And by that, I mean these bitches are Goombalacraycray.
I can crack a safe and a jaw before the first round of drinks even get here. Badabingola.
Trust me. The strip club paycheck ain’t the only thing this size that Mommy’s bringing home tonight, honey.
Sing along, girls. Tequila makes her clothes, and boxing gloves, fall off.
And by that, I mean more Goombooty cushion for the Mobista pushin’. Go Bears!
My kind of town, Chicago is…
My kind of town, Chicago is…
My kind of razzmatazz
Where all the Wives go total spaz.
And suddenly with absolutely no warning, and apparently no apologies whatsoever to the estate of Frank Sinatra or anyone else out there who had set their DVR for the wrong date…someone gave us Mob Wives: Chicago.
A week early.
There was barely time to freshen up our cocktails after the Staten Island contingent wrapped their Reunion Show before this cloned spin-off bitch slapped everyone in the face.
After promoting the premiere of the Chicago edition with only a random start date and one looped clip of the Wives strutting out of that warehouse looking like elderly Pussycat Dolls, complete with back lighting and wind machine of course, it was a bit of a surprise to see it land on our TV sets a little early.
But VH1 ain’t no fool. They knew we’d all be basking in a Staten Island after glow, and they wanted to swap out the Wives while we were all still a little light headed. They probably hoped we wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. Well played, VH1.
Just like the Mob, they suck you back in again.
I’ll make it easier on myself, and everyone involved right from the start. Since this was our introduction to the new windblown women, we got a lot of backstory. And a lot of “alleged” this and that.
So everything that follows is alleged. How’s that? That should keep the legal people out of my email, and the Mob people out of my house. Just insert “alleged” whenever you feel uncomfortable and we’ll all live to see the Holidays.
Renee Fecarotta Russo was the first Wife to hit the screen. As she drove around Chicago in her big Titanic hat and Paris Hilton sunglasses, we learned that she was the niece of “Big John” Fecarotta, an alleged enforcer for the Mob.
(The first “alleged” was a gimme…you’re on your own from now on unless I spook myself or hear people outside my front door.)
Big John was gunned down by a Mob friend who set him up, which explained Renee’s distaste for Snitches and Rats. The irony of her having the same name and similar rat story as Staten Island’s Renee Graziano didn’t go unnoticed by this eagle eye.
But this Renee is the blond one, which made it easier to differentiate which rat was which since they both were done wrong by men in their lives. This one had two daughters from two baby daddies, both of whom are currently in jail.
The daddies, not the girls. It’s called Mob Wives…not Mob Moms. Der.
Renee lives by the Code. Don’t associate with rats. Don’t be friends with rats. And most importantly, never let them cook your food.
Mob Rats, that is. Ratatouille Rats are ok, and are actually very good chefs.
Shout out to Pixar. Buy it in 3D.
Next up was Nora Schweihs. Besides being labeled the neighborhood Krazy right out of the gate, Nora was also a hot mess mix of Bravo’s Bethany Frankel and one of the blond comediennes from Saturday Night Live whose name escapes me at this moment. Since I’m too lazy to Google it right now, we can make it a game and see who comes up with her name first.
Nora is just back in Chi Town after living anonymously in Florida for 10 years. She packed up all her whackadoodleness into a steamer trunk and came back home to deal with some loose ends.
And by loose ends, I mean her Dad’s missing body that is lying around Chicago somewhere.
Frank “The German” Schweihs was allegedly (…I’m sticking that one in because he’s dead and he still scares me somehow…) one of the most notorious hit men for the Mob, and has been linked to the death of Marilyn Monroe. The dealio is that as soon as Frank died, the Feds swooped in and took the body somewhere and Nora has never been able to give her Dad a proper burial.
Nora needs closure, and has created such a conspiracy theory on her Dad’s mysterious remains that I’m starting to believe he could be on ice in Roswell with all those UFO aliens.
That’s German for crazy. That’s right. You just learned something.
The more you know. Stay in school, kids.
Since NeNe Leakes is rich now, bitch, there is a noticeable shortage of exotic dancers on my reality shows. Luckily Pia Rizza is more than happy to preserve the art form, all in the name of good parenting and keeping the lights on.
Pia not only slides down the poles for all the boys, but she is also blessed with a mouth like all the boys and could easily put a blush on any trucker’s cheeks. She was born with no verbal filter and a seemingly endless mental dictionary of dirty sailor catch phrases.
The only thing she won’t talk about is her crooked cop father Vincent Rizza.
Do. Not. Ask.
After working for the Mob, Vincent flipped and testified against them and then vanished into the Witness Protection Program, leaving Pia to slide down poles and live with the shame of having a rat for a father. They haven’t seen each other since, and she could care less.
Rest assured, though. Wherever Dad is now, I’m pretty certain he can still hear her mouth, so it’s almost like they’re together.
Speaking of together. Now that everyone is all back in Chicago, Nora wanted to get all the girls together for a night out, since we all know how well that always goes down.
Nicole Sullivan! That’s who Nora kind of reminds me of, along with Bethany. And it was MADtv, not Saturday Night Live, so I hope you didn’t put too much effort into running down a list of every woman who has ever appeared on SNL. Nicole is the new Jenny Craig girl, too…that must be why she was fresh on my mind.
I swear. If you put Bethany and Nicole in a blender and spiced it with Tweety Bird’s Looney Tunes grandma…Bam! Nora. Sorry to interrupt the flow, but it had to be said.
Since all Mob Wives, regardless of locale, need to have some parenting issues and smack talk time, we got our first glimpse into Renee’s world.
Renee’s 20 year old daughter Giana had just gone to visit her incarcerated Dad, who is spending his entire life in prison. Brutally murdering someone seems to have that kind of result in the judicial system.
Mom obviously wanted Giana to have nothing to do with her father, but since none of us should be expected to invest 100% of our heart felt compassion on two people we just met 25 minutes ago, it was pretty much just filler this time around. Maybe once we get to know everyone better I’ll care more about the kid.
Side note: Are Newport cigarettes now the official sponsor for everything Mob related?
Seriously. Giana walked out onto the balcony clutching the same carton of smokes that were always sticking out of Renee Graziano’s face. What are the chances? Just saying.
The blonde Renee then headed out to nosh on some deep dish with crazy Nora, who really wanted to get the ball rolling on Girls’ Night Out. Not only was it a great chance to shovel down some carbs, but it gave Renee a chance to smack talk about Pia’s chosen career, and wonder out loud why she didn’t just close her legs and go work at Kohl’s.
Across town, the ringing in Pia’s ears wasn’t just Renee talking s*** about her…it was her cell phone.
Pia’s cousin Anthony hit her up on her Sidekick to not only give her some dirt on Nora, but prove that you can’t have a Mob show without at least one Tony or Joey.
Turned out that he had run into Nora out at the Klub, and she was all up in his shizzle about Pia. Blah Blah Whore Blah Blah.
Oh snap. No she did not. That girl can’t hold her liquor.
Pia made a mental note and then went to do whatever pole dancers do when they’re not pole dancing.
Then we paused for some things that make you go hmmm.
Christina Scoleri barreled onto the screen with her raspy Walmart voice and fist pumping attitude, proudly displaying her Hit First, Ask Questions Later bumper sticker for all to see. Honk if you love knuckle sandwiches.
The daughter of Raymond Janek, who was pretty small beans in the Mob skillet scheme of things, Christina probably even smelled like a TomBoy if my TV had smell-o-vision.
While most kids were cutting their Barbie’s hair, Christina was learning how to audibly crack a safe like they do in the movies and could probably still break into Citibank with just her ears and a knitting needle.
Though she had recently just gotten divorced, her ex-husband was still beached on the couch, which must make for some great date nights. He has not moved out yet, and Christina’s 9 year old daughter is blindly going through each day thinking that everything is great with Mommy and Daddy. Considering that it has been almost one full year and the guy hasn’t packed one box, it doesn’t look like he is going anywhere soon.
Besides a Joey or a Tony, every Mob show should also come with a Big Ang. But since there is only one of those voluptuous delicacies out there in the Free World, the next best thing would have to be Big Attitude.
I give you Leah Desimone, daughter of Wolf Desimone, and apparent Love Child of Jennifer Lopez and Broadway’s Bernadette Peters.
For realz. You can’t make this stuff up.
Big and loud and proud, Leah came right from Central Casting’s Little Italy branch and has the Goombazongas to prove it.
Every other sentence she paused to give us the Italian definition of what she was talking about. See the dog? It’s Goombadabeagle. That pack of gum? Goombabazookajoe.
Granted I had to turn down the volume on my set, but I loved her like I’d known her for Goombalike4ever. With hand motions and finger waving included free of charge.
She’s a mess. Love. Her.
The only thing bigger than her personality are the butts of the boys she dates. Leah wants some big and chunky trouble, so find dat juicy double. Baby like back.
Unfortunately, Leah had to take a trip in search of unchartered fat a** so she couldn’t attend Nora’s night out, which was just as well with that big head of hair. She wouldn’t stand a chance in the first Chick Fight Night of the season.
The other four Wives hit the club and seemed to be ok for the first few rounds of shots.
Until Christina raised her liquored up Bingo voice and started in on Nora’s hit man father.
Somehow that veered off course into a comparison of hooker shoes and cousin Tony’s gossipy phone call. Nora wanted a wire tapped recording complete with transcripts before she would even have a discussion about Anthony, so she and Pia decided to put the gossip aside and make up even though it was pretty much a non-fight from the beginning.
Christina wasn’t buying the quick resolution, and then…
Well. Then the whole thing went all Mob Wives.
Pia and Christina got all up in each other’s grill, with crazy Nora stuck in the middle like filling in an Italian Oreo.
After wailing and threatening to cut somebody, Christina threw a drink…and you know what happens when you get a Mob Wife wet.
Everything went GoomBOOM!!
Yes. Chicago is definitely my kind of town.