On Display. On Display. I can’t sing. Dat’s what they say.
My ears! My mouth! They’re both bleeding blk.
Because “Dirty Jersey Water” didn’t fit on the bottle, that’s why.
Now I’d have to Google it to be certain, but I believe that it’s already been statistically proven somewhere that New Jersey holds the per capita record for both Italian Pizzerias and Fancy Hat Shoppes, because I have never seen more slimy pepperoni and stylish head gear than I do each week on The Real Housewives of New Jersey.
From the dueling Joes and their wives, all the way down to backwards baseball cap wearing whacky gay sidekick Greg and that little Baby Gorga niblet who is always upside down on the floor…everyone is sporting a lid nowadays.
Don’t say I didn’t give you a heads up on the latest fashion trend when it hits and you’re not prepared.
A crisp fedora or trendy knit beanie might cover up that thinning spot the Joes are always trying to hide, but it couldn’t distract our eyes from this week’s Jersey drama.
Not even close.
We got to pick up where we left off last time, in beautiful Punta Cana right after Teresa and Kathy had their screaming match over who is the worst parent. Teresa has always been blessed with an exceptionally low forehead hairline, and the ability to turn anyone’s words completely inside out and Mad Lib them into a slur against her mothering skills. Neither of which were very pretty in the setting Dominican sunset.
Storming off towards the bathroom like you do after a fight in junior high study hall, Teresa and Jabba Joe G gave the rest of the crew plenty of time to do their 3rd quarter analyzing and figure out who was a bigger Dbag. Richie took the high road, as well as his stylin’ pair of eyeglasses, and went in search of Joe in stall #2 to check on things.
A greasy Joe on the beach is scary. Joe slobbering out of bed is even scarier. Joe on the toilet? Please no, Richie. Just no. Maybe it was my anxiety, or maybe it was real I don’t know, but somehow my television suddenly gave me the ability to see Joe sitting on the toilet right through the wooden walls. Maybe it was just my imagination, or the fear of what could have been, but I swear I saw him in there with a wet cigar and Road & Track magazine. It’s the kind of visual they could use to make prisoners talk.
Luckily we were spared. Bravo only forced us to see his wet face and the wrinkled pirate shirt that he switched into for dinner. That was close.
Teresa either ducked into the bathroom as well, or more likely a phone booth, because she came back out looking like a bad B Movie Super Heroine in a gold lamé bathing suit, complete with some kind of flowing cover up number that appeared to come with its own wind machine to keep it in constant motion. She should probably melt that thing down and pay off another lawyer. Just saying.
The staff set up a massive Burning Man bonfire for effect while they slopped out an authentic Dominican meal. Kathy’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to figure out if she could realistically shove Teresa into the fire and make it look like an accident, while everyone else wondered why the camera crew was getting a better dinner over a the Craft Services table. No fair.
After dinner everyone started pounding the drinks to wash down the after taste of the Dominican porridge. Bro Joe Gorga and his one track mind got all 6th grade on Jabba Joe and wanted to compare junk to prove who was the..ahem…bigger man. Sorry dude, but the only person who wants to see any of that is whacky sidekick Greg, who almost needed his inhaler but it was back in the room. Luckily we were spared having to see Jabba Joe’s nibblies twice in one night.
The next morning all the boys go golfing, and all the girls go to the outdoor market so Teresa can research Dominican headless chickens or some sort of Teresa nonsense for her next cookbook. Being the last kid picked for Dominican dodgeball, Greg ends up with the girls. Faaaabulous.
Memo for next time: Gucci shoes and designer outfits kinda sorta make you stand out in a crowd while you’re poking around decapitated cow heads. Between the blood, goat fat and cobblestone walkways, these nut job Housewives were asking for a broken leg. How we didn’t end up at war with Punta Cana after they taped this trip I’ll never know. I’m pretty sure that all those little local kids in the back of the scene requested that Bravo blur out their faces. They wanted no part of this freak show, thank you very much.
Classic Teresa moment #8936: Asking some poor outdoor market guy who slits chicken throats for a living if he has ever heard of her cookbook. The chicken was the lucky one at that booth.
They all get back together for one last dinner where they play party games and crown one of the Housewives as Punta Princess 2011, as well as find out that nobody knows who the Vice President is. There you have it. The future of our country. You can’t make this up.
After probably being asked by the Dominican Ambassador to leave on the next flight, everyone packs up and hops the Bravo shuttle home, just in time for the show to morph into 30 minutes of shameless self promotion. The remainder of the episode officially became the longest commercial in the history of Bravo TV as they forced as to drink down that new blk. Black Water while listening to Melissa premiere her new dance single.
That’s right. It was the highly anticipated (in the Manzo family I assume…) launch of blk. with entertainment by Joe Gorga’s potential money making machine Melissa!
Manzo Son#1 and Manzo Son#2 were launching their new line of Black Water. Yum. Not to get all scientific on you, but the water is infused with Fulvic Acid, which is a subclass of Humic Acids that arise from decomposing organic materials. The acid is naturally black, and binds with the water and turns it into what looks like flat diet Coke. Decomposing. Black. Acid.
Who wants a glass? Knowledge is power, kids.
Spoiled brat Ashley made a return appearance at the event, either due to the fine print in her Bravo contract or her hopes of getting in a little underage drinking. Regardless, she was there, and sitting on the couch was the extent of her participation. Sign me up for that job.
After having built a dope basement recording studio in one night and hiring up a posse of homeboys to help lay down some tracks in the hizzle, it’s time for Melissa to put up or shut up. Since going to Punta Cana was more important than practicing her dance and learning all three lines of the song, she is stressing out. Melissa does her weekly thank you to the Baby Jesus, who is apparently responsible for everything from Holiday parties, designer shoes and glitter tube tops to the AutoTune machine used on her vocals, and hits the stage.
To distract everyone at the launch from realizing they were drinking black water, those crazy Manzo boys got everyone liquored up and then gave them a head buzz with Melissa’s light show. While she busts out her best Britney moves, which unfortunately were the ones that Britney was using before she started cleaning up her act, hubby Joe leers at her knowing that he is totally getting some tonight. Teresa doesn’t like it when anyone steals the spotlight, so she just chewed the inside of her lip until the synthesizer stopped thumping. Everyone else put on their best poker face and pretended it was the best song they’ve ever heard.
Over at the Real Housewives of Atlanta I’m pretty sure Kim Zolciak was breathing a sigh of relief that she still holds the Bravo record for biggest boobs and best Gay Pride Parade Anthem for another season. You’re safe for now, sister.
After Britney/Melissa took off her boogie shoes, Teresa fakes a hug and then pulls Kathy aside to smooth things over. Out of nowhere, Kathy’s crazy sister Rosie makes her long awaited costumed cameo return this week as she shows up in the crowd wearing some kind of pirate number, perhaps as one last salute to Punta Cana. She’s apparently not a big Teresa fan, because she unleashed some major eye glare as she watched Kathy proclaim that she loved Teresa like a sister. Oh no, she did not just use the S Word in front of Rosie. You do not want to get on a pirate’s bad side.
And it’s all building up to next time when they unleash one last bunch of crazy on the season finale. Already? Didn’t this just start? Or was that the other show?
I forget. But regardless, don’t be tardy for the party.
Oh wait…that’s not this one either. Man, there’s a lot of Housewives.
