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Fresh off the cacophony of questionable outfits, poor hosting skits and octoroon overcompensation that was the BET Awards, VH1 brought us an extra lit episode of Our Daily Shade, also known as Love and Hip Hop Atlanta, Season 5. Is it me or did Mona try to stuff everything under the sun into this episode - which simultaneously explored the reunion of Mimi and Stevie J, renewed Joseline’s thesbian tendencies, unveiled a Katt Williams twist AND highlighted the expansion of “Yung” Joc’s #aintshitnigga empire - all in 60 minutes?!?! Maybe this season will end before New Year’s Eve after all!

Mimi done had it yall! Or so she would have us believe, as she slams down the night bag belonging to one Stevie Jordan, unceremoniously shakes his ass woke and tells him to get the full, complete and entire hell out of her house. Why, pray tell? She found out that he was never married to Joseline. Remember that pretend radio interview last week? Well he admitted to the host that the marriage was all a hoax to promote their “magazine cover” - air quotes implied. How DARE he lie to her! I mean, he’s NEVER done that before! Stevie assures her that he didn’t want her to find out like this and PS, he’s done with Joseline now that she’s running around the city taking pictures with Rick Ross and thangs. In all fairness, Ricky Rosay is a gargantuan man and one need only be in his general vicinity to unwittingly take a picture with him, IJS. Mimi ain’t really tryin’ to hear all that, though. She wants Stevie J to get off her couch and out of her life. Never heard THAT before! Chile good day.


Meanwhile, doing absolutely nothing relevant is hard work, so Joc, Scrappy, Kirk and some other no count niggas decided to relax with a poker game at J Nicks’ house this week. Who the eff is J Nicks? Let my girlfriend tell it, he’s Dom DeLuise's face on Gary Coleman’s body. She ain’t nevah lied - I’ll allow it! Anyway, while the fellas are playin, Nicks’ professional skeet sock girlfriend Amber Priddy is wandering around doing things like spilling dranks on Yung Joc’s crotch and wiping them off with her bare hands. Nicks calls her on it, to which she responds by verbally chin checking him with cheating accusations of her own. Or do you think she didn’t know about Tiara!

Speaking of Tiara, it’s her week to be on screen again! And so we flash forward to J Nicks donning his best Lex Luthor swag to take her out on the town. He even took off his Harriet Tubman headwrap lord! Sadly, Tiara wasn’t looking her cutest this week - her weave was off and her face was looking real basic. My gf concurred with my initial ruling, and added that “bitches be transforming with that contouring and shit.” I don’t know if I’d say that for Tiara, but I will say that nothing much came out of the date. In brighter news, I’m fairly certain Tiara’s lady lumps are 100% real. That deserves a toast on this show!

So now it’s time for our Mama Dee moment. Because Mona is officially out of ways to even begin to make us care about Scrappy or his expansive neck, every week we have to be subjected to Mama Dee and her machinations to get her son laid. This week’s attempt found Mama Dee at a twerk class (see: seventh seal) preparing for her album, with Scrappy lookin’ on. Naturally, in walks Betty Idol for some more heavy-handed matchmaking. Father Gawd, Mama Dee is like Gargamel with the gotdamned Smurfs when it comes to getting her son some cooch - just obsessed! I’ve never seen a mother so invested in the welfare of her son’s peen. I guess that’s these modern parents. My parents aren’t allowed to acknowledge I have a vagina, let alone make plans for it. Scrappy clarifies, again, that it ain’t happening, before implying that he has someone else in his cross hairs. Poor them.


Now that I think about it, the overall theme of this episode was foolish hookups! From Karlie Redd canoodling with Katt Williams whilst rockin’ a baggy crotched catsuit at her presumably 72nd birthday celebration, to Joseline inviting Tommie to sample her well-worn cootie cat (dry heave) to MJessica Dymes cozying up to Stevie J during a faux recording session. And of course, Joc got in on the action, waking up shortly after poker night in a hotel with that ol’ Clairmont Lounge lookin’ Amber Priddy, talmbout he may have broke the bro code. Nigggaaaaaaa. Has he ever met a hot pocket that he didn’t want to sample? Like legit, he just an ole messy ass slore! Just 50 shades of triflin’, layin’ up in the bed with Amber - afterglow implied - trying to logic his way through how he’s going to tell Nicks he slam-bammed his ivory playthang without catching an immediate fade. Seems like they needed to find a way to inject “Yung” Joc back into this show again, what with him having no plausible career to fall back on. I guess all that’s left is watching him spread chlamydia throughout the greater metropolitan Atlanta area. *Kanye shrug* It’s a living.

This week’s emotional climax came care of Tammy who has suddenly decided to divulge that Waka ain’t exactly been husband of the year. He’s running the streets and she’s walking around the park in Midtown listening to sad music. And all this time we thought they were the Luke and Laura of our era. But seriously ,that poor thang couldn’t even bring herself to say the words “he cheated’ - she just tried to talk all around it. Well look on the bright side Tammy: You’re young, you’re cute when your face ain’t swole, and your ass sit up nice in a jumpsuit. Unless they hit you with that shot from below. Then it looks like a heavy chevy.

See yall next week!