TV Review - RHONY Season 5

For me, admitting to watching any of the `Real Housewives` franchises is like suffering thorough a bout of colitis: painful, tiresome and embarrassing to talk about. But here we are, another season, another gaggle of horrible shrews behaving badly.

This season of the `Real Housewives of New York` has been going on for a couple of months now and so far, YAWN. The folks at Bravo jettisoned some of the dead weight from the cast (Cindy Barshop, we hardly knew ye) and added some new, equally shameless broads:


Aviva: mother of four, native New Yorker, cousin (by marriage) to Fran "Bobbi Flekman" Dresher and actual real housewife! She's also missing a leg, which they mention in EVERY SINGLE EPISODE. What she lacks in limbs, she makes up for in phobias. Girlfriend is afraid of everything: elevators, flying, heights, farm equipment (understandable, since that's what ripped off her leg). Or maybe she just uses them as an excuse to avoid doing humiliating things (e.g. hang out with the other Housewives).


Heather: zaftig owner/driving force behind something called "Yummie Tummie", which is not a fat free frozen yogurt stand, nor an upper body strengthening device for infants, but is instead a Spanx knockoff. Prone to randomly using "urban" words like, "holla." Winner of "Phoniest Smile" award in high school.


The Kennedy Chick - I think her name is Carole. She is like, Jackie O's grandniece, or something. Friends with lots of bigwigs and at one time had an actual real job as a news producer for ABC. Also, is a princess of some sort, thanks to her dead husband. Why is she on this show? Her pedigree seems legit. Apparently, she's got a book and an upcoming TV pilot to hawk. Despite messed up plastic surgery and horseteeth, seemingly too normal and self-aware to be at all entertaining. Snooze.


Rounding out the cast are the standbys from seasons past: crazy Ramona, stuck-up Luann and slutty Sonja.


Like a microcosm of America, things seem to be shaping up along class lines, with the old money going to battle against the downtrodden nouveau riche. Aviva and Carole, with their "credentials" and "connections" seem to have been recruited in an effort to make the already crass and classless Ramona look even trashier and Sonja even skankier.


So far, there has been nothing going on. Ramona hates Heather for some reason and vice versa, and there is some low-level annoyance brewing between the Countess (Luann) and the Princess (Carole). Most of them went to London together where Sonja stuck her face in the hotel bidet (seems about right). Ramona continued to cash in on her drinking problem by cutting a deal with Target to have her pinot grigio sold there. Did I mention that it comes in a box? Of course it does. Aviva fell down the steps, because SHE HAS ONE LEG. Luann, at 47, is "pulling a Ramona" and trying to get pregnant. HAHAHAHA. The show is still embarrassing, but it's boring, too. Like going to your old college roommate's one-woman show about Sojourner Truth.


If the previews for episodes to come are to be believed, however, it's all going to change next week! Finally, stuff starts happening. When they ran the ad, I was in a stupor after watching a particularly boring episode, but here's what I remember:


- Viva Aviva! Suddenly, she gets something to do and starts laying into people, namely Ramona. Something must go horribly wrong on their current jaunt to Miami where they are hanging out, being friends (?), because in the preview, Aviva busts out the "WHITE TRASH" sash and pins it on Ramona!


- She's also had it with Sonja, apparently. Evidently, the plan to hook Sonja up with Aviva's "sex addict" FATHER did not go according to plan. I don't know - it seemed foolproof. Anyway, in the preview, Aviva calls Sonja out on her sorority girl behavior (i.e. being a sad, drunken mess with her skirt over her head).


- At one point in some future episode, Aviva comes out with this notable quotable: "This isn't about you or me! This isn't about my charity! This is about the kids... WHO DON'T HAVE LEGS!" Awesome. I'll be watching for that exchange alone.

TV Review: 24 Hour Catwalk

Did you ever watch this show "24 Hour Catwalk" on Lifetime? It's the worst. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who has seen it besides the moms of the "designers" on it.

The "concept" is that four fashion designers of dubious talent are thrown into a warehouse with the most ridiculous materials on the planet (a terry cloth bathrobe! a diaper! a snake!) and told to create ugly and stupid clothes out of them that are usually at odds with the fabric (make a sexy bathing suit out of a down comforter!).

After like 3 minutes, a gaggle of judges takes a look at their hideous creations and boots off two of the designers who "do not meet our standards." I'm not sure what kind of standards they have - they're judges on "24 Hour Catwalk." The only one I've ever heard of is Cynthia Rowley, who hasn't eaten solids since 1992. She usually likes the fugliest stuff. There is also Alexa, some other weeenie with a neck beard and a nerdy guy who told me he's trying for a "Simon Cowell meets Alton Brown" thing: being a jerk, minus the manboobs, plus a bowtie.

After the initial beat downs/cutting of the fat, the remaining 2 designers are tasked with creating "an entire collection" (3 pieces) in 24 HOURS!! Don't worry, though, they have a team of sassy sewers to help them, including the incredibly named JustRaymona, who is a drag queen. Right? I'm sorry if she's not. If she is, then congratulations to her on being relatively demure and understated. The sewing teams give lip to the designers, who get super frazzled before shoving their polyester wares on some cut rate models and having a "real, live fashion show". The winner gets 10,000 smackers.

The real sadness here is when "24 Hour Catwalk" is the only viable option of what to watch on Comcast's Video on Demand. Why isn't "Locked Up Abroad" on there?!?! I would watch the hell out of that. This is just sad, unphotogenic "Project Runway" rejects forced to work under even more ridiculous circumstances with cheaper fabrics.

Blowin' Up

What is it about turning over the last page in the calendar that makes people want to detonate explosive devices in close proximity to their homes? I'm talking about those who, instead of watching professionals on TV deliver a quality fireworks display choreographed to Auld Lang Syne, would rather set off some jank illegal ground mines to the sweet, sweet sounds of Uncle Kracker.

As a person averse to loudness in general, lying in bed waiting for the random explosions to be over and wondering if any of them are aimed at my car isn't fun. It gives me fodder for future PTSD therapy sessions. And what's the excitement in a loud noise? I mean, come on. And it just goes on and on, since there's not usually a time limit set when drunks get a hold of stuff they can blow up. You just have to hope someone blasts their finger off so everyone heads to the ER and you can get some sleep.


At least with a professional display, you get the benefit of some colors and sparkles and maybe one of those newfangled fireworks that looks like a peace sign when it explodes in the air. Now that's progress. If the ancient Chinese come back, we can totally show them the smiley face firework as evidence of our evolution as a species.