When Life Gives You Lemons...

Put nine in a bowl! At least that's what Shannon Beader's introduction this season advises you to do.

Weeks have gone by without me even MENTIONING the start of the TENTH season of Real Housewives of Orange County. Now, a brief little history for ya, Real Housewives of Orange County (or, as I will affectionately call it for the rest of the time: RHOC) was the first Real Housewives location in the whole "Real Housewives" series. Just knowing that should bring tears of happiness, nostalgia & fear into your eyes.

Now, what we learn from the opening credits alone is that, housewives may come and go but Vicki Gunvalson is forever. Being the only original housewife still standing on the the OC series, she proudly announces in her tagline, "I'm the OG of the OC, everyone else... is just a copy."

Now, whether or not that is an accomplishment or something to feel deeply embarrassed about is debatable. However, being the sentimental biddy that I am (lol?), I am gonna go ahead and say I am proud of Vicki for sticking it out for all of these years. Never once did she let any of these vapid, blonde (or the occasional brunette) morons scare her away. No, she is the original vapid blonde and, no one... NOBODY... can take that away from her.

Nope.

So, the opening of the season was pretty standard. Vicki's shady boyfriend allegedly has cancer (some speculate that he is faking it), Tamra's crazy ass is wayyyyyy too excited to be a new grandmother (or as they like to pathetically call it: a glam-mother), Heather has way too much money (money enough to feed about 3 countries in Africa for years), Megan (the new housewife) needs to be fed a sandwich with some of Heather's money and FINALLY, Shannon... Oh, poor Shannon.

There have been times I have been watching Real Housewives over the years and have felt highly discouraged. Sometimes the show becomes way too real for me. Don't the fucking editors realize that we do not want our reality television to be ACTUALLY real? We want it to be mindless and frivolous. 

Exhibit 1: Flashback to Real Housewives of Beverly Hills' Taylor Armstrong's abusive relationship with her sleazy husband Russell a few years back was mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, politically and anaerobically draining to me and my fellow reality television devotees. What's more, that whole ordeal ended in Russell committing suicide (like, FOR REALSIES) and Taylor discovering his body hanging in her closet. I mean, shit just got way, way too real.

Now there's Shannon. Shannon's real, genuine misery radiates through your television. 

Last season we were introduced to Shannon and her family. Shannon is a true, authentic housewife: unemployed, raising three kids with (or for) a husband who alternates between catatonic, whiny and apathetically eating chips & salsa. The camera is careful to catch (thanks to Bravo) every moment of Shannon yelling (and seemingly "nagging") her husband, looking for any kind of reaction that she can from this lifeless shell of a man. The camera alternates between her yelling at him and her interviews as she sits crying to the audience, saying how she feels like her husband doesn't give a fuck (and as far as we can tell, Shannon is right on the money).

Now, the thing that kills us all the most is that Shannon is so goddamn likable. It is one thing when it's Kyle Richards (I mean, who CARES about Kyle) but Shannon actually seems like a chill ho. 

So, fast forward to this season. We learn during this season premiere that... *SPOILER ALERT*... he was cheating, all along. Surprised, we are not. However, Shannon's reaction to the affair is something straight out of an Amy Schumer skit.

"We're just kind of on hiatus because he made out with somebody at a party in front of me, and I totally overreacted. I tried to apologize, but it was too late."

Shannon is a complete wreck and there's no end in sight for this cluster fuck of self-delusions, self-loathing and self-destruction.

So Shannon, about your your introduction this season. When life gives you lemons, you do not put nine in a bowl. You take those fucking lemons and you fucking throw them at his cheating, lying, chips & salsa eating face. Then, you take a knife and you cut off his balls. Then, you put his balls in the bowl. Then, you leave and you take those chips and salsa with you... and you bring them straight to me.

Because, who doesn't love a delicious bowl of chips and salsa?

XOXO,
Jules