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Here’s a sentence I never thought I’d write: Karlie Redd was the best thing about last night’s Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta.

Outside of Karlie’s under-appreciated materialistic bird anthem, “Louis, Prada, Gucci,” I never sent an RSVP to any Karlie-related event since it gave “old broad at the pity party” teases. However, last night, Karlie, you did it, ma’am. In a single episode, Karlie Redd had a cosmetic line opening at a mall kiosk, sucked Yung Joc's finger at a restaurant like it could ejaculate, and fought a real estate agent while she tried to show a home. That, kids, is how you stay on a Mona Scott Young production after hearing louder screams of, “Get rid of that woman already. She’s boring!”

As for the cosmetic line, it’s called Karlie Redd’s Sins and Forgiveness. Maybe Karlie got the idea for that name while attending 11:00 a.m. service at Bedside Baptist, or, at the very least, while doing something that made her shout out “OH GOD!” Anyway, Rasheeda showed up to support and throw casual shade (i.e. asking if she’ll need take Benadryl to try Karlie’s lipstick) and she arrived with Kaleena from Diddy-Dirty Money. I thought Kaleena was supposed to be a main character on this show—apparently not.

Whatever the case, she said she wanted free samples. Of course you do, girl. You worked with Diddy. We understand.

When Karlie wasn’t coming for Mary Kay’s crown, she was trying to win back Yung Joc’s heart. So she met Joc at a restaurant that looked inspired by the décor found in a Golden Corral. Joc wasn’t feeling Karlie’s “please, baby, baby please” pleas so Karie Redd turnt up her efforts by taking Joc’s finger and sucking on it as if it could get her pregnant.

The reconciliation seemed to be going smoothly until it was time to see the would be home the two planned to live in together. As Joc (purposely) stepped out of the kitchen, Karlie confronted his multi-talented friend to ask a very important question: “Are you fucking my man?" To which she replied, "Yes, I absolutely am fucking your man." Yes, I absolutely am. Every night."

And that’s when a brawl broke out. As for Joc’s special friend: She does taxes. She is a driver. She is a stylist. She does real estate. She fucks your man. What a renaissance woman. Even better, she’s a realtor fighting in the home she’s showing.

Atlanta reality stars and wannabees: I adore your shamelessness.

Speaking of no shame, Joseline and Stevie J are doing a horrible job of convincing the masses that they are legally married. First, while at dinner, Stevie told Joseline, “I wanted to marry you when I first met you.” I haven’t laughed that loud since watching Ashanti ass-scoot across the floor on The Queen Latifah Show. It only got worse once Stevie and Joseline had conflicting wedding dates (June vs. July). A part of me assumed that dates might get blurry depending on your recreational activities (allegedly), but Joseline’s ex-booking agent Dawn flat out said the two were lying.

Dawn made this revelation during a meeting with Mimi. Lady, you’re screwing up any chance you’ll ever have of running someone else’s business affairs to score some few minutes of camera time. You can’t get booked off of that, booking agent, but good luck and God bless.

By the way, Dawn, a former stripper/prostitute possibly lying about a marriage on a overdramatized reality show is not exactly the proper recipe for destruction. And Mimi, be careful about “the facts” getting out. Your day of reckoning is coming.

Meanwhile, as for that comment Dawn made about Stevie J not having a hit since the Reagan administration: YOU’S A LIE.

Stevie J may be a lot of things—a serial cheater, an alleged deadbeat dad, substance abuser, and potential sociopath—but that man produced tracks on Mariah Carey’s Butterfly album and numerous Bad Boy hits. That’s at least the Clinton administration. And he worked on Beyoncé’s “Summertime,” which is a hood hit. Respect the legend.

If you want to bash someone, bash Kirk, who I’m truly surprised Rasheeda hasn’t stabbed yet. Maybe she’s waiting for her mom to hatchet him down or put him in an elevator with Solange. This disrespectful jackass had the audacity to bring a waitress he met at a sports bar to his home to take care of the child (whose paternity he questioned) without telling his wife.

So, as Rasheeda entered their home and saw this stranger with her child in her arms, she was noticeably pissed. Not pissed enough to file for divorce, apparently, but whatever. I hate to buy into the “reality show is scripted” narrative because that’s usually stupid, but how can this be real? Rasheeda, even Gandhi might be liable to karate chop Kirk in the throat. How are you allowing this to happen? Likewise, Kirk, Stevie J is suggesting marriage counseling to you. Look at your life and your choices.

In sad news, Bambi miscarried. Despite calling her a cheater on the season premiere, Momma Dee went over to Bambi’s home to comfort her.

For those questioning Bambi’s story, her publicist emailed me a photo of her in the hospital. Yes, of course, she has a publicist. Whatever Momma Dee’s “special soup” was to make “The Bambi” feel better, I bet it tasted like Kool-Aid mixed with Colt 45 and the banana red flavor of MD 2020.

I’ll leave you with this: Momma Dee looks like a Blaxploitation version of Maleficent.

Michael Arceneaux is from the land of Beyoncé, but now lives in the city of Master Splinters. Follow him at @youngsinick.