They've got these nearly life-size standups of Fitch Cooper The Face Of All Saints everywhere in the hospital, and giant signs in the subway and on the streets. This of course drives our ladies mental, and it's only a matter of time before one of them is defaced: I GRAB BOOBS. Gloria's response is eloquent, hilarious, and befitting her majesty.
Also grabbing boobs these days: Eleanor O'Hara, whose fervent lesbian situation freaks Jackie out at first. Seeing Eleanor giggly and romantic is weird and wonderful, but watching butch Jackie Peyton squirm between the two lip-stickingest TV lesbians in history is just plain wonderful. Eventually girlfriend Sarah's bedside manner -- with the husband of a doomed and suicidal soldier -- charms her into complacency, but we'll see where this is headed.
Other boobs getting grabbed include those of Zoey, by Zoey herself, as she tries to confirm whether she's pregnant based entirely on psychic powers. This in an episode-long stream of babble so intense than people actually comment on how weird Zoey's being. (Compared to what?) See the episode title for the answer to this little arc.
And finally, there's fuckin' Eddie, who has continued seeing Kevin despite Jackie's resuming their relationship. Over beer and ping-pong with the two of them, Jackie puts Eddie on notice. Yeah, that's what you should do: Taunt the obsessed psycho. Speaking of, Jackie snorts capsaicin and goes head-to-head with a rich dick guy, and Horrible Little Caitlyn Flynn, in remarkable but characteristically violent ways.
Fake-out drug image this week, accompanied by a wintry-sounding breeze and the drop of an old record, is the snow in a commemorative Shea Stadium snowglobe. Eddie brings Jackie her morning coffee, black with a little milk, and she sighs contentedly. His apartment is the bomb, painted brown brick and wrought-iron four-poster. She congratulates him on having "worked through [his] cotton/poly-blend phase," and then makes fun of his record player. "Now I forget, you have heard of CD's, right?" He tells her to listen to the lows.
"I pretty much stopped listening to music when the Teletubbies moved into my home," Jackie says, although given her (and this show's) terrible taste in music, that was sort of implied. He laughs, surprising her with his Teletubbies knowledge, but that joke in 2010 doesn't make sense anyway. It's not Teletubbies or Wiggles anymore, it's Yo Gabba Gabba. (And more than likely, that's already over and it's something else my spies haven't let me know about yet. Angel?) [Yo Gabba Gabba (and its sex toy looking characters) is still the hip, popular thing with kids. -- Angel] Sometimes this show doesn't tell the joke so much as describe the comfortable place a joke might reside, and I really hate that. ATeletubbies joke would have made sense when I was in college, which was like fifteen years ago.
Or maybe she's lying and actually has no idea what they're into. Maybe the last time she did, it was Teletubbies. Or actually, maybe Fiona and Grace are separately and together so fucking insane that you might as well say "Teletubbies" because it's easier than saying "Bumfights and Ingmar Bergman movies about playing chess with Death, respectively."
Fiona's like, "I don't have time for Teletubbies, Mom! I got a mumblety-peg tournament in half an hour."
Grace is like, "Teletubbies are stupid, Mom. When was the last time Tinky-Winky set himself on fire outside an embassy building?"
Anyway, Jackie feels weird about talking about her kids, both because they are weird and because she's thigh-deep in the swimming pool of perdition, talking to sexy Eddie in his sexy apartment about her whole other life in the other universe with sexier Kevin and their sexier mortgage. He teases her about that, making it seem like a love thing, and she finally breaks down and tells him, for once, about her family and how she sees her life.
"Tonight, Gracie is having a sleepover with her friend Kaitlyn." They agree that Kaitlyn is the worst, and Eddie asks about Kevin, what about his old friend Kevin, what's he up to, and all the smiles about Horrible Kaitlyn drain away. "Okay. That, I can't do." Seriously. Never talk to the one about the other, that's as bad as the cheating because then it's like laughing at them. She tells him, pursuant to this latter cause, that he needs to stop bromancing her husband: While it's cute, it's also mindbendingly terrible.