Go away Michaele and Tareq. Don’t ever come back. You are bad news grifters, who point this way and that way whenever anyone demands accountability. You preach love, but fight dirty. (Michaele, you just couldn’t stop gleefully pressing that knife into the bruise of Cat’s divorce.) You ain’t got no home, which is not the crime. The crime is pretending to have one, blabbing about renovation plans in an audition tape, talking about having sold a house that you had only been renting. You ain’t got no job, which is not the crime. (Oasis Enterprises, Oasis Venues, I still don’t see a bottle of Oasis wine down at my grocery store.) But if you can’t pay your bills, and are in bankruptcy protection, lay off the limos and the Dom and the Mr. Sparkles and the Four Seasons suites, you jackasses.
The head of the Redskins cheerleaders said Michaele was never a cheerleader for the team. You don’t own it. The FBI said Mary’s daughter Lolly was never under any investigation. You don’t own it. The communications director for the Congressional Black Caucus Dinner said you were escorted out by security. You don’t own it. Emails from Michele Jones at the White House make clear that your invitations to the State Dinner had not cleared. You don’t own it. Cat, Lynda and Andy’s Bravo buddies all saw Tareq shove Michaele in your zeal to splash wine in Lynda’s face at a promotional event. Not only do you not own it Tareq, you claim it was all to protect your wife in her delicate condition. You two have a bad thing cooking, and one imagines that your internal lives are fetid and lonely. Well, good luck. Now get gone. Straight to bed and no more TV for you!
Oh Andy, I appreciate your attempts at follow-ups. I do. But if I heard you say one more time “I think we all can acknowledge we’re not going to get anywhere here,” I was going to pull a Theresa on my coffee table. Halfway through the episode I just wanted Stacie to take the couple out back and make them talk. She seemed ready to go, too: “Do you own a home? Let’s answer the question. Do you own a home? Do you have a deed on a home?” Stacie is okay in my book, and so is her husband Jason. Mary is a perfectly likable sweetheart with a sorority girl’s personality. She does not make for the most compelling Housewife, but extra points for her affable Rich. And Cat, well, I do think the woman can be wretched, but there’s something semi-vulnerable behind all her grousing. She’s the woman it would be fun to sneak outside and have a cigarette with even though you quit smoking two years ago.
NEXT: Here’s to the woman straight out of a Danielle Steele novel!