The Real Housewives of Atlanta recap: Sweep, Sweep, Twerk

Welcome back, ATLiens — it’s time to get wild! Wait, what’s that? This episode will mostly be about household chores and wedding dresses? Alright, we can work with that, too.

Tonight’s episode opens up on Kandi exploring what is apparently her new office space, because if you put together all of the square footage in Atlanta that Kandi doesn’t own, you’d basically just have The Varsity and the Georgia Aquarium (but she’s edging in on Dolphin Encounters pool). The camera pans over her wall of accolades to her manager Don Juan (never gets old), who’s showing her the most recent developments. It’s notable that Kandi has an actual manager as opposed to a “Friend/Nanny/Assistant.”

Don Juan is worried he might not be around for long though, secretly because Kandi makes him sit in ” target=”_blank”>a bright pink patent leather chair while she sits in a dignified matte gold one, but openly because he’s not sure where he’ll fit in once Kandi is married to Todd. But whereas Mama Joyce seems to be worried Kandi’s giving tree might stop growing houses once Todd is legally in the picture, Don Juan is reasonably concerned about his actual job, which is dependent on Kandi continuing to work her ass off.

The Best Businesswoman to ever Business says not to worry, she’s not going to turn dumb or stop working just because she gets married: “I mean, I love love and all, but I love business and money too.” Perhaps everyone should be a little more worried about Todd in this situation?

It’s time for Mr. Gregg’s Weekly Domesticity Hour! This week’s lesson: sweeping. Listen, I went to a public school in the South where girls would openly tell anyone who would listen that it was their time of the month so they didn’t have to do a few walking laps in P.E., but never in my life have I heard anyone rattle off as many excuses in a row as Nene did when Mr. Gregg asked her to help him sweep. In order of utterance:

– “I gotta go lay down.”

– “I’m allergic to that stuff.” Hard to know exactly what she’s referencing here, unless I’ve been sweeping without the right “stuff” my whole life.

– When given a reasonably sized push broom: “Well, if I had a normal-size broom. This is for a damn school!”

– When given a smaller broom: “No, I got used to the big one.”

This is all followed by a great deal of sniffling and allergy-induced face scrunching while on the phone with her manager, Stephen (really losing the name game to Don Juan there, Steph-o), who lets her know that Glee is definitely being pushed back and he’s not sure when she’ll next be on the show. Nene takes the news professionally on the phone and then very calmly says, “OK, my life is over,” in her confessional.

Mr. Gregg is outside shuffling around in what I would bet a month’s salary are slide-on shoes, sweeping little spaces of the patio like he’s never touched a broom in his life – guys, this is sweet and all, but we know you don’t clean your own house – ready to try and make his wife happy. He tells her that now it’s just like the good ol’ days, with Nene as a housewife and them both spending time together at home. But Nene is a brassy blonde actress now; she wants to be back in L.A. She bustles back inside, probably to a tanning bed or to pretend like she’s in a peaceful two-hour traffic standstill, as Gregg cries out to her, “Oh baby, don’t leave me!” I know there was that whole radio kerfuffle and he’s had some moments, but I can’t help but love that man now.

NEXT: Peter is the nurse of your nightmares

Speaking of men we love, let’s check in with Peter and Cynthia. Oh no, I’m sorry, sometimes my brain synapses stop firing because I physically gag so hard when I see Peter. What I meant was men who are inhumanely unsympathetic to their wives. Peter is escorting Cynthia to the hospital for her fibroid surgery, so there’s that; he didn’t just call her a cab or drop her off in a basket, at least. Cynthia is visibly nervous about her surgery, saying that no matter the procedure, there’s always “small room for era.” That’s not a typo. That’s what she said.

And that’s fair, surgery is scary stuff. The nurse, who has maybe the only noticeable Southern accent I’ve ever heard on this show, comes in to get Cynthia prepped and asks if she’s shaved her groin area. Peter does his best to not laugh like an 8 year-old, and fails, as 8-year-old jerkwads usually do. Cynthia acts shocked that Peter is going to stay during her surgery and, frankly, I’m shocked too. But not for long! Stay tuned in a few paragraphs to see how Peter treats Cynthia after she comes out of her surgery. This can be a fun game. I’ll give you some multiple choice answers: A. Peter consoles Cynthia, assuring her that her recovery will go smoothly; B. Peter makes Cynthia feel like less of a woman because she wouldn’t have sex with his old bones every night while dealing with severe stomach cramps and blood loss; C. I skip this segment of the show.

While Cynthia is in surgery, Porsha is wandering around her mom’s house, which she has taken by squatters rights, with what appears to be one dog with two heads that is one-eighth the size of a normal dog. Porsha is excited to have all this girl time with her mom and half-sister. Divorce is way fun, you guys! Wait, no it’s not, because sometimes your ex-husband sends you a truckload full of your old stuff that he appears to have hired Edward Scissorhands to pack. Porsha’s sister innocently thinks that a box labeled “cloths” will be full of towels.

Porsha looks through the boxes, remembering how Kordell used to always want to buy her cloth(e)s and purses and make her look a certain way. According to the ” target=”_blank”>sandal she’s holding up, that way was like a middle-aged fifth grade teacher who’s having trouble transitioning back into the school year after summer vacation. When Porsha finds the corset to her wedding dress haphazardly packed and torn, she says, “This is something that a queen would do.” In case you’re not clear, she goes on to say that Kordell wants to let her know “woman to woman” what he thinks of her. Girl, I get what you’re trying to do here, but as a woman, I would prefer that you keep all Kordell associations out of my gender identity, k?

NEXT: Kenya wonders Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (seriously)

**Retraction alert: I could have sworn that Kenya was saying Tanya when she was talking about that jerk Tanya last episode, but apparently, she was talking about her old pal Conya, who she brought to at least one Housewives-sanctioned charity event last year.**

I now know the landlord is Conya, because Kenya is talking about her the moment the camera hits her precisely contoured face. Sometimes I think about if one of these shows were to follow my life, which storylines they might find most interesting and choose to focus on. I would feel really bad about myself if they combed through all of the footage and thought, “Yes, eviction – that’s the ticket!” (But I do live in New York, so, really, the best options are fear of not being able to pay my rent or, like, who tried to lick my face on my walk to work every morning.)

Anyway, Crazy Conya said Kenya had to be out of the house today. Brandon, Kenya’s assistant/producer (not an assistant producer, mind you), says “this was never about you, this was about her.” Brandon is obviously a suck up, because this would be the first time in the history of the world something wasn’t entirely about Kenya. Is there an alternate universe where Conya stars on Real Landlords of Atlanta and dramatically says things like, “I am displacing people from their homes,” while twirling counter-clockwise?

Brandon says that Conya is just jealous, to which Kenya sassily replies in her confessional, “You’re not me, Blanche, you’re always going to be in that wheelchair.” Either Conya is actually in a wheelchair and that’s highly offensive, or Kenya really hasn’t seen that whole movie.

Kenya basically just implied that she was a maniac anyway, so she might as well twerk all over her furniture for good measure. She couldn’t have known she was going to be about three months too late on the twerk train while filming, but she could have at least given it a little more effort. I can’t take anyone seriously who dances in flip flops.

It’s time to check in on Extreme Hoarders: Phaedra Edition, and you know what that means: precious kidz! Three-year-old Ayden has the most adult conversation I’ve heard all season, ” target=”_blank”>telling the cute photographer who’s there to take their family photo that his last photo shoot was “in June or July.” I’m not positive that I was actually speaking by the time I was 3, let alone aware of which months were next to each other. I still frequently skip October when going through the lineup and I have a college degree.

Phaedra is having the whole family dress in white because she thinks black people in white “are just like angels.” Not currently being an angel: Apollo, who’s in the bathroom griping about how he didn’t have time for this today. This, being a picture with his family. Apollo and Phaedra argue behind closed doors, which means we’re treated to Phaedra subtitles: “Ugh, I’m fittin’ ta have a moment.” Apollo better start acting right because there are a lot of cute men roaming around their completely bare house right now (for mostly unspecified reasons), and I’m just saying, a girl could get ideas.

The whole family sits on ” target=”_blank”>the only chair I’ve ever seen in that house for the photo shoot and I am officially starting a petition to get a weekly (furnished) one-hour show just about Ayden and Mr. President (real name, unknown and unnecessary).

NEXT: From the mouths of babes: Mama Joyce is trippin’

If the people demand more brooms from their entertainment then, dammit, Bravo will give them more brooms! Kandi’s daughter Riley is outside sweeping their basketball court – what, did you think Kandi wouldn’t have a basketball court? – so Kandi comes outside to have a casual, color-coordinated (both hair and clothing) conversation about Mama Joyce’s accusations against Todd last week.

No 12-year-old girl should have to be on camera talking about her emotions, but Riley quickly establishes that her MeMo is a fibber and she encouraged her to be nice to Todd, not the other way around. But she assures her mom that her grandmother’s over-protective behavior will “probably change when you get married.” Oh Riley, sweetie, you are an intelligent, highly mature young lady, but you are so, so wrong. She goes on to give some more sound advice though, and that on top of the physical activity they’re getting for this whole segment makes me think maybe Kandi Burruss should raise all of the Bravo children.

I don’t want to dwell on this, but Peter brings Cynthia home from the hospital after her surgery and she tells him thank you for taking care for her. He’s all, “Hey girl, no problem, I basically did it for myself, so you’d stop being so grouchy and mean to me.” Cynthia manages to not choke him, so he goes on to say to the woman who has just had surgery to remove tumors from her uterus that he assumes she’ll be hopping back on the sex wagon now that she’s all cured of her fibroids and whatnot.

Peter and Cynthia then talk about their past and future sex life and I have to ask my roommate to take the remote control into the other room so I don’t break the fast-forward button in my haste to erase this moment from my mind. Cynthia makes a sex slave joke. It’s charming. But then she burps in Peter’s mouth.

Kandi goes to see Porsha at the house which she’s taken by pirate force, to make sure she’s doing OK after the divorce. She is not. I know Kandi’s strength is not emotional conversation, but she is asking all the wrong questions here — for example, if Porsha considered working it out with Kordell. Do I need to say it again: TWITTER DIVORCE!

Porsha tells her that she did consider it, all while implying over and over that Kordell is attracted to men. Kandi says she’s known men like Kordell and they just want to be loved, but sometimes they “lash out in a bitchy way.” As I watched this show very carefully, I just want to make sure that everyone is 100% clear: Kordell is feminine. He likes ladies’ clothes, he is emotionally volatile and, according to Porsha, he is an actual woman. The producers and cast are sending this message very subtly, so if anyone has any questions, just let me know.

NEXT: Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they come for you, Ken-ya, Ken-ya?

Kandi then very casually asks Porsha if Kordell ever beat her, and Kandi is being super weird right now. Maybe it’s because she isn’t wearing any maroon or making any money, which seems to be when she’s most at ease. But, no worry, Porsha responds that maybe Kordell “just shook [her] a little bit,” while the two laugh and laugh. Ah, girl time, it’s the best! Kandi finally gets her act together to tell Porsha that she had a bad experience but she can learn something and get back out there and find a better life for herself.

A Moment of Clarity in Porsha Stewart’s Sad But Honest Trip to Self-Discovery: In what is perhaps the most poignant moment of Porsha’s life, she says that divorce feels like a death in the family. “Every time I drive to my attorney’s office, it’s like I’m driving to a funeral…because it’s something that I wanted for the rest of my life.” I mean, she says it all at the absolute highest and loudest register a human’s voice can reach, but still…heartbreaking. She meant everything she did as a wife and a mother (I’m not crying, my throat’s not tight) and she couldn’t even share her confusion with the other women because she was afraid of a judgmental “I told you so.” Which is exactly what she would have gotten because, well, they told her so.

I would like for Kandi to write a next-generational “I’m Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman”-esque anthem to help guide Porsha’s autonomy awakening. Goodness knows she needs it.

Finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for: Crazy Conya is calling the cops on Kenya, but not before Kenya finds Conya’s old wedding dress in the basement and twerks all over it as “the ultimate payback.” I’m really starting to question Kenya’s understanding of what makes someone look good and what makes someone look bad. (That’s the dumbest thought I’ve ever had.)

Conya has arrived at the house to curse a lot and say that it’s officially time for her to be out of there and straight up calls the cops on Kenya. Kenya says she’s just doing it for the attention of “the blog magazines,” but I question if a woman looking for her moment in the spotlight would choose to wear ” target=”_blank”>zip-off capri pants and a child’s size-medium t-shirt. But I don’t work for a fashion blog magazine, so what do I know?

Most Valuable Housewife: Kandi for helping Porsha move on (after a couple of missteps), treating Riley like an adult, and continuing to put bread on Don Juan’s (and half of Atlanta’s) table.

Best Line: Undoubtedly Conya’s description of Kenya to the 911 operator: “A description of Kenya Moore? Uh, Black. Female. Medium build. Tall. With weaves and, uh, contacts and implants.” Ironically, I think that’s how Kenya might describe herself, but with a little more mention of her booty.