This was totally worth waiting in line for two days and cutting that bitch. Ain’t that right, Siri?
Even in a flashback I can still kick your a** like a boss, honey.
Shoo Bop Doo Wop. Make me pop off. Skiddle Dee Dee. Don’t go to war with me. Doo Waaaah.
Well that’s where you’re wrong, Dbag. Murder She Wrote was a classic, and you bowl like a girl.
No No No! Stop her! She’s got the new white iPhone and she knows how to use it! She’s crazy!
So maybe I gave a prison dissertation on fault based divorce retention and how it creates an acrimonious process…for a carton of cigarettes. Whassamattah?
Alrighty then.
Let’s just get this one out of the way early.
Ramona Rizzo has a brass knuckles iPhone case.
A gigantic, shiny f*** you up set of brass knuckles soldered to an iPhone that you wouldn’t be able to take on a plane.
I’m thinking the chances are pretty good that this bitch doesn’t know how to post-edit her kid’s birthday video in iMovie, but I’m willing to bet she could split your skull open with that thing after downloading the clip to her laptop.
Love her. And it just needed to be said.
Mob Wives was back this week to celebrate a couple of birthdays, break up a whacky old geezer bar fight and prep their Hurricane Sandy emergency kits. All in the same episode. Surreal much?
As a matter of fact, there was so much going on that there wasn’t any room for much actual Mob stuff, which was a little odd for a show about Mob stuff.
So this week, I give you The Real Housewives of Staten Island.
We started right out with Ramona and all ten knuckles squeezed into some crazily patterned (…jeans? leggings? jeggings?…) fancy pants as she met up with Karen and Big Ang at one of Staten Island’s seemingly endless supply of jungle print boutiques.
To cut down on trips to iParty, Ramona had decided to combine her two daughters’ birthdays into one big totally OMG LOL themed extravaganza and needed a new top for the occasion, so it was a good time to hang with the girls and catch up on some gossip.
Ramona’s daughter Melina was begging that Drita‘s daughter Aleeya be invited to the tweeny bopper par-tay, but just the thought of being in the same room again with Mama D’Avanzo had Ramona a little twisted.
As you’ll recall, the last time they got together in a social setting, one of them got a fat lip and one almost went over the balcony as Renee ran in circles screaming No No No No.
That was also the same night that Derek Tobacco (…or Marty Marlboro or whatever his game jersey name was…) had to pry Ramona off of Drita’s face with one hand while trying to prevent Karen from pulling out all of Drita’s pricey extensions with the other.
It was a roof top hot mess of double cray. And that was before Karen started throwing plates across the ballroom like they do at Greek Weddings. Opah, bitches!
Needless to say, the possibility of having to relive that moment had Ramona slightly on edge. And if she was being totally honest with herself, probably a little tingly, like Mike Tyson gets right before he bites off someone’s ear.
But for the sake of all the kids at the party, she was willing to take “Use Drita’s Mouth As A Urinal” (…yeah, she said that…) off her Bucket List and kiss and make up.
For at least one night, anyway.
So now everyone can go to the party. And I can never use the bathroom again at Uno’s without thinking I just saw Drita smiling back up at me from that little blue cake inside a pee splatter screen. No wonder her line of Just Me lipsticks are water-proof.
Mob Wives is why I now hold it until I get home.
To try and get that visual out of our heads, we then headed down to Miami to check in on Renee at the rehab clinic.
Let’s just say that if she didn’t need therapy before she got there, she’s going to need it by the time she leaves. Because that place was right out of Central Casting.
Sitting in Anger Management 101, Renee was surrounded by an assortment of characters, some of whom I swear I recognized from the old Bob Newhart Show.
None of them seemed very impressed by Renee’s attitude, or her mouth. Especially one blonde woman who appeared to be wearing her bathing suit top under her maxi dress. Maybe they get pool time in-between sessions or something, I don’t know. But this chick don’t play.
Blonde Woman was not a big fan of anyone with a petty, gossipy 16 year old mentality and Renee did not appreciate the subtlety of that jab. And then Blonde Woman didn’t appreciate Renee’s (bleepin’) drama. And then Renee accused Blonde Woman of talking about her off camera, and that she shouldn’t put her in her mouth if she doesn’t know her.
I know, right? What does that even mean?
Ten minutes into this week’s episode and we’d already had two rather orally fixated references? Gross.
Honestly, by the first commercial break I was so confused as to what someone can, and cannot do, in someone else’s mouth that for the time being I’m just gonna stick to shoving birthday cake in there, thank you very much.
And speaking of. With the party looming on the horizon, Ramona had to finally suck it up and call Drita to invite her kid. Because the more kids…the more presents. Der.
I know it’s only an ADT home security camera monitor that’s plugged into Drita’s kitchen counter, but I always pretend it’s one of those high tech spy screens at a hospital nurses’ station or Level 4 nuclear plant. It’s just a little game I play, and it makes the boring scenes seem more exciting.
They both agreed to meet up at a restaurant and hash out any issues that hadn’t already been covered at the last Reunion Special and then we scooted off to Karen’s latest business venture.
During a meeting with a financial planner a few weeks ago, Karen had been given the suggestion to diversify her investments and start shopping at Marshall’s if she ever wanted to save any money. And since the latter ain’t never gonna happen, Karen had decided to buy into a studio run by Producer Storm and his boyeeez.
Please, Lawd. Not another Tardy for the Party moment. I just can’t.
You know you thought it.
Luckily, Karen is capable of breaking every bone in your body but doesn’t have a single musical one in her own, so this was purely for daughter Karina (…who could suddenly sing. Who knew?…) and their Get Out Of Arizona bank account.
It was the usual VH1 (…or is it VH+1 now?…) white girl in a hip hop world hilarity. If you squinted it kind of looked like when Mariah Carey went through that phase and was always awkwardly hanging with her homies.
What’s that for? What does that do? Why’s he looking at my big booty like that? Why yes, I am single. Send me the papers.
And then Karen put her baseball cap on sideways, made a Bboy sign with her fingers and left with two phone numbers. Oh…and a new investment. Almost forgot what she came for.
Down the street, Ramona, her knuckles and Drita all met up to clear the air in a fairly non-eventful event. There really wasn’t much Mob in Mob Wives this week.
They agreed that they had both fallen victim over the years to all the gossip (…”I heard in all five Burroughs that she said you said…”…) even though not one word of smack had ever actually been heard coming directly from each other’s mouths. And since neither of them could really afford another hike in their insurance premiums, they also agreed to play nice for the sake of the children when they got to the birthday party.
But most importantly, they agreed to never come back to that restaurant ever again, because NOBODY looks good in that kind of harsh, straight above your head Target store lighting. It was nasty.
Right about here was when someone must have realized that they forgotten to put Carla in the show again this week, because she suddenly popped up out of nowhere.
She and Drita went to the gym to relive the truce with Ramona. Carla goes to the gym a lot, but I can’t remember if we’ve ever seen her actually use the equipment. Luckily, the joint is always empty, because I know my gym has a sign posted that says you can’t just park your junk on a bench and gossip for an hour.
And pick up your towels. Yo’ Momma don’t live here.
Then Carla was back home finding out that her soon-to-be ex Joe had met with his attorney at IHOP the other day, and she didn’t take it very well.
I wasn’t really sure if she completely grasped the concept of divorce and all the legal mumbo jumbo that comes along with the paperwork, because she got a little cranky.
And Joe was using some pretty big words.
Not gonna lie. I was pretty impressed that a dude could spend all those years in the slammer and come out on the other side already owning a 3 story house, a black mercedes and talking all fancy.
He may have (…allegedly…) dropped a few bars of unscented Ivory over the years, but he appears to have kept a good grip on those prison library finance books. I’m thinking he’s a whole lot smarter than we originally gave him credit for when he got sprung.
I’m starting to like this dude.
Meanwhile, down at the Drunken Monkey, it was just getting weird.
Big Ang had forced herself out of bed before 2pm so she could check up on the bar’s day staff. Seems that there had been some issues with the workers and the customers, and Ang wanted to slap some sense into everybody like that Vanderpump lady does over at her Bravo TV restaurant.
Whoa. Wait. Now that you mention it…
Lisa Vanderpump has Giggy and Big Ang has Little Louie. They’re both in the hospitality business. They’re both into spending their husband’s money like it grows on trees. They both run bars. And yet we never see the two women together at the same time. Ever.
Do you think…? Could…? Could it be like Superman? Are Lisa and Big Ang the same person?
I’ll need to look into this a little more before I alert TMZ, but whoever it was with the substantial breasts behind the bar this week, they were not having any of this drama going down in their establishment. No, ma’am.
Especially when the whole situation was just f***ed up.
Turns out that there were two feuding old man gangs at either end of the bar. Like the old men who bowl and the old men who always sit at the exact same table at McDonald’s every morning no matter what, drinking their medium coffee and reading a real newspaper instead of a Kindle.
It was was a little hard to figure out who was who since one of them was wearing a Drunken Monkey tee shirt, because they sell them there, so I don’t know if he was a drunk employee or just representing the brand.
It was like the McDonald’s guys were on one end, and the Kiwanis Bowling League guys were on the other end, and it was about to go down extra early, so they could get all home before it got dark.
I can’t even explain it. But they started old man fighting until Big Ang’s husband Neil came rushing in to break it up before someone broke a hip.
After you’ve seen Drita take a chunk out of Ramona’s face, watching one guy try to pull off another guy’s Life Alert necklace seemed pretty tame. Neil didn’t have to work very hard to break this one up.
Then it was time for the Grand Opening of the Staten Island Apple Store!
Or maybe it was just the party for Ramona’s kids. I’m not sure.
It was hard to tell, because there were roped off barricades in the front of the building and inside there were iPhone cupcakes and iPhone birthday cakes and people taking photos with iPhones and so much Apple Store stuff that I thought I finally solved the mystery of what happened to that truck full of iPads that got hijacked on the Long Island Expressway.
Even Love Majewski showed up on the red bathmat carpet, because no little girl’s birthday party would be complete without a woman who shot at the ex-lover who froze his baby batter and then divvied it up between two other mystery women, right?
Like I said…surreal.
To keep things moving in a similarly odd direction, after the party we headed back to Storm’s studio (…the producer, not the one from the X-Men who could make it rain all up in here if she wanted to…) so Karina and her all-girl band could demo their new single.
Think Karina & The Mobettes on Radio Disney. All being coached by the older brother of that Gangnam Style guy.
And then as if that wasn’t enough, Ramona paid a visit to her lawyer to find out what the dealio was with her jewelry and that whole boyfriend getting arrested thing. Honestly, there was more going on with his outfit than there was with this entire scene, so we can skip right over it and try to un-see his pin striped suit, white collared shirt and paisley striped tie.
Except we did find out that Ramona had been secretly engaged all this time.
And then Hurricane Sandy blew into town, making a Reality Show seem almost…real.
Zone A evacuated and it was over.
To be continued…
