Dateland: The Real Lesbian Housewives

Friends, I have a dirty secret. And since I have never been able to keep a secret, I will confess it now. I am addicted to Bravo TVs “Real Housewives” franchise. Since this is a gay magazine, I know that most of you share my addiction and, so, I feel safe confessing it to you.For those of you who don’t watch the show(s), here’s a quick summary of the inanity that is the “Real Housewives.” It’s a reality show that follows “real” housewives in different cities. Not all of the women are wive,s and many of them don’t have houses (the rate of foreclosure among this crowd is astronomical), and several of their body parts aren’t real. They spend most of their time pushing food around their plates at fancy lunches, screaming, drinking gallons of white wine, yanking on each other’s weaves, and vacationing in exotic locales with women they loathe.

As I watch, always with a large cocktail in my hand because their nonsense is impossible to stomach while sober, I dream about creating a Real Lesbian Housewives of (fill in name of city here).

Now before my gay boy readers cry “boring!” and before I shake my head sadly and agree, “yes, it would be terribly dull,” let’s create a cast of characters who might make a lesbian housewife show worth watching while drunk.

Ingrid: A buxom, blonde Swede who is always getting herself into romantic pickles thanks to her incomplete grasp of the English language. When we first meet her, she is on a date with a creature she met through an online dating site. “I thought the ad said it is Episcopalian, but my English isn’t so good. Turns out it actually said it is an alien,” Ingrid explains with a giggle as the creature strokes her blonde hair with a goopy tentacle. “But we have a lot in common. We both love to travel and scrapbook. There are challenges, of course. For instance, it doesn’t have a mouth, so we can’t kiss, but it does know how to use those tentacles if you know what I mean! I’m really falling for it.” By the third episode, the alien’s dozen eyes have started to wander, and it starts a secret affair with Ingrid’s favorite potted fern. Drama ensues!

Delores: An Italian, Hispanic, Israeli, Iranian, African-American spitfire with an appetite for red sauce and ex-cons.  “I love danger!”, Delores exclaims while cooking a vat of pasta on a hot plate in a prison parking lot, waiting to hit on recent parolees. She soon becomes involved with a serial scofflaw, who ruins a dinner party with all the Real Lesbian Housewives when the cops show up to arrest her for parking in a loading zone. A fist-fight breaks out among the guests. No one knows why. As the housewives debate why the fight started, Delores calls Ingrid a slut, which leads to more fisticuffs.

Judy: The girl-next-door who has a terrible secret! We know she has a terrible secret because she keeps telling the camera crew that she has one! We begin to suspect, however, that she has no secret. It’s simply her way of getting camera time because her life is so devastatingly boring. On the series finale, when the rest of the lesbian housewives demand that she reveal her secret, she locks herself in the bathroom and never reappears. No one notices that she’s missing.

Jennifer: Yes, me! Your beloved columnist. I will stir up whatever trouble is necessary to make this show a hit. I will yank on my own hair weave and issue a restraining order on myself! I will kidnap the other housewives’ pets! I will invite the other housewives to a deserted island and hunt them for sport. And then I will eat them.

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