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It’s where Susie pressed Bridget into sharing demeaning stories about her ex’s man-bushes and crooked penises, and it’s the evening Rose Shapiro first foisted (foisted!) her way back into her former house and critiqued his choice to cover the Italian flooring and remove her pirate-themed wallpaper. This all goes back to Larry’s fateful dinner, organized to celebrate his freedom from tyranny of the fatwa. Sadly, he not only loses the girl, but is also justified in his paranoia, as Bridget has already sullied his name around town as “Larry Long Balls.” (The length of his testicles is no secret to viewers, thanks to a season-seven disclosure.)
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All the man wants is a guarantee she won’t speak out of school to friends and family about their nighttime exploits should they ever call it quits. Lord only knows what took place in that bedroom behind closed doors, although absolutely nothing is going down between Larry and Bridget, who is repulsed by his attempt to foist ( foist!) a relationship NDA on her while in bed. Plus, he’s got money to lavish Susie with, after scalping Larry for $2,500 to reacquire his own comps. Jeff, naturally, enjoys the attention his new look is gathering from even foxy receptionists, only lamenting that it means, “I gotta keep fucking my wife.” Lucky for him, the Shucker is more than up to taking his stead (is this Susie’s first affair while the two are actively together?), and he’s freed up for a fling after Larry screws him out of Hamilton tickets for a second time.
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And, notably, Larry deadpanning, “Speakin’ of crazy, I mean what the fuck?” at the sight of his pal in full bolo tie and boots. Then again, there’s little about the Shucker (Steven Weber) to suggest he’d favor Western attire, but alas: He left his cowboy hat behind at Larry’s place after a night of slinging shellfish and seafood puns, Jeff inherited the thing, and before you know it, we’re privy to a profane bit of orgasmic love-making between Jeff and Susie “Fuck me, Tex” Greene. It’s still unclear why Jeff didn’t intervene and settle their differences, seeing as how he took so fully to role-playing the sheriff. Between David playing up his neuroses to the hilt as his HBO alter ego and Miranda making light of what people might assume are his pretensions, the two reach new - shall we say - heights of adversarial chemistry.
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And Larry is already fuming over Lin’s eagerness to transform Fatwa! into more of a hip-hopera. They’ve already physically tussled over who gets to claim the elevated boss chair in Lin’s agent’s office. Not that Larry and Lin-Manuel Miranda’s relationship could get much worse. If we’re in any luck, circumstances will converge around Sammi’s wedding, as they did so memorably at her bat mitzvah two seasons back.įor the time being, “Shucker” clams up about the repercussions of Larry’s conking out yet again in the midst of Hamilton, an outcome so clearly telegraphed one has to assume it will reverberate into the ensuing episode. More likely is, they’ll get some lip service. Maybe Susie’s wayward Little Sister, the comings and goings of Larry’s bodyguard Swat, and what happened in Tahoe will remain self-contained, or even dangled as unanswered question marks for a potential season ten. Next week’s season finale has numerous loose ends to either account for or not.
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How did we get here? How has anything in Curb Your Enthusiasm’s return season come to pass, really? We’ve had mufti tribunals, Revolutionary War reenactments, one gratuitous sexual digression after another, and an intertwined series of events involving Larry’s classing up a hooker and Funkhouser’s dead nephew. Sadly, he proves rather ineffective against elderly Rose Shapiro (who sold him his house in 2012) and her small dog, and even more overwhelmed by Judge Judy in her hallowed chambers. Larry has generally been able to rely on Leon as both muscle and wingman, whether it’s recovering a Joe Pepitone jersey, jolting Michael Richards out of a funk, or creating a distraction with little more than two hands and a pickle jar.