I watch
The Real Housewives of Orange County, the daddy of them all. I also watch the New Jersey housewives, but I can't abide the Washington, Miami or Atlanta housewives. My hairdresser feels the same way. I haven't seen the Beverly Hills one, but my sister says it's fun because you can't feel inferior to women who obviously don't exist. The Orange County and New Jersey girls give me the best of both coasts. OC has blondes, boobs and beyatches (where did that word come from anyhow?), and NJ has smart mouths, spaghetti and Spanx. Someone once told me (or I read somewhere which is probably more likely as I don't talk to anyone very much unless I'm on the road in Woody), that the
Desperate Housewives (stay with me here, these are two very different kinds of housewives, but I guess they're all sorta fictional) characters are all in every one of us. We have our Bree need to keep a tidy house, our Lynn reality of a house exploded, the temptress, the survivor, the nosy and the nice. Well, the OC ladies live in me, too. Tamra now has a younger boyfriend that she thinks is her soul mate and the last time she had sex, it was for five hours (take that, almost-real imaginary boyfriend). She is working out a lot because she doesn't want to be the fat older woman. And Gretchen wants a lease. On what?, you may ask. On a man. Gretchen thinks you ought to be able to trade in the guy at the end of the lease if he doesn't meet expectations or you just want a new one. Slade (the man-whore who has done every one of the housewives and is now with Gretchen) thinks you need to take your leased whatever and have it maintained every now and then so that it can still perform. Can you say Botox? I see a gold digger here. Plus, he's running out of housewives except that new Peggy with the guns. Anyhow, my heroine for today is Gretchen, eschewing the tantalizing prospect of a double wedding with her Palm Springs gay friends to take a lease. Good thing I own Woody.
8:38 PM |
