Blogging The Real Housewives of Atlanta, Episode 10: Off the Hook
How relieving to not have to open these recaps with talk of how boring Kim was in a particular episode.
How relieving to not have to open these recaps with talk of how boring Kim was in a particular episode.
Alright! Here we go! Nene and Kenya finally have that big fight the internets have been buzzing about since before the season started! And by fight, I mean they do a weird little tango-waltz sort of thing. We’ve been hoodwinked.
“Hold on to your weaves! And also to your significant others!” FINALLY. Finally, Kenya shows us every piece of her behind (in a metaphorical sense) on this trip to Anguilla. I know she’s not the only person on the show, but there are just so many of her antics that need to be discussed. So, Read More
We’re just about at that point in a reality show’s season where the cast packs up their swimsuits, waterproof weave and mutual hatred for each other and goes on an international vacation.
Per the episode’s title, a good chunk of this episode was about Kim’s moving drama. Kinda boring, if you ask me.
Last night, I quickly pondered watching the American Music Awards rather than Real Housewives of Atlanta, but then I realized that Kenya’s estrogen-drunk antics are more riveting than the award show and I turned. And what luck! Last night we were introduced to Porsha, the newest housewife, got another glimpse of Sweetie in her Juneteenth wig, and got a chance to run to the kitchen for snacks during Kim’s segment.
I watch this stuff so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.
There’s a white woman running around New York in a big black afro wig because she thinks it’s teaching her something about herself and the world and how she sees it and how it sees. She blogs about it sometimes on her website, Before and Afro.
Live-tweeting has completely revitalized the TV-viewing experience. How did we ever wait 12 to 24 hours to gather at water coolers or to meet our friends over coffee and discuss all our guilty pleasure shows and their salaciousness? Shonda Rhimes shows especially lend themselves to shock-tweeting; she trafficks in big plot twists and embeds her Read More
When I say I hate you… this is what I mean. Well, first, let me clarify: I hate bad spoken word. The “I’m deep by sound and headwrap and ankh tattoo alone” spoken word. The “as long as I say something about Africa, this is a good poem” spoken word. The affected cadence. The wildly Read More