Tamra headed over to Nuggets and Carats, a ring shop that conveniently also sells plumbing supplies in a strip mall off the freeway. Eddie had not shown much interest in planning their wedding, so Tamra figured dangling a very masculine band of black diamonds would do the trick. She invited Lauri to come and help her though they’d only seen each other once in the last five years. You remember Lauri, don’t you? She was the single mom with three wild kids who met and married that square-headed rich guy with the overbite? I believe he had 17 kids of his own. Well things are going well for old Lauri. She lives in a mansion, her nanny shops at Whole Foods, and all the kids seem happy. (Side note: My friend Sharon at absurd2sublime begs to differ: ) She’s happy for Tamra, she really is. But she wonders if she could have avoided this whole 3rd marriage if Vicki had been a little less of a sabotager. In fact she always had a good relationship with Vicki until she met George. But in fairness to Vicki she always loved dangling her money and power in Lauri’s face but it became difficult after her new boyfriend made more money than her.

Lydia has a hard time with her ma. She’d been promising her for years that she’d quit smoking marijuana. But is there anything wrong with a little toke here and there? Just a little smoke before and after breakfast, lunch, and a Dorito dinner? But it was because she was incapable of having a normal conversation. When Lydia tried to ask her about her first period she told her that it was just a sign that unicorn’s were planting seeds on the earth. When she wanted some insight on applying to colleges? She said to just sing a song to the clouds about her dreams. It got so bad that her sorority sisters broke into her house and spray painted “Pot Mom” on their living room mural. This was why Lydia clung to her free church. She needed some sort of constant. So she worried now about leaving her ma with her kids Cruise Control and Silver Tops. Would she be alert enough to save them from falling? Would they get a contact high sitting next to her while she watched a Lifetime movie marathon block? Would she feed them only brownies and kettle chips? But her ma felt like her judgmental daughter was keeping tabs on her. “What – you working for the FBI too”, she would say. Lydia accepted her as she was as a glitter soul with enormous jugs that she kept masked under a monk’s cape and dangling cross diamond earrings. But she just wanted her to be able to complete a field sobriety test and be a good grandparent. Was that so wrong?

Heather’s table read went well though I am pretty sure Betty White had absolutely no idea who she was. And I am not sure how much acting was required when the entire episode was making fun of the real housewives franchise. Here’s a stretch. Get one of those girls from the Orange County show.

Speaking of Screen Actor’s Guild quality acting, Alexis has a new dream. Forget about that dress line or the correspondent job or being Queen of the trampoline circuit. She wants to be an actress. So what if she’s 46 years old? Is it a bad thing that she wears drag makeup? Or the fact that she can barely remember her own address let alone lines from a script? But then again in some ways she’s been acting for years. She’s done scene studies on how to act like a religious wife and how to pretend you make out with your gross husband. So there’s that. So she found an acting coach that operates out of an accountant’s office. “Rob” and “RJ” give acting pointers when they are not fixing tires at the auto shop across the street. They both thought Alexis had some talent, in addition to having a nice rack. Plus she drove a fancy car, so she probably had enough money to pay whatever they charged. And who can not forget her incredible guest spot on General Hospital last year? Didn’t see it? Well she played a newscaster with long hair extensions and implants. A total leap from her own life. And this acting class she’s joined will be tremendously helpful. She’s learned how to use emotions even though she can’t physically move her face. Does the rest of the class hate her? Well, yeah. But she won’t need them when she leaves the comfort of their suburban acting class for the big leagues. Next stop: community theater.

Gretchen and Slade were late to LA to Heather’s taping. Heather just wanted to look up and see her fake friends and know they were there to support her. But Gretchen didn’t really care. She’d spent her birthday at a fancy hotel in San Diego and then was dumbfounded when her new present pulled up to the valet stand. Slade, who has been suffering with financial problems for years, sort of got her a Rolls Royce. Though she was presented with a bow he actually just transferred the lease to her other car into a lease for a sweet white Grandpa ride. “It’s just a couple hundred dollars more a month”, he explained. But Gretchen secretly worried if she would be able to afford it since she was really the one paying all their bills. And after they showed up late to Heather’s taping and made a spectacle of themselves Gretchen thought she’d clear the air by letting everyone know that Slade got her a Rolls. Ex-squeeze me Bellino? You are driving a Rolls when you share your driveway with three other houses on a street next to a major highway? And you are not 90 years old and from Houston, Texas? Yes, makes sense.

Terry gave a nice speech. Vicki and Tamra tried to bury the hatchet. Heather pretended she’d won an Oscar. Lydia looked like she was dressed for the prom. It was a good night. And Bravo paid the bill.

Let’s chat for a moment about Adriana De Moura from Real Housewives of Miami. This weekend she got “married” in Florida. I use the term married loosely because she’s actually already been hitched for a couple of years. But for the sake of her Bravo story line she concocted this odd story about how she and her follicly challenged husband/boyfriend went to the court house on a whim, found out the union was not technically sound, and decided to rethink the whole thing. I am sure that the courthouse and their tax preparer would beg to differ. But she’s a reality star, so she’s got to have some sort of dog and pony show to keep the producers and viewers interested in her. So what better way than a wedding? Who doesn’t want to sit through a long ceremony, dinner, and listen to boring speeches for a couple who is actually legally married?

So last night I received a copy of a PDF wedding invitation that Adriana sent to her guests. Let me start by pointing out that it is 9 pages long. Now I’ve been to plenty of weddings but I’ve never received a packet. It’s NOT your usual calligraphy on stock paper indicating the date, location, and name often couple sort of thing. This Adriana has been led to believe that she is a pretty important person. Sort of like a member of the House of Windsor – but if the royal family has a stationary designer that works at Office Max.

Christ. I really need to wear white? First of all I am pale. It was bad enough I had to wear it to my own wedding. Can we go the eggshell or creamy oatmeal route or does it have to be chalk white? Because there are no guarantees I will appear in any photos.

Oh, I see. Your day is so sacred you’ve invited a bunch of stonewashed jeans wearing cameramen to cover the ceremony? Am I supposed to sign some sort of agreement that says it’s okay to show the fact that I look horrendous in the white outfit you’ve forced me to wear? Because I’d love for my old boyfriends to be reminded on television that I look fat in anything other than black.

Right. So now I need to have an outfit that is 1920s inspired? Nothing says women are no longer repressed like elbow gloves in the humid Florida weather. Also, I’ve pretty much begged my husband to come to this whole affair. You want to chat with him about the importance of wearing a waistcoat? You do realize it is 2013, right? Is this a holy union or a GD theme party?

A mood board? Thanks for the instruction. Let me run out to Sears and see if I can find a satin dress. Think the manager of Michaels can give me some instruction on how to make a feathered headpiece?

How about you just do some glamour shots in your living room with a make believe priest and we call it a day?

Sometimes comfort has to trump fashion.

When you are going to be sitting on a hot beach you probably shouldn’t wear a parka. If you are going to be sitting in a car for a few hours a pair of pantyhose and an evening dress is really not ideal. Plan on dancing at a party all night? Wear a skirt long enough that no one gets a peak at your Situation with Wolf Blitzer.

Needless to say when you are pregnant you can’t shove a pair of swollen legs into a pair of strappy sandals. You read me, Kim?

Plan on walking a red carpet with an ankle bearing pair of heels before hundreds of photographers? Get yourself a pair that doesn’t leave your toes jutting out. Comprende, Julianne Moore?

And if you don’t want your implant scars to blind people you might want to pick a dress that doesn’t look like a nightgown. Though I am not sure Tara Reid cares.

I need your advice.

I used to have this friend. Let’s call her Shmim Shmardashian. We grew up together. She always idolized me. I mean, most people do. We used to have such a blast together. We’d spend hours talking about my amazing hair. We’d sit in my closet for hours while I’d try on clothes and practice poses. I even taught her how to use foreign men for money and expensive presents. Then it seems like as soon as I sold my own sex video and started to film a reality show she started to get distant. Next thing I know she’s done her own video and her whole family got their own show, but on a cable channel. Like — can’t you find your own trashy way to become famous? I understand that people look up to me, but she was supposed to be my friend. I never slept with any of the guys she wanted to be with. You know why? Because I am a good friend (and I also found them all repulsive).

Now all of a sudden she is everywhere. Do you know what it is like to see your enemy’s face everywhere? I can’t get the same rates for showing up at a party to scream in a microphone in Vegas the way I used to. I am not getting the same pay to open a milkshake shack in the Middle East. My sex tape sales are down. I thought I could get married and that would help my image but then she beat me to it. I even thought about getting pregnant (even if my OBGYN says that it might be tricky) and then what do you know? She’s knocked up. CAN I GET A BREAK?

I feel like it would be really good for my career if I try to reach out. But apparently she’s still pissed because a reporter a few years ago asked me if I would want her butt. I said it was gross and that it reminded me of cottage cheese inside a trash bag. Is that mean?

But I miss having photographers follow me everywhere. I have my second assistant call TMZ and X17 every day and tell them where I am going and they never show up. I’ve tried to get into he Vanity Fair parties. I can’t even get an invite to animated movie premieres. Apparently the Kid’s Choice Awards think I am a bad influence. Do they not understand that there are tens of girls that admire my sense of fashion and starvation tricks? I had to BEG my aunts to get a spot on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. HELLO. My alchie aunt Kim is now more famous than me. Do you know how that feels?

So should I just pretend I care about her so I can use her the same way she used me? Maybe make lunch plans and tell the media she will be showing up? Maybe ride out a fake friendship until I can get myself on the cover of Life & Style? My mom says I should just make another video, but according to the health department this is not a safe way to get myself back in the press.

Can you help?

Thanks!

Paris

Tamra and Eddie have been dealing with some issues ever since he was given a ring and persuaded by Bravo to propose to her. They’ve been engaged 7 months and he’s seemed reluctant to start planning a wedding. Between her kids, their mis-matched horrendous interior decorating tastes, and his questionable interest in the female body it’s delayed his interest in setting a date. Plus he’s in love with his bike. For Eddie there is no greater love a man can have then with his bike seat and the open road. So when he advised her that their upcoming wine trip to Malibu would involve him going on a 6-hour road race with Slade she was livid. Couldn’t he just put away the Schwinn for one weekend? Wasn’t she enough? Plus, this was a big trip for her. Last year she and Vicki had launched this ill-advised business where they choose wines to send to their fans each month. Wines by Wives scouts only the finest beverage aisles in pharmacies and convenience stores in Southern California to bring to you a delicious drink for evening barbecues or to pair with your Slim Jim snack on your morning commute. So this weekend was a business trip. She wanted to make a good impression on the viewing audience, but it meant having to bring along Vicki. Sure, they were business partners technically. But Vicki had grown disinterested in the business after pretending to break up with Brooks, sort-of giving birth to her own grandchild, and launching a vodka business on top of her insurance gig. Wouldn’t a new vodka business interfere with their wine gig? And what would that vodka taste like? Gasoline and tears? Hadn’t Adrienne Maloof taught her anything?

So the couples all carpooled to Malibu in stretch 90s limos. Lydia and her “fancy” husband and the still fighting on the DL Dubrows picked up Vicki at the airport. Tamra and Eddie picked up Gretchen and Slade in the driveway she shared with her three other neighbors.

Their first stop was at a winery run by a nice older gentleman and his daughter. Vicki assumed they were banging as all age is-matched couples do in Orange County. “I am sorry,” she explained. “You can hardly blame me with the way you have been caressing her arm, weaving your fingers through her hair, and talking about how you have raised her. That’s how all the men in the OC talk.” Everyone was horrified. But to make matters worse she asked the young girl her age. When she responded with 24 Vicki shoved her own foot deeper in her recently reconstructed mouth by assessing she really looked older.

Lydia was pleased to be there and tried to reach out to Gretchen who was strangely dressed like a 15 year old at a Midland, Texas salsa festival. Her son made Slade’s son a homemade card wishing him well, which had actually been more than Gretchen had probably done in the entire time she had been dating her boyfriend. Solid work, Lydia.

By the way, Alexis and Jim were not invited to this wine trip. That was fine though because they already had plans opening their trampoline park. Instead of packing up their kids and including them in the event they jumped into their rental Royce and headed to Chula Vista to cut the facilities ribbon in front of the three members of the town’s Chamber of Commerce. As Alexis explained, Jim was a business genius. You know – in the same way the Olive Garden is considered gourmet Italian or Payless dyeables are like Louboutins.

After the uncomfortable afternoon at the winery they all headed back to the Inn to freshen up and sit down to dinner. Vicki began to cry (or at least it sounded like it since her face can not move) because she would be alone. She’d been married for 30 years and having an affair on the side, so she had never been on a vacation without someone. Lydia offered to let her sleep in their room on the floor or on a bed of blankets in their room’s shower. She was a good Christian like that. That is until dinner when she told Gretchen she was the reason Alexis had felt most betrayed by the women. Remember that? Remember when Gretchen and Alexis were kind-of friends? Just two girls who liked to get ghetto manicures? Just two fun-loving women in their 30s with older men who liked to dress them up like age-inappropriate Barbies? Now Alexis was calling her a bully while ignoring the fact that Gretchen’s boyfriend’s son that he barely ever acknowledged was sick. So who is the real woman of faith? Then the evening culminated in Terry admitting to everyone that the fight he and Heather had in her walk-in designer closet had ended with him suggesting that maybe they needed to get a divorce. Heather was furious. She liked to keep things like this private, even though they had mutually decided to be on a reality television show. But Vicki was kind enough to give them a divorce avoidance pep talk. Because if there is one person to talk you out of considering a divorce it was that nut bag.

The next day at brunch Tamra shared with the group that Eddie would not be joining them because of his daily half-day bike marathon. Most frustrating part of his obsession with biking? He claims that sexual relations hinder his ability to ride a bike at a no-where Olympic level status. You want to make it up a steep hill on two wheels? Save sexy time for never.

So they all head out to the same exact winery and it’s all a mess because instead of tasting wines Vicki just tried on fake fur coats. Tamra was pissed and told her she was a bey-otch. Vicki called Tamra a miserable human being. You know, just another day at the dysfunctional office.

Later that evening Tamra and Eddie went to a sushi spot and pounded sake shots while Tamra revealed that it is hard for her to express her emotions. Um, ex-squeeze me crazy town? So what exactly is flipping the bird, screaming at people, and throwing wine in people’s faces? She withholds all this anger and then it just falls out of her mouth. Eddie was concerned that it would just be yet another factor to prevent them from marrying. (On top of his list of 25 other reasons). But Tamra strangely thought that it was the reason she and Eddie got along so well. He didn’t talk to her about her past and she never asked him about his. (Maybe you should Tamra. Maybe you should).

Thank you for ongoing speculation about whether celebrities are pregnant. It’s been a lark. According to my notes Jennifer Aniston is probably pregnant with her 86th child. Good thing she makes money. How else would she pay for preschool? And your system for identifying a lady in her first trimester is incredible. Did you run it through the folks in Quantico?

People Mag has a fascinating story today about how Jennifer Aniston took in a Broadway show on Friday and then went to dinner with a few friends. Most important detail of her meal at an Italian bistro? “The actress sipped nothing but Pellegrino throughout the evening.” BINGO. As every lady knows, the only reason you would drink sparkling water is because you are growing a baby in your lady cavity.

This morning there was speculation in the New York Post that Beyonce might be with child because of two very important factors. 1. “Her waist was cinched tightly with a grommeted black and gold belt” at the Met Gala last week and 2. In a recent interview on Good Morning America she said she would like more children. “I think my daughter needs some company … at some point, when it’s supposed to happen.” HOLD THE PHONE. Looks like someone is going to bust out the old bottle warmer.

I like your style. I like the way you factor in all details when surmounting that a fetus is in a celebrity’s womb. Here are some additional suggestions on how to call whether a lady is preggo. (I say this because I’ve got my third one in my own lady sac).

• Noticeable amniotic fluid dripping down their pants.
• Alien-like movement in her center section.
• Mention of a scheduled C-section.
• A brand new infant car seat being placed in the back of seat of their car.
• Frequent trips to the bathroom and they do not seem to have signs of a cocaine addiction.
• Change in clothing attire. Is their stomach protruding over their elastic waistband?
• Here is a real tell: They tell you.

I am happy to join your staff. You could use me as some sort of Pregnancy Consultant. That way you can save yourself from explaining yourself every couple months why no baby has fallen out of Jennifer Aniston’s vagina. That way you could save some more space for pressing pieces like what hair products Amanda Bynes is using on the side of her head that still has hair or how soon Robert Pattinson will be released from his showmance contract with Kristen Stewart.

Sincerely,

Kate

The Scientologists are apparently kicking our asses, my friends in child rearing. Because according to New York Post’s Page Six the daughter of Tom “Jesus Christ of the Church of Scientology” Cruise and his recent escapee ex-wife Katie Holmes is about to launch her own clothing line. She is 7 year old.

So, yeah, while your kid is outside doing laps around the neighborhood with her Barbie bike, their kid is drawing up sketches for the fall season. While your kid is shoving as many donuts down their throat before you walk into the kitchen, theirs is reviewing fabric swatches. At the same time your kid is spilling paint all over your hard wood floor, the Cruise kid is coming up with price points for shift dresses and Capri pants. Your kid accidentally shat their pants at the park. Theirs is considering her brand image.

So maybe we all need to reconsider this whole Xenu system. Granted – you have to be brainwashed, they make you fork all over your savings for “church materials”, and if you really want to be part of the team you might have to scrub floors with a toothbrush at an hourly rate of $0.70. But if you are considered a celebrity and are on the fast track for stardom your child could be molded into a business titan.

It’s your choice, mom and dad. You can have an average, happy, and healthy child or you can subject them to a cult and they can become a mini mogul. I get it. It’s a real toss up.

We’re talking about the same girl who drinks Starbucks Frappuccinos on a daily basis? We’re talking about the same girl who enjoys a big bag of Fritos after a nice chicken fried steak dinner? Same girl who probably likes a nice mid-day nap after a walk around her bathroom and maybe some prescription meds?

And you are going to sell me this idea that the way she got her body back into shape after 2 kids and a trip to the mental hospital is by doing some yoga and chewing on some kale? Because I am pretty sure I just saw a picture of her with a bag of potato chips and her ratted extensions piled on top of her head leaving a public rest room without shoes on.

What happened to Lohan? You couldn’t have done a quick interview and photo shoot before she was forced by the state of California to enter a rehab center? I think we all would have enjoyed reading her tips on staying slim with a steady diet of nail polish, Adderall, and Red Bull. Undoubtedly a series of photos demonstrating her jazzercise moves when she’s out clubbing would have been beneficial to those of us looking to create stringy arms and bruised legs.

In fact maybe we could just have an interview with Courtney Love on meditation and natural ways to keep your teeth golden yellow and chipped? I’d like to see a Q&A with Tara Reid on her favorite green juice recipes and the best creams to heal your botched plastic surgeries.

Keep it up, Shape Magazine!

Miley Cyrus is 20. Liam is 23.

When I was 22 I got engaged. At 23 I was married. By 25 I was divorced. I married a guy who served the majority of the time we dated, were engaged, and married on deployment in the Navy. This, I suspect, is what it must be like being engaged that young and to an actor. It’s really hard to grasp the commitment you are making when you are barely an adult yourself and you never see the person you are committing yourself to. It’s sort of like living in fantasyland, but one where you have to pay electric and phone bills.

Signs that my marriage was doomed? Let’s go through a few.

1. I accepted his proposal because I felt bad declining it after he spent money buying me a ring. (That ring, by the way, turned out to be cubic zirconia on a platinum band).

2. I chose red bridesmaids dresses because I always liked that song Lady in Red by Chris De Burgh.

3. His mother’s reaction to him proposing was “oh God, please tell me you didn’t.”

4. His mother went off her meds before and during the wedding at the suggestion of her hairdresser so her thinning hair could look more full for pictures.

5. Of the 20 wedding pictures she purchased I was in only one.

6. I avoided him at the wedding reception because I wanted to hang out with my friends and perform the dance routine my best friend Dan and I had perfected.

7. At the hotel room after the reception I locked myself in the bathroom and stared back at my sweaty face while still standing in my hideous wedding gown and said out loud “what have you done” while my new groom knocked on the door and asked if everything was okay.

Should someone have suggested to me that perhaps marrying someone I had nothing in common with and barely knew was a bad idea? Um, yeah, that probably would have been helpful. I think an intervention would have done me some good. But maybe not with my family. I would have preferred Bill Clinton, Barry Manilow, Diane Sawyer, or Oprah. Maybe if the guys from New Kids on the Block had sat me down and suggested I was making a huge mistake I would have rethought my plans. (Especially if it meant I could make out with Joey McIntyre).

The good news is that I met my husband on match.com 10 years ago (our 6 year wedding anniversary is Saturday) and I am about to have our third child. So things turned around for loveandknuckles.

So if an intervention had to be staged for these two kids by Liam’s brothers I say bravo. Why do they need to be married this young anyway? Sew your wild oats, kids. Take a couple years to date a bunch of ridiculous people. Cancel the reception hall. Imagine what she would think of the fish net dress she’d been planning to wear 10 years from now? Would she still let Selena Gomez be a bridesmaid? Would he want to invite the cast from Hunger Games? Would Billy Ray still have a mullet? This is the stuff you’ve got to think about.