Oh, yeah…now that’s what I’m talking about. That’s the good stuff. Mama likes.
Bleep Bleep Bleep Bleep NORA Bleep Bleep Bleep Bleep!
Seriously? Not one of you Goombaloon bitches even noticed my new soft curls? I look a-ma-zing.
Bleep Bleep Bleep Bleep NORA Bleep Bleep Bleep Bleep!
Oh, this is totally going on Facebook. Lift up your shirt.
So it looks like I might be a day late on this one.
Unfortunately, it’s not because of anything as exciting as rambling, illiterate Facebook hate mail (…seriously, does anyone use spellcheck anymore?…) or spam from the poor few out there born without funny bones who still haven’t figured out that this whole site is my humorous way of actually showing support for all these shows.
It’s not Rocket Science, people. It’s Reality TV.
Yes. Granted, they are quite similar and I can understand your confusion, but there’s still a slight difference between the two educational genres. Figure it out or stop Googling yourself.
But I digress.
As it turns out, I had decided to play a new drinking game during this week’s chaotic post-beatdown Mob Wives: Chicago and take a shot every time Renee swore on screen after punching Nora.
Needless to say, I was passed out within the first 3 minutes.
The next thing I remember was waking up on my couch to VH1′s Best of the ’90s and some left over Cheetos on my face.
Man, that Renee could give a longshoreman a case of nervous pee. And she proved it over and over…and over…again this week as the Wives all tried to decompress after the blow up and throw down that took place last week at Christina‘s party.
For those of you with some short term memory issues, we’ll hit the basics again.
Nora had called Pia a whore for stripping and (…allegedly…) doing the nasty up in those private booths that I can’t afford, which immediately resulted in Pia offering up a full frontal palm slap right into Nora’s dizzy forehead.
Upon impact, Nora went off like a cat when you throw it in the bathtub, unleashing her SchweihsSpaz (…say that three times fast, I dare you…) in every direction at once. It was like on the Saturday morning cartoons when that zippy mouse is suddenly in every corner of your television screen, except this mouse had booze on its breath and a couple of angry chicks tugging on mousey extensions.
Areeba Areeba Undalay Undalay!
At some point earlier in the evening, Renee and Pia had also apparently devised a secret code known only amongst themselves which resulted in a perfectly timed tag team attack on Nora before anyone knew what hit, and Nora didn’t stand a chance when they both jumped on her head.
Somehow in all the excitement, Renee even ended up crawling on all fours in her designer dress trying to egg on Nora into some Chicago style junkyard dawg wrestling.
And then Nora said it.
Yeah, she did. And now you’re up to speed.
If you need to leave now, the moral of the story is: Never say “You’re father molested you everyday” no matter how angry you get. Just don’t, if you know what’s good for you.
Unless you want a whole lot of Renee all up in your face, that is. Then go for it.
Because when Nora blurted out that gem, Renee went from all fours to full on mid-air Matrix so fast I thought she was rigged with off-Broadway Peter Pan cables or something.
After those two big dudes, who I swear materialize in on Star Trek transporter beams just in the nick of time each week, broke up all the girls, Christina went scooting after Nora while Renee and Pia licked their own wounds.
Right around now is when I must have passed out, because the last thing I remember was Nora declaring that Pia must have gonorrhea. Say whaa–? Who says that?
That one kind of came out of nowhere, and I’m thinking that it must have been the first thing that Nora could think of that rhymed with the word Pia, because who even talks about that disease anymore? Is it even still around? There are way cooler things that strippers can get nowadays, right? Allegedly, I mean.
In the opposite corner of the Ring, Pia and Renee were doing some serious Nora bashing and for a second I thought that the guy in charge of the Bleep Machine had accidentally put his water bottle down on the button, because it was basically two minutes of solid bleeped out potty mouth.
Honesty, if I had been away from my TV getting snacks and heard all that I would have assumed it was the Emergency Broadcast System alarm and immediately gone into my Safe Room before any nukes hit my neighborhood.
Nice talk, Renee. Seriously nice (bleepin’) talk.
Finally Christina couldn’t take anymore of the BS, and realizing that nobody had even touched the appetizers in all the chaos, shoved a camera guy out of the way and went home after scoring a (bleep) or two of her own.
The next day after the dust had settled and some of the swelling had gone down, Pia and her daughter Bella headed out for a stroll and some quality time in their Ugg boots.
Mom wanted to fill her daughter in on everything that had gone down at the party before she caught wind of it at school or on the Reunion Show and hopefully enjoy a little Mother/Daughter bonding at the same time.
I like Bella. Quite a bit, actually. She seemed to have a pretty good head on her shoulders, and supported her Mom regardless of any good or bad choices she may have made over the last 15 years. We got a little bit of backstory on the family, and Pia had a good cry.
Bella is getting to that age when the other girls at school are going to start tossing her some serious locker room attitude for having a stripper Mom, so Pia had decided to give up the pole and do something else to keep the Netflix account active. What that is going to be exactly is still TBD, but kudos Pia for being proactive and getting the ball rolling.
(That was an unintentional stripper joke…but in retrospect it’s a keeper. I almost wish I had said Pia had been ‘juggling a lot of balls in the air’ or something, but I missed the opportunity. I swear, sometimes the funnies just come out of me and I don’t even realize it until it’s too late.)
Then it was time for a One Woman Crusade/Restaurant Tour as Christina began searching out every party victim in an attempt to reunite all the girls and basically fix this hot mess.
Yeah. Good luck with that, sister.
First on her list was Nora, who dramatically entered the restaurant looking like Chicago’s Phantom of The Opera wearing Jackie O sunglasses, of course.
Pause here to scroll back up and check out the size of the ring on Renee’s hand in one of the above photos.
Then do the mathematical calculations for velocity x force x bitch face…and now you can imagine the severity of little Nora’s battle scars when she slowly removed her googly eyed sunglasses and revealed a slice of seriously tenderized luncheon meat face.
Bitch was beat up.
Besides her raspy Walmart voice and strange obsession with shoulder cut-outs, Christina also has a big heart, and she really felt bad for Nora. Christina has compassion for people, even ditzy ones, and she really wanted to help Nora get past all the drama even though the chick sometimes drives her bazoinkers.
Second stop on the Crusade was an opportunity to multi-task. Christina got to talk to my girl Leah and score a free pedicure at the same time. Win-Win.
Who knew? I had no idea that Goombalicious Leah was also skilled in the world of manis and pedis. But she is, and she got right down to bidnezz on Christina’s little piggies while listening to all the reasons why everyone should just get along despite that whole annoying molestation accusation.
Now everyone knows I love me some Leah. Especially when her hair and eyeglass stylings are both cray cray. But I don’t know if I would ruffle her feathers while she’s down there grinding a pumice stone on my delicate paws. The more Christina pled Nora’s case, the harder Leah ground into Christina’s toes. Yeeouch. I need all ten of those, thank you.
Did I mention how much I love Leah?
I love the way she talks. Like she’s giving a lecture at Goomba U, and every word has a coordinating hand motion to drive the point home to the kids way up in the cheap seats.
Hands are up. Hands are down. Fingers are stuck together. She’s pointing. She’s Badabing-ing. I’m pretty sure Leah even vogued a few dance moves before giving her final opinion on the whole matter.
Nora needs to keep her Goombazoo shut. Which I guess is her mouth. Or at least I hope it is. Eeew.
Moving on, Christina took her Tour, and her shiny new toes, to the docks to meet up with Pia. Not sure why they had to meet there, or why they had to approach each other like they were trading off government secrets and a stick of plutonium, but they did.
Christina couldn’t quite get a handle on why Pia was seemingly choosing Renee’s side of the story. Not only because Renee had previously turned talking smack about Pia into a lucrative part-time job, but also because Pia and Nora had a history that would seem to trump any newfound loyalty to Renee.
Nothing much got solved on that meeting, and no plutonium traded hands. You didn’t miss much.
Then it was back to another fine Chicago eatery with Leah, Renee and Christina. Same story. Different lunch special.
The Bleep Guy put his water bottle back on the button again for a few moments as Renee unleashed yet another lengthy string of nasties, this time accompanied by a few proctological fist manipulations that would easily score you bonus points in charades.
Somewhere in the heat of the conversation Renee accused Christina of defending Nora, Leah accused Christina of being a Goombasomething or other and a table of Sorority girls tried not to get caught looking over at all the action.
No clue who all those girls were, but you knew they could totally recite every single word of Call Me, Maybe. And do the dance. You could just tell.
Third time’s a charm, I guess, because Christina then met up with Leah one-on-one to cover the same topic they had just covered the last two times they were together. Leah was just about to lose her GoombaNutty by Round Three.
Then it was Christina and Pia discussing the topic. This chick’s gonna run out of restaurants before she gets this thing settled.
Whether or not she ever patches up all the leaks in these friendships, I hope Christina gets her cholesterol levels checked when this is all over. She’s been eating out a lot lately.
While everyone else was talking about how crazy Nora was, Nora was busy taking her crazy back to the winery to sample the results of her tribute wine.
The wine that was supposed to somehow taste like her MIA Dad was finally done, so Nora and BFF du jour Desiree headed back to pump out a few shots of Frank’s German Juice. There were quite a few classic Nora moments in this scene, but I forgot them all as soon as Nora decided to price the self described classy, Chicago socialite upper scale vino somewhere in the $15.99 to $17.99 range.
Price check, register 2.
While Nora played with the cork machine, Christina was back in town meeting and eating with Pia. Same story. Yet another lunch special.
I’ll give Christina her props.
She kept plugging away at this Crusade, regardless of what any of the other girls had to say. And she went at it with some seriously raspy gusto. But every once in a while you could catch her spacing out and going into her patented WTF face as Renee or Pia or Leah or Nora pled their case.
You know the face. We all do it. When you’re looking at someone but thinking something else.
Like right then as Pia went on and on about stripping and Nora…and Nora and stripping…and Christina just looked at her like she couldn’t remember if she had turned the stove off or not.
That face. I officially fell in love with Christina this week on that face alone. She is a hoot with a heart of gold. She just needs to work on her Poker Face.
The last meal of the week finally came when Christina, Nora and Leah met up for munchies.
Nora had her sad face on, and Leah had her “Over It” tee shirt on. Even though Nora tried to soften the mood by throwing Leah’s sick mother into the mix, Leah went straight for the molestation topic and explained that you just don’t pull that card out of the deck.
Ever.
Backed into a corner, Nora pulled out her iPhone and showed Leah the photos she had taken the night of her beatdown. Like when kids post those Facebook pictures they take in the bathroom mirror with their cell, but at least Nora wasn’t in her underwear or flexing or making a Jersey Shore pucker mouth.
She was just beat up.
It freaked out Leah and then she didn’t know what to think about the whole thing.
And Christina wondered if the iron was still on at home. It’s been a long week.