet.  It’s a reasonable stance on its own.  Heather, however, feels the need to share with the store owner (and everyone in the store) that Aviva has a prosthetic leg due to an accident in her childhood and you couldn’t ever tell just by looking at her unless you just told everyone.  Talk much Heather??  HOLLA
Ramona and Carole soon join and the shopping fun commences.  Except it doesn’t because Carole has to take an important phone call outside and Ramona is left in the store with Heather and Aviva.  The store owner and a couple of associates hand piece after piece to Ramona to try on and Ramona sends piece after piece away with a wave of her hand and a look of disgust.  Is it a mini-skirt?  No?  Is it a long chain necklace?  No?  Is it a pair of black tights and knee high boots?  No??  THEN WHY THE HELL ARE YOU GIVING IT TO RAMONA???

Of course Heather is embarrassed by this because she’s basically embarrassed by everything Ramona Singer which, how could you blame her really.  So instead of just ignoring her and then explaining to her friend later that she’s crazy, Heather takes Ramona aside to talk to her about London.  Heather basically says, “Yeah, I didn’t invite you to London because I didn’t think you liked me and I don’t like you, but I’m not mad that you said I talk too much, which Aviva told me you said by the way.”
As Heather finished putting her books into her locker before heading off to gym class, Ramona responded with, “Well Aviva told me you were mad at me about that and I couldn’t understand because you said I talk too much too but I’m not offended and besides you DO talk too much but you should totally bring me to London.  Let’s get Aviva over here.”
Fearing she might be late to Algebra, Aviva hurries over and is met with, “You told her that I was mad at her but I wasn’t mad at her so why’d you tell her that?”  And Aviva was like, “You told me that.” And then one of the other two was like, “No I didn’t,” and then Aviva was like, “I’m going to be late to Algebra you guys.”  And then Heather basically was like, “Well, I’m not inviting you to London but I don’t have a problem with you,” and then Ramona was like, “My nail polish lasts for three weeks and I can balance a glass of Pinot Grigio on my head!  Let’s take a break!”   Ahhhh, good ol’ Ramonacoaster.

Carole comes in with exciting news- her second book has been made into a TV pilot and the network luuuurved it (duh)!  She tells the girls, and there is jumping and squealing and happy bombs going off all around and then Ramona says, “Well since we’re sharing good news, I found out yesterday they’re going to sell Ramona Pinot at Target!”  *Crickets* 
Seriously, is it any wonder they keep this woman on the show?  That’s TV gold people.

I will leave you with that for now friends.  Tune in next week to see if the girls in London or the girls in New York have a better time.  Until next time my luuurves…