Try as she might, Nikki can’t seem to harvest a backbone without her husband trivializing her efforts. When Nikki sarcastically remarked that she was sorry her trip to Madison meant she wouldn’t be home to fetch Victor’s slippers but that perhaps Zapato was filling the void in her absence, Victor told her not to flatter herself. Oh, snap. I think Nick and Victoria ought to buy those bullet proof vests after all. To add insult to injury, Ole’ Vic threw the woman’s movement back into the dark ages by asking his wife what more in life could she aspire to, having already married one of the world’s wealthiest men and birthing two beautiful children. Hey, this is America, pal, land of the free-to-be-an-ex-stripper-running-for-state-senate and home of the brave-enough-to-stand-up-to-your-sickening-sexism. YOU GOT THAT?
The time has come for the four horsemen of the apocalypse to drag Victor’s carcass away to the fiery pits of hell. This is getting to be too much for my delicate sensibilities.
According to Section VII, article a-214 of the do’s and don’ts of being a booze hound, no good can come from a recovering alcoholic owning a bar. Duh. Yet that’s the reality of drunken corporate puppet, Neil Winters. I had half a mind to call the Department of Health on him after I saw him put that bottle of whisky to his morning breath-tinged lips and return it to the shelf without thinking to wash the top or, even better, replace the bottle all together. Ewwwww.
How nice of the perpetual sinners of Genoa City to form a prayer circle at Indigo with the hopes of flushing Dru out of the woods and back into their lives. An admirable act if I ever saw one. The preparations for the affair reminded of the days Nick erected the Arabian tent in his back yard so that he and then-wife, Sharon could feast on enough food to feed a hundred people. Devon and Lily wrung their hands in anguish over whether or not the meals they had carefully prepared would be devoured by the huddled masses expected to turn out at their mother’s memorial service.   Rather than the large crowd they had anticipated, however, only a handful of people actually came, literally. I could count them on my two hands.
I loved how they complimented themselves for selecting Indigo as the location for the service as it was a place where Dru left her special “touchâ€. Well, that’s all fine and dandy but let’s not forget what the place is really known for—a dead body found in the back alley that Dru was eventually accused of killing.  We know this is the real reason two or three people show up each week to patronize the troubled club. My guess would be that they’re tourists who made the stop because it’s on the star map they bought from the newsstand at the bus depot. Bet there’s a new spot on that map now that identifies where Dru plunged to her death/freedom. That’s why there are so many damn flowers and teddy bears. Apart from Phyllis and the Winters, who else could be going up there to set up a vigil in her memory?
Man oh man, that Brad. What can I say about him that hasn’t already been said?  Did anyone else get the feeling that Brad looked just about ready to mount pizza-face Sharon on her hospital bed and do the nasty? Honestly, I’m impressed he managed to restrain himself. Victoria knew what she was doing when she picked up her skirts and ran off to Madison.
From her injuries it appears Sharon landed right on her face and it looks like the impact sifted some of the rocks in her head. I can’t think of any other explanation for Sharon finally coming to her senses where Brad is concerned. Brad, like many men, wants to have his Newman cake and eat it too. By telling Sharon that Jack doesn’t deserve her and insisting that she’s worth more than what he has to offer, it got me to thinking: what is Sharon worth, exactly? I doubt it’s much.
Oh no, Gloria, not you too? It seems we haven’t seen the last of the porn addiction story line. Gloria actually wanted to see Jill and Ji Min getting it on in the boardroom? Speaking of which, if these security cameras have been in place all along that means someone has been watching the executives having sex in there. I can’t fathom that security cameras would be installed in sensitive areas around a corporate office and the executives don’t know about it and, at the very least, watch what they say. How come the security cameras in the lab weren’t reviewed when Gloria mixed her deadly potion that eventually maimed Abby and killed a customer? Why would cameras be in the office of the CEO? Who ordered it put there? Why would a CEO want his/her every move and word recorded and reviewed by security personnel? I don’t think Latham thought this through before she belched it up on unto the storyboard. Too many holes, I don’t believe it. Moving on.
What a sight for sore wounds Olivia has turned out to be this week. Dr. Kevorkian’s understudy has been keeping busy in Africa I hear, working for the Doctors without Borders program. As if the plight of the African people aren’t dire enough they have her to contend with. Then again she could be an angel of mercy. The director of the program probably reviewed her 98% death rate at the God Have Mercy Hospital and thought she was the perfect candidate to put the suffering out of their misery.
Do you think Phyllis returned to the site of the motel she set on fire to kill her BFF Sasha Green? Just wondering.
Delivering the story line of diminishing returns this week was Amber and her pea-brained husband Cane. The saga of the discarded son continues and still no one has bothered to phone Nina and Philip III and inform them that they are counterfeit Chancellors. If they are so worried about the press digging up dirt, why hasn’t anyone thought that Nina and Philip might be contacted for comment as well?
If Michael wishes to continue to represent Cane he really should invest in an Aussie dictionary or maybe something for the people at home, like subtitles would be nice. I have trouble understanding idiots.
