Nope, sorry. It wasn’t the same thing. It was only for 3 months. You’re not a whore unless you do it for 4 months.
Seriously?
Nora’s not such a Goombaloompa when you can’t see or hear her. I should buy one of these in every color.
I swear if my hair hadn’t looked so Goombalicious I would’ve slapped that bitch like a birthday piñata.
For the last freakin’ time, Nora. It wasn’t a Yo Gabba Gabba music video. You really were a stripper at a strip club!
It’s one thing to try and embrace your Inner Child.
It’s another to want to take that Child by the throat and strangle it before the rental clown even makes any balloon animals.
This week Mob Wives: Chicago gave us a child’s eye view on life in the Windy City, as we learned a little bit more about what it’s like growing up in The Lifestyle.
Being a child of the Mob has to be difficult. You go from crib guards, to school crossing guards to those guards who tell you to sit there and don’t move while they go get your father out of his cell. It can’t be easy.
Our favorite ladies all had a story to tell that was somehow touched by children this time around.
Children and Parents. Children and visiting hours. Children and divorce. Children and poorly attended parties with way too much leftover uncut birthday cake.
Some stories tugged at your heart strings while others…well…you know.
Fresh off her Don’t You Point Your Finger At Me throw down with Renee, Nora was back at home licking her wounds and putting eyedrops in those enormously wide crazy orbs of hers when Pia showed up at the door.
Right away I wanted to know what was in that massive CVS bag that Pia lugged into the apartment. She has to have one of those cards that gives you back CVS Bucks when you buy stuff, because that bag was packed full of pharmaceutical goodness.
But no such luck. Guess I’ll have to drop by Pia’s some day while she’s downtown…ahem…”working” and go through her medicine cabinet, because she didn’t show off any money-back ointment purchases this time around.
Nora loves to obsess. There is no doubt about it.
Whether it’s the endless conspiracy theories revolving around the location of her Na-ahh No He’s Not A Hoodlum Dad Frank “The German” Schweihs and his possibly MIA body, to her ongoing battles with Renee, Nora can’t seem to let go of anything long enough to even wash her hands.
Right away she relived the smack down with Renee, complete with a full on charades game demonstrating how the whole finger pointing thing went down.
Now it’s well documented that Pia is not a big Renee Fan, due largely in part to Renee’s Holier Than Thou attitude when it comes to getting dollar bills stuck anywhere near your cooch. So I’m not really sure whey Nora continues to ramble on and on every chance she gets ahold of Pia’s left ear. But she does.
This time you could sense that it was starting to get under her skin a little more than usual, and Pia had to lay down the law before her fist found its way down Nora’s throat.
She don’t like that bitch Renee. And she doesn’t wanna talk about that bitch. And Nora needs to let it go because it is starting to effect their own friendship.
Next up was my Goombalicious TV Girlfriend Leah.
(No, I haven’t gotten up the nerve to actually mention it to her yet, but thanks for bringing it up.)
Leah, her massive electro-shock therapy hair and too tight tank top, were all going to lunch with Mom Jacquie.
On a sad note, Jacquie had just been diagnosed with Cancer, and all of America pretty much gave her one big Twitter hug that slowed down my internet for a few minutes.
On a happier note, Jacquie looked exactly like someone who could be on TV playing the next Ultimate sitcom Mom, and that made me smile. I could also totally picture her on Golden Girls playing Sophia‘s normal cousin or something.
She had pretty fly glasses for an older woman, too. Diggin’ the specs, Jacko.
After getting all Mom on Leah and demanding that she pull her top up a little to prevent those two Goombagrenades from falling out onto the salad plate, Jacquie went on to give a rather inspiring mini-speech on Cancer survival that made my Xfinity modem stop blinking again.
Mom made Leah cry, which required Leah to bust out one of those soap opera-style straight into your eye socket folded origami napkin blots that everyone always does in restaurants when they get bad news. I don’t know how they do it without getting a paper cut straight across their retina, but everyone always does it and nobody ever bleeds out, so I guess it’s safer than it looks.
Maybe I’ll try it one day at Burger King. I tend to get emotional in there anyway, ever since they raised their prices and got rid of The King.
Everyone’s pulling for you, Jacquie. You go, girl.
Then for a brief moment, I thought I might have rolled over onto my DVR remote when I was reaching for a snack, and accidentally pulled up an old Project Runway episode.
My bad. It was just Christina and Renee in one of those massive fabric supply houses where the designers always went to spend their $100.
Who knew? Back before marriage and a top secret divorce and all that Mob nonsense got in the way, Christina used to dabble in Fashion Design. Which is kind of fitting if you really analyze it, since Mob snitches and Dress designers really do all follow the same mantra.
One day you’re in. One day you’re out.
And be careful or you’ll get cut.
See? It all makes sense now. Six Degrees, as they say.
Christina was going to be whipping up a gown for Renee in an effort to get her crafting mojo back, so they needed to pick up some fluorescent stretchy fabric and dish about Nora.
As Tim Gunn ran behind them shouting “Designers! Ten more minutes!” Christina and Renee relived the same event that Pia and Nora had just relived. I’m pretty sure that I’m clear on all the details by now.
Gotta admit that every time Renne exclaimed “…pull my finger…” I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, come on. Does she ever listen to herself?
Then we were back to Nora and Pia, who I swear are trying to mate their dogs, because it was Puppy Play Day again. Since Puppy Bath Day went so well awhile back…they figured why not, right?
Except for the dog smell, I would swear we were all watching the same scene again from earlier in the show as Nora went into yet another Renee Rage.
This time Pia blew a full on Nutty, and tried to shut the whole thing down.
Pia also called Nora out on that whole 40 year friendship with Renee song that she always sings. It hasn’t been 40 years. So learn how to do math, and knock it off before someone does a real 40 years for manslaughter.
Somewhere between picking the fabric and cutting the pattern, Christina ran into some issues with her daughter.
After thinking that she could actually keep something like a divorce and a live-in ex-husband a secret until college graduation, Christina was confronted after her daughter had gotten the full scoop from a neighbor’s kid.
Der. Facebook much, Christina?
That whole circus sent Christina back to her therapist, who apparently had paid good tuition money to be able to ask questions like “What’s making you sad right now?”
Seriously? Sign me up for Harvard.
I’m not even going to address this issue, or why the therapist only shops at Liz Clairborne. Moving on.
Throughout the episode we also had numerous developments in the ongoing drama known as the Renee/Giana/Baby Prison Daddy triangle. I’ll just hit the good parts.
Giana really loves her father, despite the fact that he is in prison for murder. And I quote: He’s the funniest, most caring, most thoughtful man she knows.
No. Not even with a ten foot pole will I touch that one.
Renee met Giana for lunch on Ash Wednesday, proving that neither priests nor MAC cosmeticians have a clue on how to blend a smokey eye. Between the smudge on Renee’s forehead, her hat hair and the sloppy job someone did on her purple lids, she just needed to go home, shower off and start over. For some reason Renee now wanted to accompany Giana to jail the next time she goes to visit Dad.
Trust me, no inmates are going to give her any hassles if she shows up looking like she did on Ash Wednesday. Girlfriend could walk in naked carrying a cake with a file in it and nobody would budge off their bunks.
Giana also met up with her best friend Marco after talking to her Dad on the phone.
The only two important points here being that one, Giana needs to get a case for that iPhone 4 before she cracks the glass.
And two, Marco is totally the kind of guy whose cheeks and ears get really pink when he’s flustered.
Then it was Party Time! And Party Bus Time!
Nora had invited everyone in Chicago, except Renee to prove a point, to a mystery birthday party that she was throwing for herself.
After luring the Wives onto one of those big limo buses that bad girls always lose their virginity in during Sorority Rush Week, they headed off to who knows where to celebrate the day that Nora was unleashed on Planet Earth.
Basically, what I got from this scene was that the Real Housewives franchise can afford to shoot their girls all around the world every season to bitch and sit on camels, while the Mob franchise is still too new and can only afford an expensed trip to a Go-Cart joint.
Because if memory serves me, isn’t that where the Original Recipe Renee (Graziano) took her mopey kid for some Staten Island bonding? And sure enough, the Chicago Party Bus pulled right up to the bumper as well.
After trying to pry open a window and throw herself out into traffic as Nora rambled on and on about the joys of self pleasure during the ride across town, my girl Leah almost melted down when they finally arrived at their own Go-Cart destination.
You didn’t need a degree to figure out that all Leah’s Lion King hair, in combination with all that glorious junk in the trunk, was going to have a difficult time fitting into any of the racer gear in the locker room.
Two gallons in a one gallon onesie. But she made it work, and ended up looking like a cross between someone you’d shoot out of a cannon and an Italian Power Ranger.
Pia couldn’t participate because the jello in her new boobs hadn’t completely congealed yet, and good luck zipping those things up into the suits. But they all had fun.
After putt-putting around the tracks at .5 miles an hour, everyone kicked back with a cocktail and heard about one of Nora’s childhood birthday parties when only one little girl showed up and they both sat around crying until all the candles burned down into the frosting like the end of a sad movie.
Having an alleged Mob Dad in the family tends to cut down on the RSVPs I would imagine.
That story could also explain why if you slit Nora open like a Star Wars Tauntaun you would probably find a lonely 9 year old girl still trapped inside all that spazzy goo.
And finally, to burn off some of that cake, Nora and Pia hit the gym the next day.
In what was most certainly the wimpiest workout ever in the history of wimpy workouts, after about 7 leg presses without a pin in the weight stack, the whole thing just turned into one big bitch fest.
Nora started in on the whole Renee thing again, and then Pia started in on the whole Renee thing again.
Then Pia questioned why Renee always looks down her nose at Pia for stripping, but doesn’t look down her nose at others who did the same thing.
Huh? What does that even mean?
Wait for it.
Boom goes the dynamite, and the secret came out.
Nora used to strip at the same club! Shut. Up.
No. You shut up.
Except Nora only did it for 3 months, and in NoraMath that doesn’t count as being a big bag of Ho like Pia.
Then there was a ton of screaming and (bleeping) and accusations of being a whore and spending 5 hours in the private booth showing off way more than just your new boobs to anyone with an Amex card.
Yeah. Nora went there, accusing Pia of taking her stripping to the next level. The horizontal level, if you know what I mean.
The rest of the argument was all (bleeped) out, so it must have been good. I should ask all the poor people who live and work in the hallway where they were screeching what really went down before Nora dove into an elevator and disappeared.
Looks like somebody is really going down next time.
But until then…me love you long time.
