Real Housewives of New York City Recap: The Moroccan Adventure Concludes (Finally)

Last week's episode of The Real Housewives of New York City ended with an epic face-off between Jill Zarin and Ramona Singer. The ladies threw down over years-old issues in an attempt to repair their broken friendship, and instead just made things way worse. The last we saw of Ramona she was laying on a bed in her lavish Moroccan suite, sobbing hysterically. In case you forgot, or just wanna re-live the awesomeness, it looked something like this:

I figured that was the last we'd see of Ramona, since drunks left lying on their backs often choke on their own vomit, but she was back to her old self on last night's episode, as the house-hoes finished off their Moroccan vacation in style. First stop: some restaurant where you can watch women dance for your money while you eat. You don't have to go to Morocco for that, ladies. The strip club on my street has 25 cent wings every Tuesday. After that, it was more sightseeing, and Jill decided to take her anger out on awesome tour guide Mustapha, by asking him a million goddam questions and reminding him why he's glad he doesn't live in a country overrun with uptight, over-privileged ball-breaking power b!tches. 

Meanwhile, back at Rich Chick Headquarters (Moroccan Compound), Alex and Ramona re-hash the previous night's fight, and Ramona tears up for the ninth time in 24 hours. "My relationship with Jill...the last 20 years, has been a sham," Ramona says in the kind of melodramatic confession only made by tipsy reality show starlets. Ramona and Alex went back to the hotel by themselves to sit around in their garish African robes (god, I can't wait til they get back to the states) and trash talk LuAnn, thus setting the stage for a potentially epic conflict with the head housewife.

Unwilling to wait for the feud to take shape naturally, Alex stomps downstairs (and interrupts LuAnn's henna session *gasp!*) and pulls some crazy Blanche DuBois routine in hopes of stirring up some drama. Amazingly, it doesn't work and the rest of the ladies basically call her on her bullsh!t. "You're being inauthentic," Kelly Bensimon tells her. "This is not how normal people act. You're crazy weird." Basically, Kelly gained a million of my respect points and Alex lost one (she didn't have many to begin with). Don't worry, ladies; I'll still accept sugar mama proposals from both of you. 

Kelly and Alex step outside to have what might be the most ridiculous argument ever captured by television cameras. ("Close your eyes," "OK I'll close my eyes and talk. I'm feeling..." "Now open them!") They go back inside and even Ramona, who Alex was supposedly defending, makes fun of Alex for being an over-dramatic ditz. Later, of course, Alex comes to dinner pretending everything's kosher, and friggin' loses it again! She gets sent to her room without supper and then, as though it wasn't already the world's most awkward dinner, Ramona and Sonja Morgan come to the table and get denied, too! Don't f*ck with Countess LuAnn, ladies! 

The next morning, it's finally time to leave. Everyone pretends they had a good time, packs their years' worth of clothes, and tries to pretend they didn't irreparably damage their friendships and hotel rooms. But before the airport, it's time for belly-dancing lessons (with Ramona being the only one with the balls to actually bare her midriff) and one final dinner, with a disappointing lack of drama.  The most important action of the night, however, took place back in NYC, where Ramona's husband, Mario tweeted a picture of himself flirting with a random bar skank, which to me served as definitive proof that dude is definitely not cheating on her. Take note, ladies: if your man is bold enough to post incriminating Twit pics of himself, he has nothing to hide. Unless, of course, he's Anthony Weiner.