Back to the Badly-Parenteds. Bad Mom is wearing this totally awesome cool blue striped thing that wraps around her all over the place. She looks great. (Although I personally think she looks a little unlucky, if your spirit guides know what my spirit guides mean by that.) They go to play roulette, because Justine said so. There's some unrelated spinning-wheel roulette wheel footage. The ball falls into the "eight" space, and everyone who talked to Justine screams because everyone's lucky number is seven. Like, in the world. Brian says, "I'm not playing next to this lady anymore. Not tonight." And he's not talking about Fran Drescher, or Leona Helmsley, or any of the people that would make me say that. "I refuse to play roulette near La La."
Interview with Bad Mom, which I'm sure we all assumed would be a bleep-a-thon not seen since last night's syndicated episode of Cops. But no. She starts "interfering" with her own "female energy," because she hates it, because we're back in colonial Salem. "Brian cannot gamble while I'm there. It is an interference. It interferes with him." No, fuck that. You deserve every single thing you hate about yourself, because I hate it too. Hang on while I go back to the beginning of the recap and remove absolutely anything nice I ever said about you. Except the dress, because that looks great, and your behavior is not its fault. You won't be going to Disneyland immediately, but there's another kind of Disneyland you'll never, ever see, because you don't deserve it. Horrid woman. "If I had not actually been at the table every single time with him, I think he would have done better." You stupid woman. It's fucking roulette, not the stock market. There's no skill. There's a ball going around and some "always bet on black" crap and some lucky numbers that your psychic gave you. You cannot screw that up, your Crucible crap cannot screw that up. 'Tis physics, fair lady. Goody Cornflake. You ruin womanhood. You are walking backwards through the feminism march with a big sign that says "I'm DIRTY" and knocking people over without noticing you're doing it. Alice Walker would punch you in the fucking eyeball. Not that I hate Brian less: when Psychic Girl told him Disneyland was not "in the immediate future," what that really meant, as it turns out, was that he should have just gone home. Meaning that he should have cut his losses, taken whatever was left of the Vegas money, and spent it on...not their kids, obviously, but...I don't know. A grill. A boat. Whatever self-indulgent, neglectful parents spend money on.