The week’s episode of ‘The Real Housewives of D.C.‘ convinces me of at least one thing (other than it puts my badonka donk to sleep): Tareq Salahi is one manipulative, conniving chubby cheapskate! Unlike the vast majority of marriages, this dude actually wears the pants in his marriage! So what’s Michaele’s role? To spend his money, pretend life’s one streaming rave, and let her light shine by way of bony hugs for everyone! Yippieeee!!!
Judging from this third episode, you gotta wonder if it’s going to be the Salahi Show for the rest of the season (with a little bit of ‘Cat’ clawing to add some international flavor). Whatever it is, Stacie, Mary, and Lynda better start having affairs or sex change operations because if they don’t do something remotely nutty, we figure their Bravo paychecks will get even skinnier than their Blondie co-star.
Here’s a recap of ‘The Salahi Show’:
Where’s Seth Myers?
Stacie and Jason invite Tareq and Michaele to their friends’ winery, and the political convo that transpires convinces you that drinking—in combination with weighing 95 lbs and being a blond—don’t really mix.
Stacie: “So what do you think of Obama?”
Michaele: “I think he’s all about bringing us all together and letting go of…and there will be those mindsets, and that’s what makes up the world, and we’re all different. I don’t really see either way that he’s Republican or Democrat, but he has a grace about him that when people do do that, it’s okay, ‘let’s talk about it’ and tries to pull everybody together—the red and the blue—to make it red, white, and blue.”
Holy dookie balls! Is this Michaele’s impersonation of Fred Armisen’s ‘SNL’ political comedian character Nicholas Fehn?
Before Jason laughs his rump off from this incoherent craptastrophe, he and Stacie—apparently plum drunk and outta their minds—invite the kooky pair to Paris to go see a concert of Jason’s little bro, who happens to have the #1 single in Francais. The high ballers that they are, the Salahis get their Coach bags packin!
Meanwhile, Paul Wharton—who seems to be the unofficial sixth D.C. Housewife—gets the biggest biatch slap of his gaylicious life and calls up Mary to confide. Turns out, the Salahis’ attorney had demanded a signed letter that stated that the couple are not liable to pay a dime for hosting his birthday party. “In D.C. ettiquette says if you are hosting the party, you pay for the party. And the fact she’s going to Paris is absolutely appalling to me,” says Mary.
After popping a $1000 bottle of champagne, Tareq and Michaele party hard at the Paris hip-hop concert with Stacie and Jason. As is customary fashion, Michaele bounces around and flicks her Arctic mane in the air for two reasons: 1) She’s on crack 2) She knows most people can’t see her toothpick self if she stood still. And there she goes! The music’s pumping and everyone’s dancing! Hell, even Tareq—who’s looking like a 50-year-old-20-pound-heavier version of actor Matthew Perry—is Roger Rabbiting the night away!
Getting carried away by the fly beats and re-living her clubbin’ days when she was a Trish McEvoy makeup counter gal, Michaele moonwalks her Jimmy Choos over to Stacie and starts doing a bit of a rub-a-dub-dub on her! “Okay now! We’re gettin’ a little Euro here, but you know, it’s all good!” laughs Jason.
Dinner and Stacie’s ‘Guard Dog’
Mary’s hosting a private dinner party for her “besties,” celeb hair stylist and colorist Ted and Jason (a.k.a. T-J Hookah, biatches!)! As the ladies (sans Michaele) are getting their hair and makeup done for the event, Jason gabs that one of his clients—who had been to Paul’s b-day soiree—told him that Tareq was prancing around and boldly fibbing that he had “spent a lot of money at this party.” As the ladies snicker in disgust, Stacie plops a pound of Chanel shimmer powder up on her grill to avoid having to contribute, since she’s feeling all cozy-like with Michaele from her Paris getaway and especially because she told the Skinny Mini about her adoption background.
Once at the partaay, Lynda makes a toast on behalf of Cat, calling her their newest “soul sister.” She then looks over at Stacie, who’s sitting near her cranky BFF Erika, and says: “And actually, if you can sing, we’ll let you be Diana Ross!” Everyone laughs … except for Erika, who barks out the following so loudly she accidentally tinkles in her Mean Girl panties: “Apparently we have a black girl in the group!”
Cat is so appalled at Erika’s outburst she steps outside with Her Majesty Paul Wharton and tells him that she is not racist at all! Paul grabs her and smooches her with delight. “Don’t kiss me—you’re gay and you’re colored!” she laughs haughtily.
Was Cat ‘Straight Up Rude’?
Because Tareq wants to keep secret the fact that he eats Michaele’s meals for her, Mr. Chatterbox goes on with another Look-at-Us! monologue at the dinner table, trying to convince everyone that his trophy wife eats more gourmet Burger King than he does. “Some people make fun of Michaele’s weight, but she’s gained weight after she married Mr. Salahi!” he cackles as his lady clandestinely slips her uneaten steak into his grubby hand underneath the table.
“Get rid of your husband,” Lynda states bluntly for the camera.
For the 10 people watching this show with me, what say you? How are you holding up with the D.C. Ladies? Are they classy or just plain boring?