In "No Hate," Tamra takes off her top (again), Peggy's 1-year-old takes a meeting with an agent, and a little bit more of Donn's soul dies.

By Karen Valby
Updated April 04, 2011 at 02:23 PM EDT
Credit: Nicole Wilder/Bravo
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I had such high hopes for Micah after his unflappable handling of Peggy’s neuroses at the pool last week. But he threw me for a loop last night at Peggy’s plastic surgeon’s office. (Hey, there’s nothing contradictory about a holistic yogini Aries former active wear model getting her boobs done again. It’s her prerogative, yo.) Anyways, Micah had a few questions for the doctor about his wife’s “dentectomy.” Would they hold wineglasses? Say wha? Can he keep the removed silicone? Micah, seriously, stop. You know, to juggle with or flip around like boob pizza dough? Where’s that tape Tamra had slapped over her mouth at her No H8 shoot….

Speaking of, Tamra found another reason to get naked this season. (And it’s only episode 5 people. We are so screwed.) We all know how politically active the woman is and if it takes a pink maid’s apron to bring about change then she will wear it sans culottes. “What better way to support my hot lesbian friend than to get naked with her?” she Tamra-snicker-winked in her interview. So she and Fernanda took off their tops and backed their denim booties into one another. Yikes Tamra, your dentectomy scars frighten. Simon would never have let her do a ridiculous photo shoot like this, which may actually be a point in Simon’s column.

Tamra got a little teary unpacking boxes of wedding memorabilia. Eddie just assumed she set fire to her wedding dress with her wedding candle but Tamra wasn’t ready. He wisely decided to give her some time alone so she could press her nails into her palms and try to cry for the cameras. There followed a long scene of her slowly walking to the dumpster clutching two of her wedding glasses. Sadly, she laid them down on their side on the top of a trash heap. Am I supposed to be feeling something?

Peggy’s children, I feel for you! “Capri, are you ready to see your agent?” Peggy called out happily as her 1-year-old daughter who looked for something soft on the floor to chew on. At a supposedly very important agent’s office, London was put into a tutu and told to walk like a diva and do some ballerina moves. The child appeared to take a soft poo in her diaper and then started running around in circles, babbling toddler nonsense. “She’s going to need to be able to go to her mark and just stand,” sniffed the important agent, who I suspect is actually not very fond of her clients.

And poor Donn, I feel for you as well. It was family dinner night at the Gunvalson house, which meant Vicki haranguing her husband about ruining her special evening by burning the steak and then guilting her grown kids for not paying more attention to her. Donn’s misery level seemed to be hitting an all-time high, as he groused quietly about his wife working until Midnight or 1am every night. “I focus my time on where it makes me happy and it’s my work,” she explained. “What else do I have?” You have steak, woman! And a good guy to call your own! And cake!

It’s too bad that Donn and Vicki never did figure out a way to make their marriage work. No 40th wedding anniversary for them. Meanwhile Gretchen was deep in preparations for her parents’ secret celebration, which afforded her a chance to play Bond girl and then cackle over the hilarity of it all. That laugh is going to be the end of me. Should grown women wear cutesie pie yellow bows in their hair? Should grown women date Slade? And for that matter, should grown women give their mothers diamond rings from their own failed marriages?

NEXT: Somebody stabs a needle into Alexis’ face. (Not Vicki.)

It’s Housewives round-up time, y’all. That meant somebody had to host a Bravo-funded party and this time Alexis drew the short stick. She decided to bring everyone together at a Botox spa rather than at her home. “When the cat fights start,” she explained, in her one good line of her entire Real Housewives tenure, “I don’t want champagne on my sofa.” Tamra wrongly calculated that it’d be really hilarious if she brought some Mace to the party, just in case Gretchen got out of line. (Side note: How low rent was Vicki and Tamra’s limo?)

Fernanda, who strikes me as a perfectly reasonable, low-drama woman and thus an imperfect match for reality TV, was a little peeved that Tamra missed her citizenship party. She very calmly broached the subject while the woman was getting a shoulder rub-down. You would’ve thought Fernanda came after her wielding a botox needle and screeching obscenities in Portuguese. Tamra was horrified by her fitness trainer’s need to express her feelings in soothing monotone. Doesn’t she understand that their friendship is one-sided and she shows her love by paying monthly class dues and doling out occasional sexual innuendo? Tamra gasped over Charo’s simmering anger, her inappropriate pot-stirring. The woman’s behavior was mind-boggling. Oh Fernanda, get while the gettings good.

Virgos are such goofballs. And Peggy has never met a Virgo she didn’t instantly love. Any Aries in the house? Peggy wondered. Vicki happily raised her hand and thus alliances were forged. Gretchen—that f#^@ing Scorpio—and Alexis, and now possibly Fernanda, on one plush couch spotted with dabs of rich women’s blood and bits of forehead crust, while Vicki, Tamra, and Peggy gathered on massage chaises. Peggy cleverly opened by complimenting Vicki on her business savvy before somewhat apologetically admitting to being friends with Alexis. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Vicki wanted to cut to the chase. She’s going to cry when she’s sad and laugh when she’s happy. Peggy gazed approvingly at her, as if Vicki was unraveling some code to human behavior, and rubbed at the hologram she’d tucked into her bra.

Alright, enough fun everybody. Vicki is wearing her important grey dress and that means she has to get back to work where she will remain until sunrise, willing the phone to ring so someone out there will fill up her love tank by telling her she did a good job on those claim forms. (Cut to sad Donn, asleep since 10 pm, clutching a Golf magazine for warmth.) On the way out Tamra couldn’t resist showing everybody her Mace. Ha ha ha, she laughed, I didn’t have to spray this directly into Gretchen’s eyes, ha ha ha, I would have made her choke on it. Vicki and Tamra left, and this is where I picture the producers sitting on their knees pumping the remaining women up. “Can you believe Tamra brought Mace? That stuff is used against rapists and child molesters! Do you think Tamra thinks you’re a child molester, Alexis?” And…. roll ’em! The episode ended with a prolonged shot of Gretchen and Alexis wincing and pursing their lips. How dare Tamra? She will pay for her classlessness. Oh yeah, like she’s scared. “Next time I’ll bring a dildo!” smirked Tamra. Just. Don’t.

Is this season incredibly lame or am I just crabby and sleep-deprived? Is Gretchen’s whole waffling bit about marrying Slade just her calculating to get her own Gretchen Ever After? show? Also, has her skin always been this plagued? Say what you want about Vicki, but Briana and Michael seem to be good kids, don’t you think? Can someone from Bravo dummy up a contract that demands Tamra wear underpants at all times?

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The Real Housewives of Orange County

Bravo turns its cameras on California’s ladies who lunch (and shop, and tan, and get plastic surgery, and bicker…)
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