Since Jenelle's mom refused to spring her from jail, she had to call a bondswoman she knows -- 'cause like, who doesn't have "bondswoman" in their phone right between Bahhbrahh and Brittany? "Sup B-woman?? N2M, just in jail. Halp?? K thx bi!" Still, someone has to co-sign for the bond, so Jenelle calls heavyweight champ Tori (the one who punched her out) to see that lady. Unfortunately, aforementioned lady does not answer the door by saying "I'm Bond. Bail bond," which I find disappointing.
With a $10,000 bond at 10 percent, Jenelle will owe $1,000 right off the bat. She only has $200, so if she doesn't pay it back, Tori will be held accountable. Tori doesn't mind. She's like, "Are you seeing my black hair and blonde bangs? Do I look as though I'm someone who sweats the small stuff, like looking attractive?" Everyone deserves to have a Tori in their life.
The next morning, Jenelle wakes up to a few messages from her lawyer. He wants to see her right away, so she decides to ignore him and head down to the dock with Tori. It's time for Deep Thoughts About Jail and Ke$ha by the Water With Jenelle. About jail: "I was balling tears." About Ke$ha: "Ke$ha is my FAVORITE artist. She's just like ME, everywhere I go, always singing it in my head. Let's fucking go!" Sorry, mister lawyer. Your girl won't be coming in today. I am not sure if maybe you forgot about them from last week, but Jenelle still has those feathers in her hair -- she cannot be shackled by the law. You can physically arrest her for violating her probation, but you CANNOT stop her from "painting dollar signs on our FACES" and going to the show.
When she finally gives lawyer the pleasure of her company, he is far from happy. He is not wearing his sunglasses on a rope. His massive high school ring does not look polished. "What happened?" he demands. Jenelle is ready for this moment. She has prepared her heartfelt statement of sorrow and regret. "You know, I wanted to go to the Ke$ha concert really bad."
Lawyer says that everyone's itching to get her back in jail for 45 days, and that he agreed with her mom's decision to leave her there. "You have to prepare yourself," he says ominously.
Though Jenelle's still pissed at her mom, she heads home to see Jace. Bahhbrahh is so shocked by the events of the past week that she needs to compartmentalize. "So like, you went to Kesher, but like, the night befowhr you went to jaihl," she says. Kesher sounds kind of like Ke$ha's older Jewish sibling. I picture her keeping kosher and trading in her glitter for a lovely schmata. I bet her original title for "Your Love Is My Drug" was "Oy, Your Love Is My Drug," but the record execs felt it was too wordy.
Jenelle doesn't want to talk -- she wants to scream. She goes on a rampage, shouting about her phone and her car and her jail sentence. "You're always blaming it on me," Jenelle screams, as if her mother held the weed to her mouth and forced her to violate probation. "I'm running away," she announces. "What do you need me for?" Her shouts have upset Jace so much that he's beyond hysterical, wailing so hard that my cold, dead heart felt something strange and then broke. He's completely aware that something in his little world is very wrong, and it's simply not fair.
The day of the mediation to change the custody agreement, Kailyn's a hot mess of mixed feelings. Her powers of deduction are keen: She's decided that since Jo is ignoring her, he is likely mad at her. Still, she thinks her desires are reasonable. "The standard is for fathers to have kids every other weekend," she explains. Besides, even when Jo does have Isaac, he's just dropping him off with grandma so he can stare into Vee's boobs and think deep thoughts like: "Boobs. Boobs? Yes, boobs."
Seriously, I've got IKEA dressers that sound more intelligent than Jo, and English isn't even their native language.
She strategically asks Isaac if he'd like to spend time with her on the weekends. Since a slurred "yeeaaah" noise is all his baby mouth can make, she's very pleased with the response. She probably could have gotten the same one from Jordan, but he's busy unhinging his jaw to slurp milk from some Tupperware. I swear, that boy looks like he's sniffed one too many scented markers -- but I can't really hate on that because like, have you smelled the raspberry one? It's a freaking parfait up in there.
Considering the pending drama, she's beyond terrified to drop Isaac off with Jo. She tries to sneakily hand him off to one of the 200 or so people who live in his house and all look like older versions of him (mom included ... time has not been good to her), but when she returns to her car, he pops out of nowhere. "What are you doing it for?" he asks. She tries to keep it together but immediately bursts into tears, reminding him of the aforementioned "standard" for fathers.
Jo's reply is epic: "I'm not the standard. I raise the bar." BOOM. Expect that gem to show up in his new song: "Yo, I'm At Your Car Window. Roll It Down, Girl Featuring. Lil Isaac ."
At court, it becomes evident that Kailyn and her lawyer forgot one crucial step in gaining custody of a child: coordinating your outfits. They each look like tie-dye got hammered and violently threw up right on their shirt and dress, respectively. Jo has slipped into his best waiter chic; a crisp, white top and black bottoms.
In the end, Kailyn got what she wanted ... although it's hard to celebrate when Jo has threatened to appeal the decision. Either way, it can still be settled outside of court, which is a relief.
Back at Jo's house, we're treated to a special guest appearance by Jo's mom, who is the female version of Jo's dad. If you can get past the mole near her nose and her light mustache, then you are a good person who has not yet been convinced by society that beauty means looking remotely like a woman.
When Jo finally calls Kailyn, he's extremely composed. For all his faults -- which I so enjoy pointing out from week to week -- he really mans up when it comes to Isaac.
During the baby drop off, Kailyn shows Isaac her calendar, explaining that he'll be there ALL weekend. (I also notice that she's going to Vegas on the 15th. You go girl! What happens there literally never stays there now that Facebook exists!) When Kailyn asks Jo if he still feels the need to go to court, he gets all preachy, and says calmly, "We have to think about what's best for Isaac and stop being so selfish," without taking out his discount bin Radio Shack headphones.
This is a dude move I just don't understand. Do they prefer conversations with a soundtrack? Are their hands just so far from their heads that lifting them all the way up there seems like a lot of work?
As they all say goodbye, I feel very proud of Kailyn and Jo. I may make terrible fun of them and constantly point out how Kailyn is greasier than a combo meal at McDonald's, but they are caring, competent parents.
Now that the divorce is final, Leah has more time to talk about how she's "moving on." A big part of "moving on" is endlessly discussing that which she is attempting to move on from ... it's a good thing that friend Kayla seems to have nothing else to do besides sit and listen over a plate of something fried. (Interestingly enough, Kayla looks like Leah's bigger, more melt-y faced twin.)
With the divorce behind her, Leah's decided to focus on getting a nursing degree again, as school will likely keep her extremely busy. "This is like a new Leah," she asserts while driving with melt-y face to see the campus. "Like school, mah kids, my life, that's it." At the University of Charleston, admissions rep Bradleigh is ready to fill them in on everything, including why her mother put about 200 extra letters in her name. She talks all about the pre-reqs that Leah will need, but I cannot stop staring at Bradleigh's big eyes and Hunchback of Notre Dame posture. Perhaps when Leah becomes a nurse, she can figure Bradleigh out.
On the day of her entrance exam, Leah drops the girls off with Corey. "I do not do good with tests," she tells him. Apparently she does not do "good" with a basic command of the English language either, but we can't all excel in everything. Back at the college, she meets with Amanda, the dean of admissions/woman who is wearing a tube top dress over a full collared shirt. I am slowly realizing that there is no fashion requirement at this place of higher learning.
After 45 minutes, her ACT equivalent is graded. Unfortunately, she has not done well, but Bradleigh big eyes has better news. She's been accepted because her high school GPA was so stellar/it will be great PR for the college to continuously be featured on this show.
With school starting next week, Leah wants a brand new look. She gets the two strands of her hair that aren't extensions dyed, so now she's rocking a long blonde-on-top, brunette-on-bottom thing. If there ARE cute guys on campus, she's almost ready to mingle.
Speaking of jumping back into dating, she recently got a friend request from this kid Jeremy, and it's got her heart all a twitter. Melt-y face thinks he's cute; Leah thinks he looks "like Lance Bass," which probably isn't a good sign. "I'm not sure if I know you, do you know me?" she asks him on Facebook. "I know ur ex Corie nd kam," he replies.
Though that actually makes no sense and he spelled four out of seven words incorrectly, it's enough to earn him a coveted friend request. Oh, and spoiler alert: She ends up marrying him and is currently pregnant with his child. Hey, not reading "Teen Mom 2" news is your issue, not mine. Get your act together.
Since Chelsea's been stressed about her GED for about 16 years now, she just NEEDED to get out of the house. Luckily, friend Erika (the one with the diamond piercing drilled into her temple) is around to listen. Of course the Adam drama is also weighing on Chelsea, who can feel the end part 119 coming.
Friend Erika is like, "I have a belated gift for you, so don't be sad that the father of your child thinks you're a gross creature." The gift is tickets to see Dierks Bentley, a country star whose first name isn't a real thing! Chelsea is VERY excited. When pregnant, she used to sit and listen to his music with her "laptop on my big belly" crying over Adam and probably cooking poor Aubree with 15-60 watts of hot computer juice. Sure, she has the GED practice exam the next day, but if her dad drives them all, she can get a solid second of studying done. It will totally be enough.
Since it's going to be a late night, Chelsea drops Aubree off at her mom's house. Mom's a little nervous about the GED studying (or lack thereof), but mostly she doesn't mind because she is a cool mom. I am not sure if you noticed the feathers AND beads in her hair, but nothing says "the cool mom" like an entire arts and crafts project embedded in your head. While I was focusing on the headdress, Chelsea was babbling on about Adam.
Long story short, they are still not talking and she's giving him a little bit of space. That is girl code for "I have called [insert his name here] many, many times and now his phone is off. Now I'm just like, casually going to let him get back to me. When he has a sec."
The day of the concert is finally here, and Chelsea's amazing dad loads all her pals into his RV and dumps 'em off at the show. Needless to say, no studying gets done. At the concert, Chelsea looks happier than I've ever seen her. The attention she's getting from Dierks in a sea of 100,000 people is more than Adam's ever given her, that's for sure. I hope poor dad isn't too bored sitting in the RV, trying on the girls' clothes and testing out their makeup. I mean ... uh ... oh hell, I think we're all watching the same show here.
The next day, through tiny tired eyes, Chelsea ended up passing her tests. Unfortunately, things aren't so positive in the Adam arena. He's moved his stuff out and everything. Now, if Chelsea wants to feel close to him, she'll have to drive down to the junkyard and find some old tires to stare at lovingly. I don't put it past her, to tell you the truth. I mean, the girl enjoys country music for gosh sake. She's already way too far gone.