Merry Memorial Day and what not. While y’all were gnawing on badly seasoned chicken and making up excuses for underbidding, Mona Scott was slaving over a hot stove to bring you this week’s serving of steaming foolishment BKA Love and Hip Hop Atlanta, Season 5. This week’s installment of confusion and shame brought us a Mama D mental health intervention, tidings of a new Stevie J bundle-o-joy, and a series of Tommie attacks that were proof positive that hoe is at least ¾ harpie.
We open at Cascade Skating Rink, where Jessica Dyme has donned a heat-seeking cat suit for a date with Scrappy. Only Scrappy isn’t there, having mysteriously been intercepted by Bambi, or so explains his stand in “Yung” Joc, who rolls up with a rose in his mouth. There’s some back and forth about Scrappy being lame and Bambi being more like Gumbi (Note to Jessica: Reading is fundamental and it looks like you need to go back a few grades…) ending with Joc inviting her to dinner with his leg kicked up and a come-hither stare. Why’d any of this happen? Who the fuck knows. I just know that ninja had on rental skates. RENTAL SKATES!
In more scintillating events, Stevie J is “throwing himself into business” with a hookah club venture. Read: Movie lie no longer working - abort and re-engage club myth. He’s interviewing C-level video heaux when in walks Sharknado AKA Tommie. She wants to talk bidnass with him, since Scrapp is going away and she has to get her hustle on. How else will she afford all these elaborate Lululemon ass Pink Pony skrippa outfits she wears daily? She models and raps because, end times. And naturally she wants to look to Stevie for assistance as the most relevant producer in these streets because, again, final days. Cue veiled teacher-student sexual innuendos climaxing (pun intended) with Tommie sensually standing up and revealing a dramatic yoga pants wedgie. That’s what we’re calling sexy these days? Eww. I bet the crotch smells like parmesan cheese. Anywho, Stevie J is disgusting, so he’s captivated and a sexual encounter is foreshadowed. In other news: What the entire, fully formed fuck was that white stuff on her ass?
My money’s on coke - a conclusion supported a few scenes later, when Tommie comes bangin’ on Scrapp’s door. But let me take a few steps back. Scrapp and Karlie have been hanging out hard. Scrapp feels like she’s “different.” Why yes she is different - she’s 50. But whaeva, her makeup was sittin’ in the name this episode, so I’ll let their mommy-baby fetish lifestyle live. They’ve even enjoyed a little hotel getaway. Only they failed to trash the receipt, which Tommie naturally finds in his car because, eye roll. So back to the bangin’ on the door. Don’t lil Sharkeisha ever get tired of comin’ to this man’s house like this? Better yet, don’t he get tired of answering?! She storms in, tears up the receipt, and then - after a moment of fake calm - propels herself from the couch onto Scrapp. Think octopus wrapping itself around someone’s head, or like, what those aliens were doing to Ridley. Mmmhmm, that’s that cocaina I said! To his credit, Scrapp gets her down on the couch before the Big Dudes come in from the sides to restrain her. Released, Tommie demands to know if Scrapp is fuckin’ Karlie. No, he scoffs before confessing to the audience that he only said that because his mother told him to lie to protect people he cares about. Can’t beat a mother’s love!
Tommie, whose ability to cycle between personalities is nothing if not impressive, collapses in tears before confessing that she plans on sleeping with Stevie J and the rest of Scrapp’s friends to boot. Yes gawd baby, that’s how you do it. You betta GET that syphilis! That’ll show his ass! *snap in z formation* Scrapp calls her pathetic, and she attacks again. Look, real talk, I dont’ give a pass to a chick who hits anyone, male or female. If you swing, you’d best be ready to get dazed. I know that’s a controversial stance, but I feel like having a vagina isn’t a pass to violate people with abandon and then cry as soon as you catch that good fade. Nope. Violence begets violence boo. And also, fuck Tommie. I’d love to see someone rock a bye baby her ass. The scene ends, but not before Tommie shames Scrapp for sleeping with Karlie who “has worms.” When I tell you I howled so good and hit that Anita Baker rock! Biiiiih! She said that, my good sir, is a beagle! You’d better stop playin’ and put those pills in her food like the vet said! Yaaaas!
Over in the slow lane, Mama D and Ernest are still having problems and Ernest needs advice. Who would be the best person to help him mend his relationship? Why Rasheeda’s mother Shirleen of course! I don’t need to fix things with my wife often, but when I do, I ALWAYS go talk to her worst enemy about it. Sir, I do believe you have the game sewed up! Shirleen says she thinks Mama Dee is more or less in the early stages of dementia. I say the late stages of schizophrenia, but what do I know. Ernest starts spilling tea about how Mama D was in nursing before she had a car accident and was forced to start pimping and selling drugs with him. Ohhhh k. Anyway, she’s bipolar (I could see that) and an alcoholic (well hello, we’ve all heard her voice) and they strugglin’. Shirleen says they should see a therapist. Thanks for that Shirleen! Ernest promises to take her advice to get answers to the question of why their marriage is failing. That’s all well and good, but who will answer the REAL Blue’s clues mystery: Where does he get them testimonial party shirts?
Later, Ernest and Mama D find their way to a pastor’s couch for counseling, which consists of Ernest saying he is basically Tina to Mama D’s Ike AKA point me to the nearest battered husbands shelter. Mama D repeats her refrain that she needs him to provide her with a steady supply of cash and wrankled paynus. Well I can’t speak for why she can’t get the latter, but as for the former, he is an 82-year-old ex con, and those ain’t exactly in high demand. So there’s that. The session somehow ends with them kissing, and me wondering if the next therapy session will address Mama D’s widening hair part. Can the pastor put some annointing oil on that or just lay hands on it or bind it or something? At the very least put it on the sick and shut in list.
Joseline has sniffed around, dug, rooted, flipped over boxes and finally after three and a half years, she’s found her contract with Stevie J! It was in a suitcase under the bed! Ma’am it took you that long to find somehting that was under the bed you presumably sleep on nightly? You’re wearing your sew ins too tight boo. Anyway, she’s now free to make music people will mock with any washed up producer she wants! Take that Stevie J! She plans on droppin’ this bomb on Stevie J, but not before Mimi comes and drops her own bomb: Stevie J wants to come live with her a while. Gir, wasn’t that like five episodes back when he asked to stay at the Do Drop Inn? Well, I guess we care again. Joseline somehow uses this to segue into Stevie J having an outside baby with one, possibly two chicks. Tears and Mimi's concerned teacher voice ensue. *kanye shrug* Nobody cares. Are Mimi, Joseline, Stevie J, Nikko and Stud Bae gonna form a plural marriage and have a spin off show or nawl? We’re all waiting - am I right?
The episode limped to its trademark dramatic close with yet more Tommie drama. I swear, I think they didn’t pick this broad up when she was an infant or something. Karlie Redd is in the studio wrapping up a taping of her Playboy show when Sugar Ray Tommie does what she does best - pull up on a kid, pull up on a kid! She walks in (don’t nobody lock doors no more??) and begins a Kill Bill-style confrontation with Karlie, who she says is an old thot who she will expose as a ho. You could’ve meme’d my face at that exact moment - like, Karlie, a hoe?!?! Next you’ll be telling me the Earth is round and Martin Luther The Kang is dead! Tommie’s perpetually active dynamite finally goes boom when Karlie reads her for wearing a koala coat, leading her to jump on a table. In all fairness though, that was clearly the finest in muppet pelt Karlie. Damn shame what they did to Animal.
See y’all next week!