Personal anecdote as counterpoint: the time that kind of mediocrity line was said to me was by an emotionally abusive asshole who thought that love meant drama and difficulty.
Personal anecdote as counterpoint: the time that kind of mediocrity line was said to me was by an emotionally abusive asshole who thought that love meant drama and difficulty.
Even though a potential portmanteau for them is Peen?
I came pretty close, when I told an Ex “you are going to be so bored with whoever you end up with”
quite frankly it doesn’t seem like many men find rachel to be that good looking.
Also, this.
Usually about...now:
Lol the cookbook was a dead deal long before the relationship.
“I got divorced TWICE on this fucking show.”
I’m more in this camp. She really seemed like one of those aristocrats that tolerates an open marriage and actively sleeps around herself.
If she was smart, she’d get it annulled so she can go back to using her Countess title (and maybe her previous surname) somewhat officially. I doubt she’ll want to keep Tom’s. Although, I think Mario would give her the title, Tom-less Luann. heh
Ramona must be in her glory (this calls for a new macrame dress!) and Andy Cohen must be sick to his stomach that they aren’t filming and that the reunion is over.
oh boy
She’s completely unrecognizable. She’s one of those women that I fear is on the cusp of losing her nose after too many nose jobs. Every time I see her, she looks different and more cartoony. Looks like her daughter is on the same trajectory. You can only make so many tweaks...
That was the weirdest three and a half minutes of any reunion. Like, she, I dunno, tried to wedge in some kind of moral high ground defense of her wigs, overstated the claim then was like, “no, I didn’t have cancer” right afterwards. But Andy had to specifically ask to get that.
Instead of watching this season RHOC on Monday nights, I’ve been watching Real Housewives of Atlanta because I had never watched it (and from what I hear, it’s the best).
Or finding out she had “not cancer” at Chilis.
God you’re filling me with ALL the nostalgia. Those were the french tipped days! #CloseYourLegsToMarriedMen
Back in the halcyon days of Big Poppa.
I kind of feel bad for those kids, as long as they didn’t ask to have a picture of their recovering bodies plastered on the internet, which is forever. The boy looks like one of those Victorian death photos.