Our thumbs are basically numb from texting back and forth 24/7 about everything we love (AND HATE) that's happening on our televisions, iPads, and eye glasses (hi, we think we're funny) and we thought WHY NOT SHARE THIS JOY WITH THE WORLD?!  



Anne has a cat named Champagne because that word is 40% of her vocabulary. She feeds her cat roasted chicken and tells us that she’s throwing a Pussy Galore party to support her cat charity because of course she has a cat charity. She invites Michelle over to talk about helping with the Pussy Galore party. In episode 1, Michelle told us that she hates horses. In episode 2, Michelle told us that she hates dogs. Now it’s episode 3 and time for Michelle to reveal that she also hates cats. I think that Michelle hates every living on Earth with the exception of her immediate family and Gilda which: same.

Anne takes Michelle into her outdoor cat palace and Michelle’s faces are everything. Michelle calls it a “cat brothel” and asks how Anne can stand the smell. Anne tells Michelle to her to help feed the cats and Michelle teeters around the grass in her expensive boots and almost retches. You guys, I think she may not like cats that much. Michelle tells us that it smelled like pussy in there all right and then laughs because cat shit and woman vagina are the same thing. Michelle, in three short episodes you have become one of my most favorite housewives of all time but also they’re never going to cast you in next Real Housewives performance of The Vagina Monologues if you keep making jokes like that.

Anne wants Michelle to model a fur jacket that they’re auctioning off at the Pussy Galore party. So, hold up, at this party, which is raising money for animals, you’re asking people to pay for a jacket that is made of dead animals? I just - I mean - rich people make no sense but - wow. So then Anne brings out all of her mink jackets and she has about 18 of them and Anne says that she feels bad about owning them but not bad enough to stop owning them.

Julia tells us, again, that she loves looking good. Well then, girl, you must be upset like all of the time. Julia is going to have some non-invasive cosmetic procedure done that’s called the “vampire” treatment. Louise and Anne come with for moral support/to bag on Julia. Louise says, “The neck can be problematic on a woman.” How? How is it problematic? It allows you to eat food and breath air and hold your head up without assistance - what else do you require from it?

Julia lays down and the doctor rubs numbing cream on her neck and then draws her blood. Anne says that she’s fine with watching blood being drawn because she has lots of cats and is therefore a nurse. Anne is fucking crazy, you guys. The rando doing this procedure spins Julia’s blood in a centrifuge and takes the plasma and injects it back into Julia’s neck. And then she rubs Julia’s neck with some vibrating device and I swear to gawd they are shaving her. Anyway, Anne and Louise take this moment tell Julia that they’re annoyed that Julia told Gilda that Anne said that Gilda was a gold digger. I tried re-writing that sentence 8 times but I can’t make this nonsense any clearer. Anne and Louise tell Julia to keep her mouth shut from now on. Treatment over, Julia asks “how do I look?” and Louise says, “Really bad.” Louise is kind of great.

Angela has a French personal assistant named Lea. Angela tucks Lea’s hair behind her ear and they are definitely fucking. You guys, Angela talks about how she’s helping Lea learn English and then says to Lea, in the most condescending tone ever, “You need to book a reservation, do you know what that means?” And the word “reservation” is French, the French invented both restaurants and reservations. I can’t tell if Angela is actually the worst or if she’s just pretending to be the worst for her storyline. Either way - UGH.

Julia’s makeup artist Chay comes over and Julia shows him her bright red ultra distressed neck and he says “it looks good” because he is a shady ass fucking liar. As he puts new makeup on over her existing makeup (???) Julia talks and talks about the other women and how they said things to her and she said things to them but then they said things back to her and Chay just keeping saying “ooooh” and making big eyes at her like he gives a shit. Chay, you are earning that check.

Angela goes furniture shopping and invites Michelle to come with because Michelle may or not be an interior decorator. Not sure why we can’t get to the bottom on that one, but the show moves on so so do I. After they look at ridiculously overpriced and ugly furniture, Angela invites Michelle to come see her apartment sometime and Michelle is like sure but I still hate you so probably not.

Anne preps for the Pussy Galore party with her husband. She says, “Maybe we put some cats around here,” and I was like, sure, some cat statues or whatever, but then her husband says, “Which cats the dead cats?” and OH MY GAWD WHAT? Anne responds, “Darling, they’re not dead, it’s their ashes.” So, when Anne and cat love each other very much, when that cat dies she has it cremated and put into a box with a picture of the cat on the box and poem about that cat’s personality on it so she can look at the little cat ash urn and cry. Way to play favorites with your cats, Anne.

Just before the Pussy Galore party starts they blow a fuse and Anne is freaking out. She teeters around the house with this obscenely teased hair yelling at people but doing nothing. She yells at her handyman and her husband and then just drinks champagne and then calls an electrician. He comes and fixes it. WHEW I WAS SO WORRIED.

People arrive at the party and I do not understand the dress code. Anne is in a naked dress, but some people are in cop outfits, and everyone else is wearing cat ears. What is the aesthetic? Arresting frost bite pussy realness? It’s cold and the party is outside so lots of people came in coats, but they’re also fur coats. Like, “Save the cats! But not the cats whose dead carcasses I’m wearing right now - fuck those cats!” Anne is cold but she refuses to put on a fur coat because it would be inappropriate. Great to know that you have a line, Anne.

Angela brings Lea and wears a skin tight cat suit and also a coat that is not made of fur. Well done! Julia arrives and is wearing the same cat suit as Angela but at least they aren’t made out of actual cats. Louise shows up wearing her fur coat on purpose because she doesn’t give a single fuck.

Gilda arrives last and says that “I’m stepping into the gathering of the terribles.” She refuses to kiss Louise because Louise was the person who said, “Gilda used to be a call girl” on camera. Anne has given up on not being a dick and is now wearing her mink coat. Michelle tells her that it’s really in poor taste and Anne says, “I’m going to die otherwise” and Michelle says, “You could go put on a normal coat,” and Anne says, “I don’t own any coats that aren’t fur.”  LOOK AT THIS ANIMAL LOVER RIGHT HERE.

Louise and Gilda talk it out and Louise explains that she was tricked by Angela into saying the call girl thing out loud. Gilda asks, “Did you believe what you said?” and Louise responds, “I don’t know what to believe,” so they really should still be fighting but instead they’re making up. I guess that either Gilda was a call girl or Louise is her weed hook up.

Julia takes Michelle on an unauthorized tour of Anne’s house. They laugh at Anne’s decor because Anne is old and it’s hilarious. They find a cassette tape and Michelle almost pees herself.

Back in the Pussy tent, they’re getting drunk and bored. Michelle yells “Who wore it better?” referring to Angela and Julia wearing the same cat suit. She then says that Julia definitely wore it better and dramatically tosses her wrap over her shoulder and it lands on a man’s face and he doesn’t even flinch.

Michelle then, seemingly unprovoked, goes HAM. She whisper-screams to Angela “Pull in your tummy! Your tummy! Your lower stomach! Pull it in!” which is so rude I mean, Angela sucks but publicly shaming her for having a visible stomach pooch is really classless. Like, I have a tummy, you have a tummy, we all have tummies, and if Instagram has taught us anything it’s that tummy pooches are in right now. Like, if you are offended by the fact that I refuse to hide the fact that I have a tummy pooch then GET MAD and STAY MAD and also GET FUCKED.

Back to Michelle bullying Angela, Angela doesn’t immediately lose 30 lbs so Michelle turns up the volume and screams, “IT’S A CATSUIT” like only certain people can wear certain things and if you, a woman with a tummy, want to wear a catsuit then you have to suck in your stomach the entire evening. And I hate Angela you guys but I’m on her side here - Michelle is being awful.  Angela shoots back that she’s a size 10 which: why are you saying that like if you were a size 16 it would be OK for Michelle to yell at you but because you’re a size 10 she has to stand down? LADIES, STOP SELF-ENFORCING PATRIARCHAL NONSENSE. Michelle responds that there’s no way Angela is a size 10 she’s definitely a size 12 and she should embrace it because there’s nothing wrong with being plus sized because being plus sized means that thin women are emboldened to scream that they’re disgusted by your stomach pooch at a crowded party. Angela says that she represents the average New Zealand women and Michelle says nuh-uh and Angela says you’re not even a real New Zealander and Gilda says wait a fucking second what makes a real New Zealander. And then Angela pivots to attacking Gilda so I don’t have to defend Angela anymore THANK GAWD.

Angela tells Gilda, “You’re the little runt” and then tells us that she, Angela, is the big runt of litter and the big runt always gets picked first and I DON’T THINK SHE KNOWS ENGLISH, YOU GUYS.

Anne, from the stage, tries to get the women to shut up so they can start the auction. Michelle models the fur coat and people bid on it and I guess when your income reaches a certain level you can no longer feel cognitive dissonance.

Angela offers a style package for auction and the only people who bid on it are Julia and Lea, Angela’s assistant. Get that big runt, girl!  

Auction over, they all laugh and dance as though they aren’t going to go home and cry on their kitchen floors after