It’s Monday morning! My coffee is hot, but not as hot as my takes on “Real Housewives of Salt Lake City.” (I invite you to picture me twirling in a silver cocktail dress as I deliver this line, winking glamorously.)
I firmly believe that my life is only big enough for one extended cinematic universe, and The Bachelor franchise is happily devouring all of that space. We haven’t even done a cast bios episode for Michelle’s season yet and the women from [INSERT MYSTERY BACHELOR HERE]’s season have already been released?! Slow down!!
But Bravo was gonna get me in the end. Emma convinced me to watch the first two episodes of the second season of “RHOSLC” last week, and then she patiently talked me through all of my confused feelings at being flung into the maelstrom of backbiting, statement puffer coats, shady Twitter likes, and shifting alliances.
The show is an unsettling blend of aspirational fantasy and dystopian realism, from the witchy intro package in which the women hold hovering sno…
