It’s moving day at Jim Edmonds’ home. And Jim Edmonds’ mom is there! So obviously Jimbo will tone down his rampant misogyny, right? Guess again. While mom and his child bride Meghan look on, he packs a particularly full drawer, prompting him to announce, “This is what happens when you have too many females who don’t throw anything away.” Mom is unfazed by her son’s blatant hatred of the fairer sex. So is Meghan, who tells us, “There are never any compliments during moving; no one’s saying positive things, like ‘You look beautiful.’” A big round of applause to Meghan and Jim Edmonds who have both managed to look utterly delusional within the first 30 seconds of this episode.
According to Meghan, Jim Edmonds doesn’t do much when it comes to the moves, and allegedly believes “there’s a magical fairy that packs and unpacks boxes.” News flash, Meghan. They are not magical fairies; they are called movers and you can hire them pretty easily. The irony is that her words are dubbed over footage of Jim Edmonds actually moving things, while the only thing Meghan’s managed to lift is a grande Starbucks cup and her phone. Then she prattles off all of the things she “does” to help with the move, though from where I’m sitting, it seems like all she does is whine and talk about moving. All of this has Meghan “totally stressed out.” A pity party of one, methinks.
Meanwhile, Shannon Beador is putting her private cell phone number to use by calling Meghan. Whaaa? “I hear you had a good party,” Shannon begins, passive-aggressively. Meghan’s surprised to hear from Shannon and cannot let the Napa blowout go. They both say pleasant words while making unpleasant faces at their phones. However, Shannon’s invite to a Bunco party at her home is her way of extending an olive branch, though she has to come out and say “I’m extending an olive branch here,” since Meghan still does not understand. If only we could give each an actual olive branch and let them duke it out. (Hint, hint, Bravo execs.) The call ends with Meghan telling Shannon she looks forward to Shannon “proving” that she’s sorry and has let everything go. Shannon hangs up and walks out of frame, muttering words to the effect of, “The balls on that a–hole.”
Tamra Judge and Vicki Gunvalson are in a spa or some establishment that will allow them to wear robes AND give them free alcohol, so they are just peachy. They’re talking about grandchildren, which has been a tremendously boring storyline for Tamra this season. Can we please stop dwelling on how being a grandmother will “change” Tamra? Grandkid or not, Tamra’s still going to dress like she shops at Forever 21, she’s still going to talk like a rude 14-year-old boy, and she’s still going to get fall-down drunk. I’d almost rather listen to Meghan talk about moving than Tamra and Vicki talk about being grandmothers. ALMOST. Time for their couples massage. Tamra admits that she will do anything to keep looking young, which includes being slathered with marshmallow goop before being bound in plastic wrap. After this weird treatment, you need to shower off, and we’re unfortunate enough to see a nude, marshmallowed Vicki from behind. And I’ve just poured bleach in my eyes.
Heather Dubrow brings her kids to get hair cuts. She used to take the kids to a “classic kids haircut place,” but at some point, you simply need to get a GOOD haircut. So here we are, presumably in some $75-a-head salon, watching Heather point out each one of her small daughter’s split ends. We learn the kids are bummed at the fact that Terry’s not around because he’s working so much. Yeah, Heather. Someone needs to pay for that
solar system home you’re building. She reminds us that Terry has a TV show, too! For those unfamiliar with his small screen work, we’re treated to a clip wherein Terry describes how a woman’s vagina was pulled up to her belly button after a botched surgery. I now want to pour bleach in my ears. Heather’s frustrated “on a practical day-to-day level to have to be everything to everyone.” Je suis desole, madame.
Shannon’s glowering in the mirror as she gets ready to call Meghan again. The undercurrent of nastiness has edged out the formal pleasantries this time around and Shannon gets to the heart of the matter. She’s upset by Meghan saying she needs to prove herself. After her scolding, Meghan sniffs, “Okay, you don’t have to.” This pleases Shannon, who curtly replies, “Hopefully we’ll see you tomorrow, Meghan. Buh bye.” Shannon sits at a desk for these two calls and I wonder if this desk solely exists just so Shannon has somewhere to sit while making these pointless calls. Again we’re treated to Shannon’s true thoughts after she’s off-screen: “She’s a f—ing thorn in my side.”
Vicki and Brooks have invited Lenka, a health coach, over to the house. Lenka is not a fashion coach, evident by her bright pink tights coupled with her bright green shirt. Did anyone tell Lenka that just because you have “coach” in your job title, you do not need to wear athletic apparel? Lenka’s focused on ridding one from chemicals via plant-based food, Vicki informs us. Buckle up kids, because this is about to get hilarious. Brooks says they’ve been “on this journey” with Lenka for four months, through three rounds of chemo, and the results so far “haven’t been good.” So Brooks, why are you continuing to pay for this? Vicki says “I’m no doctor and I don’t know how to cure cancer, but if I did, then there’d be a cure.” A brilliant thesis statement. She should put that on top of her résumé and ship it off to Sloan Kettering.
Lenka, who is also very much not a doctor, believes in “starving the cancer” by essentially starving Brooks, according to Vicki. Even raw salads are off-limits. So, uh, what precisely are Lenka’s treatment methods? Welp, there’s one where “we take shoes off and go on grass and we lay down and look at sky,” Lenka says in a Russian accent. Or there’s a “Forest Shower. You go into wooded area and breathe fresh air and absorb.” I hope they are not paying Lenka in actual currency for this. They could also try “Whoop Cleansing,” where Vicki would drink a whole bunch of tequila and just scream “Woo!!” at Brooks’ body over and over. I want to throw bleach at Lenka.
NEXT: Shannon brings up David’s affair for the umpteenth time. [pagebreak]
Shannon is getting ready for her Bunco night. She really feels like she’s giving a piece of her heart, when she “spends six hours in the kitchen putting a meal together.” I’d probably feel that way, too, if I also had a housekeeper to order around, as Shannon does. David comes home and says he “ran into a girl Shannon saw on the beach one day,” and even though Shannon doesn’t know who that is, she automatically assumes it’s David’s mistress. It turns out it was an old friend.
Shannon’s friend comes over to find Shannon shaking with rage because David has spoken to a female, and that will never sit well with Shannon. She doesn’t want to bombard David with her thoughts because David’s biggest fear is that she “won’t get over the affair. I have to be careful with how many times I approach him for reassurance because it frustrates David.” Jesus, David. Don’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time. Stop turning your infidelity around and holding the fact that your wife can’t recover fast enough against her. That’s the mark of a true scumbag. Shannon, eyes wet, claims that she’s willing to walk out the door on David if he ever speaks to the mistress again, though I think we all know that’s not true. She regurgitates more therapist speak, citing statistics for rebounding from an affair and this relationship is so very, very sad.
Meghan and Jim Edmonds are in their new rental house, where Meghan opens up a box and declares “they packed my trash can with my trash in it,” which causes Jim Edmonds to laugh and causes me to wonder what Meghan meant when in the beginning of this episode she talked about how involved she was in the move if someone else accidentally packed her garbage for her. Or perhaps the movers found Meghan as annoying as Jim Edmonds does and purposefully packed her refuse.
Meghan gives us a spiel about who wears the pants in the relationship and “guesses” that Jim wears the pants “a little bit more when it comes to the money,” but “we’re really a team.” Uh, no. Jim Edmonds treats you like something he’d scrape off the bottom of his shoe. He most definitely does not consider you an equal, Meghan. She claims she bought their last house and just as your mouth is about to hit the floor from this stunning revelation, she laughs, “I mean, I put my name on it, at least.” Signing a piece of paper without opening your wallet is not the same thing as buying something, dear. This new house is a four month rental while they look for ANOTHER NEW HOUSE. Meghan has “a lot of input” in the new house. This means she gets to make a little list of places to look at, wait for Jim to come back in town and then he says no to each of them. That is a lot of input, Meghan!
Anyway, Meghan’s excited for Bunco and thinks her car will collect her around six. “That late?” frowns Jim Edmonds. “I was hoping you’d be gone earlier so I could go to happy hour.” Jim Edmonds for Husband of the Year, everyone.
Heather is at her husband’s medical office, where Terry now lives. Terry loves being famous and being on TV, says Heather. Hey, pot? It’s kettle calling. She’s here to have something lopped off her hand while two camera men in scrubs film this (which means another camera guy is behind them and I’m left pondering how many camera guys are squeezed into this one room.) Terry, pointing to his wife’s hand, makes a joke for the sake of the cameras: “Let’s whack that off so you can whack me off.” Then he guffaws too hard at his own joke for too long. Classy, Terry. Heather’s going to be a “small human interest story” on his other TV show, she says and generally continues to lament his absence around the home. I suspect the real reason Heather’s so miffed is that Terry’s the star of his own show while she’s part of an ensemble cast.
It’s game night at Shannon’s house. Meghan arrives first and has decided to wear what looks like the fur of a panda in the form of a vest. Much like the rest of the things that appear on this television program, it’s laughably tacky. She’s decided she’s an “a–hole” if she doesn’t accept Shannon’s peace offering, so she has written Shannon a kind note, which she then forces Shannon to read aloud for the cameras. Now it’s Shannon’s turn to be fake nice, and she gives Meghan two bottles of wine she set aside for the party Meghan never invited her to. Tamra and Heather arrive and make handjob jokes like this is the back row of sex ed in grade school.
Vicki arrives as does Jeana from many seasons ago. I was hoping she and Meghan could bond about both marrying former baseball players who treat their wives like dookie, but no such luck. Vicki reminds us of the last time all these women played Bunco, and we’re treated to a clip of this which is really just 30 seconds of ear-splitting noise, vomiting forth from Vicki’s mouth in Tamra’s direction. I’ve never played Bunco, but it doesn’t look like much fun. Vicki doesn’t understand why they have to play a game at all. Why can’t they just sit around and talk? And by “talk,” I assume Vicki means “get wasted.” Meghan’s talking about her damn house again and I propose a new drinking game. Every time Megs mentions the struggles of moving, you take a swig. Please do not play this game concurrently with the “Chug When Jim Edmonds Insults His Wife” drinking game, as you will require medical attention afterward.
They get down to Bunco, which Meghan says is a game old people play in Mississippi. Unshockingly, all of these women are competitive! And NONE of them like to lose! Next comes the phone call for Vicki that we’ve seen in the season teaser promos, the one where she ends up on the floor in a sobbing heap. Her mother has passed away and Briana has called to break the bad news. The ladies console her, Brooks comes to pick her up, and after a short montage of Vicki’s mother on the show, the episode ends on a somber note.
So what do you think of Brooks’ “health coach”? Are you happy no one mentioned charity this week? Would you watch a show where Real Housewives from different casts just beat each other with olive branches? What should we call said show?