'The Real Housewives of New York City' recap: When LuAnn calls you darling, duck.

Oh sweet Jesus, it was that kind of evening. Ramona was in a new candy-colored negligee, her hand weights tucked beneath a hotel bed. I kind of loved her little face sitting there alone on the sofa waiting for Mario. A sip of pinot, then 20 more, just waiting for my man, not thinking at all about the possibility of a mistress. Across the river, Alex and Simon were cooking up a feast for lovuhs. Simon did a little cheerleader back kick into his wife's caboose, which apparently is his way of announcing he's feeling frisky. No aprons necessary, Alex dear. It'll be just one more article of clothing that Simon will have to remove, Tide stain stick, and fold neatly back in the drawer. Tonight he wants you full of oysters, wearing nothing but a black bra-er and some boy shorts. Or maybe a Miss Havisham lace robe? All he knows is he's got a big present for you. Surprise! It's gift basket of weird undies, sitting astride his crotch. (Can I please have a blog from a Bravo crew member on being present during this scene?) Alex led the way to the boudoir, awkwardly flouncing a purple ribbon in the air. "Wait for me, I'm coming!" hollered Simon behind her. "I always do," she winky-winked back. What can I say, this show is my TV equivalent of a box of cheap wine. Doesn't quite feel good going down, but it still gets you to a strange happy place. Hangover's a bitch though. Read More...



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