Hey, gang. I’m back home for the week in Macon, Ga. I’ve got my laptop posted up on an ironing board and the one word that I attach most strongly with adulthood is “tired.” All our lives, whether it be romance or professional, artistic or otherwise, preparing to be tired has been my most valuable skill. Whether it’s weathering the night before, entering the next stage of life, or setting out onto some strange adventure — being used to being tired is a virtue.

We start out this week’s episode with our three princes — Austen, Shep, and Craig — recovering from their night of overindulgence. Craig is drinking out of the faucet. Shep has had a surfboard delivered to the salon where he is to get a haircut. Austen meanwhile is dressed as the Ghost of Boyfriends Past. He can’t find his phone and has the look of someone who woke up hungover and single, only to realize he’d be popping his own back zits for the foreseeable future.


Then, like some carb-rich angel, Craig arrives bearing burritos. He and Austen then begin recounting the events from last week’s episode that led to Austen breaking up with his girlfriend. This is good for those who failed to tune in last week, but the real meat of this scene is how utterly hungover Craig and Austen are at this point. Both can barely expend the energy to support themselves, so they are lying around like they’re having their humors drained in a Renaissance painting. If you opened an opium den inside a Hollister, it would look like Austen’s apartment.

To cap things off, Craig recommends that Austen watch Frozen because that’s what Craig does when he’s sad. There’s no real joke to make about this. I like it when people have a go-to piece of entertainment to get them through things. It’s good to know that we can still be affected by art. This is why I continue to watch Crocodile Dundee 2 repeatedly. I hope you have a Crocodile Dundee 2 of your own.

Jumping ahead to the maternal straitjacket that is Cameran’s life, she says she is “drowning in being home all day with her child.” That’s, ummm, that’s some real talk. Now, I may not be a parent, but I do understand that babies are little Nosferatus. They are bald parasites who literally feed off of humans, have questionable sleep patterns, and are a hallmark of 1920s German Expressionism.


Despite how adorable it is, Cameran’s child is still at that age where they are too young to ply with Dimetapp until they pass out, so there is really nothing a parent can do. Cameran does her best to get the baby to eat, but still she is someone who is trying to figure what motherhood is for her, as she raises her baby. Meanwhile, all the men on the show all got their dicks stuck in jacuzzi vents or befell some other such juvenile catastrophe.

Since all the men on Southern Charm got so wasted that they have to piece themselves back together, atom by atom, like Dr. Manhattan, we move onto the big girls trip that Kathryn was planning. Unfortunately, Kathryn is incommunicado.

The good news is that Kathryn is fine. She’s simply been traveling with her new boyfriend. The bad news is that she can’t comprehend why the people she’s invited on a treehouse getaway may have a few questions about the trip.

Despite everyone’s preliminary misgivings, the girls’ trip soon reaches the pinnacle of every vacation: a discussion of what people put in their butts. This begins as Chelsea alleges that some people put gummy bears in their butts. Cameran balks at this idea, asserting that she doesn’t even understand why “weiners” would go in butts. Like all conversations of this variety, we end on butt-chugging to cap things off. Or maybe I should say, to plug things up. Get it? Like a butt plug. A plug that goes in the butt. Moving on.

Kathryn explains that her boyfriend, the disgraced Florida politician, may soon move to Charleston. On a side note, he looks like Mr. Clean, if Mr. Clean stole all the outdated painkillers from your medicine cabinet.

Since things have yet to erupt on the girls’ trip, we join Eliza as she visits her (sighs in frustration) family plantation. In what seems like a deleted scene from Get Out, the family dog is named Strom, which seems like a reference to Strom Thurmond. Not to say that the dog is a racist, but are there any non-racists named Strom? Imagine someone saying, “Hey, this is my pet goldfish, David Duke.” Anyway, one time I had to interview Eliza’s dad, Chip Limehouse, about getting kicked out of a museum — a shenanigan that the likes of Ferris Bueller even managed to avoid.


Rejoining the girls’ trip, the ladies are arriving at their secluded treehouse retreat. Naomie says it reminds her of The Blair Witch Project, while Chelsea correctly references Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. If you don’t remember this Kevin Costner epic, it featured “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” by Bryan Adams, which is a song you definitely heard in your aunt’s car in the ‘90s.

We soon learn that the “luxury treehouses” are actually just houses. In the woods. Not connected in any way to trees.

As earnestly as I can say this, this is some white people shit. This is as white as skydiving and smelling like a dog when you get caught in the rain. This is as white as naming your plantation dog “Strom” and getting removed from the Confederate submarine museum.

Our treehouse ladies soon find themselves on a wine tasting, wherein Kathryn receives a thirst text from Whitney, asking, “Yo, where you at?” I like this because it affirms my suspicions that Whitney learned to communicate with humans from the Breakin’ film series after he crash-landed on earth.

Unfortunately, we then cut to Whitney on a coffee date with Shep, where he talks about his dog dying. GTFO with all that Whitney, but wait. The treehouse girls are grilling Kathryn on what Whitney is like in the bedroom. Why the editor of this episode decided to intercut a conversation about a dead dog and Kathryn’s thing with Whitney is beyond me, but maybe do better, editor.

In Kathryn’s absence, Danni and Naomie decide that tonight is the night to confront Kathryn about being a better friend. This really plays into my theory that all women hate each other. And no Pinterest treehouse is going to change that.


Anyway, Kathryn is soon grilled about why she hasn’t been in touch with anyone over the past week. Kathryn rebuts all allegations that she’s been unfriendly or whatever, but the biggest takeaway is that all the cast members hate the muscadine wine that all the treehouse folk keep trying to serve them. Their faces just go cold at the mention of muscadines, and it is hilarious to watch a troupe of debutants have to choke down unsavory wine as they enjoy a treehouse retreat.

We end this week’s episode on a “To Be Continued” so we’ll unhang that cliffhanger next week. I’ll talk to y’all then. Be safe.