God could she use an iced latte.Photo: Courtesy of Showtime
‘Weeds’: We Don’t Recommend the Toilet Paper
“That toilet paper is like wiping yourself with a brown paper bag,” Isabella says to Celia, stepping from the bathroom into the rusty-walled motel room that, if we’re not mistaken, is the same one that failing councilwoman Celia and ex-councilman Doug have been bonking in for the last few weeks.
Yes, poverty has struck Agrestic. Or at least a form of it is descending rapidly upon Nancy and Celia — the form which drives privileged suburbanites to suckle on iced lattes (Nancy) and lunchtime martinis (Celia). “How am I supposed to put food on the table if you keep upping my debt?” Nancy pleads to U-Turn, who has her turning tricks of a sort (namely, “break dancing” for a package). “Get a fucking job,” he shoots back.
Duh. Either the writers are continuing the show’s sadistic slide into Realityville (life ain’t all pot brownies and pizza parties) — or they’re setting us up to see Mary Louise Parker in chic vintage office attire, flirting with a cute new boss (we’re thinking a younger, spunkier councilman Doug, or a Josh Holloway–Peter Krause combo) and saying “bye bye” to terrifying drug lords.
For now it’s Realityville. Uncle Andy is parting his hair on the side and heading off to Iraq — or at least sunny Southern California boot camp. Duffel bag over his shoulder, he offers Nancy his pearl-inlay Les Paul to move on eBay for a cool $3,000. “Your room won’t be here when you get back,” announces Nancy, handing him a box of Twinkies wrapped in silver twine. “It’s a good time to rent, with the market and all. We all need to embrace change.” What is this, Operation Prime-Time Life Lesson? —Emma Pearse‘Weeds’: We Don’t Recommend the Toilet Paper