The Real Housewives Of New York: The Seventh Housewife

Oh great. Time to catch up with these wonderful ladies. I can’t wait to see what they’ve all been up to! (I can wait to see what they’ve all been up to. Forever.)

Within the first five minutes of the season 2 premiere, this show abandons all pretense of being anything other than a poorly cast, dismal soap opera. Jill Zarin (who looks GREAT, btw, and I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, gurrrl) talked shit about Alex McCord to Cindy Adams and now there is a fabulous tempest in a Faberge teacup or something. Who cares? Is the gossip that these women all hate each other and only socialize because that’s the contractual obligation they made with Bravo for their 15 minutes of pretending like they mattered? Because we already knew that. Of course they hate each other. Who doesn’t hate these assholes?

But, OK. So, what IS new?

Bethanny introduced her skeleton arms.

Never to be outdone, Alex one-upped Beth with the introduction of her skeleton FACE.

No offense, but she might be the least attractive woman in the whole world. I mean, some offense probably. Yuck.

Meanwhile, the Cuntess still reigns large in her mind.

Whoever she was talking to in this scene walked away and was like “what is a countess?” And someone explained it to her. And then she shrugged and was like “if it bleeds, it can be killed.”

There’s a new housewife named Kelly, but we already knew that. She kind of puts all the other housewives to shame, even if she is divorced and single and has a job. I think. Does she have a job? She may or may not have a job. In any case, it’s weird for this show to have someone who is actually kind of pretty and not some post-menopausal nightmare of self-loathing-status-anxiety and/or Skeleton Arms Magoo. Then again, it’s surely only a matter of time before Kelly reveals her true colors, which I’m guessing are gold, platinum, and the deep black of an unsatisfiable spiritual abyss.

But the best part about the new season is the addition of a SEVENTH housewife.

That lady is THA BEST. She should have her own TV channel. It would be called Gray Home and Gardens. Get it? I thought she was going to be relegated to an incredible background detail, but you have to hand it to the Bravo producers, they know gold when they see it, and this is gold, and they saw it. So eventually one of the housewives went and talked with her. Unfortunately, it was the worst housewife. (Just kidding, there’s no such thing as “the worst” housewife. Compared to what?)

Shut up, Cuntess. This is like that scene in Capote when Phillip Seymour Hoffman condescendingly, and wearily says to Perry Smith, “There is not a word, or a sentence, or a concept, that you can illuminate for me.” That is what this is like. You could cut off this woman’s arms and legs and she’d still run circles around Cuntess DeLessucks.

Also, why didn’t you tell me that your boyfriend was going to be on the show?

Your boyfriend is lame. Like this show. I, ah, paint only ZINGS.