Kandi, who earlier said she was on a diet, is now muttering to herself about brownie bites at a frozen yogurt shop. Phaedra comes to meet her in her finest lawyer suit, but she makes it clear that she is also still a mortician by dressing like a cracked-out Elvira (yes, more cracked-out) in her confessional. The two tiniest voices of reason have come together to discuss the latest developments in Textgate 2013. Phaedra’s way of speaking is just the best. She nods her head like a dashboard dog, but speaks so slowly and deliberately, it sounds almost sweet when she says things like, “she has whorish tendencies or, “offering my husband fellatio,” as though it’s an after dinner mint.
But, no, she’s not feeling sweet, saying she’s not going to give, what after three rewinds still sounds like, “that sagging dopper booty” any more energy. She’s “quite busy and quite overwhelmed.” When I’m overwhelmed, I’m dropping f-bombs and setting my alarm clock for 4:30 a.m. and not waking up until 7:00. I’m definitely not going to mortician’s school, being a lawyer and raising two precious children. Now, if only she could get her husband to stop seeming so shady. Phaedra assures us that her husband is “not looking for a washed up beauty queen with scrambled eggs. When he wants that, he goes to the Waffle House.” Don’t mix metaphors, Phaedra, that’s disgusting.
Cynthia is out of her bed and chatting in the kitchen with her daughter, Noelle, who is a cute little 13 year-old with a sock bun now. Cynthia says she’s so glad to have a good mother-daughter relationship with Noelle and then asks her, “So what’s going on with your social life?” as all mothers who have normal, unplanned chats with their daughters do. Cynthia wants to know who “Arthur” is. Well, Cynthia, Arthur is an anthropomorphic aardvark who wears glasses and teaches children valuable lessons. He’s also your daughter’s boyfriend.
Cynthia wants to make sure Noelle is keeping her informed on her blossoming womanhood, so she forces her to say if she and Arthur have kissed yet on national television. Affirmative. Cynthia concedes that’s OK, but none of the other stuff for many more years. She wraps up this healthy little convo by telling her 13-year-old daughter to keep her up to date: “I need the blow by blow…maybe that wasn’t the right word [laughs].” CYNTHIA, WHAT THE HELL?!
All of the ladies have gathered for the Porsha blow-by-blow at a Mexican restaurant, wearing the oddest assortment of sundresses, tuxedo jackets and board shorts I have ever seen. Nene pronounces “taquitos” “ten-quitas” while ordering, which is yet another thing Nene and my father have in common. The girls want to make this dinner about being there for Porsha, and I get that, but putting her at the head of the table was a mistake; her voice is at **threat level: dog whistle** the whole dinner.
Porsha reiterates that she had been putting on a mask all last season. Now is the time where you start deciding if you believe everything Porsha says or if she’s exploiting this situation for attention because she unleashes a lot of “truth” nuggets on the ladies of Atlanta tonight, and they all seem to side with her. She says she had to ask Kordell for the smallest things like grocery money -- and while all of the other ladies look appalled, Phaedra looks like she’s trying to puzzle out what a “groceries” is.
NEXT: Kenya keeps her enemies close, but her high school bowling trophies closer