Will this torture never end? When will the authorities shut down the Carroll’s camp o’ shame? This week, we have the over-acting Heidi attacking Aviva.
Rather than go through the inane “exercises” taken from the “Dick and Jane Go To Therapy” series, let’s cut to the chase of what you all want to read about — the cat fight. It starts in the morning, when Spencer and Heidi are talking more crap about Aviva and Reid at the breakfast table as if their own s–t doesn’t stink. Aviva enters, tries to call a truce, and Spencer walks away, telling her to shut up.
Everyone runs through the phony lie detector test again. There’s a reason lie detectors test results are not admissible in court. They’re b.s. Jim tells everyone that it call comes down to tomorrow’s ring ceremony, so everyone is single for the night. This is the set up where Jim and Liz send everyone out hoping they’ll get drunk and get their stupid on. Creepy, right?
Well, leave it to Heidi to follow the program to a tee. She’s drunk and dancing like a stripper and telling guys to f–k off. Dichotomy. A word Heidi has never heard nor could she even spell it to look it up. Seems to me, marriage problems come from individual immaturity problems. There. I’m a counselor. Pay me some bucks.
Natalie tells us Heidi has an issue with Aviva. Even Natalie knows. On the party bus back home, Heidi is even more drunk and asks Aviva, “Aviva, can I have a f—ing water?” Aviva responds, “Don’t talk to me that way.” Heidi comes back with the witty riposte, “Aviva, don’t even f—ing play!” To which Aviva retorts, “Why don’t you shut up? Everybody thinks that you’re drunk and crazy.” Heidi says, “All right. I won’t talk to you.” Then Aviva says to no one in particular, “What the hell is her problem?” as Heidi goes to the opposite end of the sleazy party bus and starts to cry. “I just hate her. She’s the worst person ever. She’s disgusting me. She’s so awful, I hate her.” sobs Heidi.
Great editing on this show because we cut to a wide shot — and it’s gotta be wide to fit in all the big booty that’s in my face right now — where all of a sudden Aviva is standing over Heidi who’s in a little ball on the floor of the bus because using one of copious empty tufted-leather seats would be too difficult, and Aviva says, “Who are you? You’re wasted all the time.” And Heidi responds, “Get the f–k away from me. Get the f–k away from me for real! Honestly, get away from me!” I don’t know if drunk Heidi is more articulate or the non-drunk Heidi is more articulate. It’s a tough call. Heidi tells us everyone is her friend. Aviva doesn’t have friends. The normal person would of course realize that no, none of these people are anybody’s friends — they are merely acquaintances at this point in their lives — but that’s a difficult concept for the perpetually High School girl, Heidi. Aviva‘s voice of reason says, “All right. All right. Back away from the child. Back away from the infant in the house. Back away.” Aviva has children. She knows how to handle them. Why anyone is paying attention to the crying drunk Heidi is beyond me, but they are, and they listen as Heidi asks, “Did you hear what she said to me?” Uh, no. No one heard anything untoward. Aviva reminds her that “we didn’t even exchange words. She’s delusional. Heidi proves the point by saying “I don’t want to be on this bus with this bitch.” Well, the editing makes it look like she’s saying this just as they pull into the driveway, so that’s good timing.
In the house, Heidi tells us that “Aviva is like the fakest person I’ve ever met in my entire life.” Is she including herself in that statement? Has she looked in the mirror lately? Because that’s not the same face I remember from years ago. Anyway, Heidi starts in on Natalie for not being a better friend. Confusing since Heidi‘s the one who seemed to start the s–t. Rachel, being the second most immature one in the house, is the only who understands Heidi‘s pain. Everything is Aviva‘s fault. Their anger doesn’t come from being hooked up with ridiculous “men,” or being losers themselves. Their anger comes from a stranger being mean to them.
The next day will be the next show, and hopefully this will mean the end to our pain.
Wendy Owen is a freelance writer for All About The Tea.