Swear to Gawd. Turns out all those drugs were also hardcore appetite suppressants. You gonna finish that?
Girl OhNoSheDin’t Miss Thang Werk It OhHellNo MmmHmm Bitch Please Snap OhHeyGirlfriend.
I’m totally getting those huge ones that bounce up and down at stop lights. And then if there’s any money left, I’m buying tires, too.
One is way up here, and the other one is so ratchet it’s way down here. And Lee really hates that s***.
Me? I’m just chillin’ with my grill in…looking for some Gucci cootchie.
Seriously. Not that I was looking, but it looked like it was THIS big. Let’s just say that they don’t grow ‘em like that in Arizona. Dang.
Pardon me, Joan Collins, but Dynasty Dress-Up Day was last week. So you might wanna take off that big a** fur coat and buy a bra that fits, capisce?
Looks like the Mob Wives are slowly getting their Mojo back.
Or at least their appetites. And some of their sass. Baby steps…but I’ll take ‘em.
After last episode’s slow news week where the highlights were going for a haircut and shopping for lightbulbs, it was nice to see the Wives start swearing again.
I’ll cut them a little slack, since Hurricane Sandy did force them to all play nice for a bit until the power came back on. And Renee‘s stint in rehab didn’t really lend itself to much hair pulling and plate throwing.
But now everyone has returned to Staten Island and hopefully we can get back to what made Mob Wives such an inappropriately guilty pleasure in the first place.
And maybe they’ll even talk about Mob Stuff once in awhile. Since the name of the show is…well, you know…Mob Wives.
We started right out with another stop on the seemingly never ending SI Restaurant Tour, as Renee and Drita met up at the local brick oven pizza joint to shovel it down and dish the dirt. Renee was still a little behind on her gossip after her Transitions sabbatical, and you know how Girlfriend hates being out of the loop.
Renee showed up rocking one of those Toddlers & Tiaras Mob Princess logo tees that the Pageant Moms always like to wear when they jump up and down behind the judges table. I’m not lying. The only thing missing was some puffy glitter glue and a big homemade round photo pin of Junior‘s face.
Sparkle and Turn State’s Evidence, Baby.
Drita got Renee up to speed on Lee‘s surprise return home last week and pledged to give her husband another chance when he’s released from the the halfway house, because she believes he can change his wandering ways.
That, and the fact that Mama really needs a booty call. Big Time.
You could tell that the old Renee was slowly rising from the ashes like a (bleepin’) phoenix, and it was (bleepin’) nice to see after all this (bleepin’) time.
She’s back, bitches. And she’s hungry.
Meanwhile down the street, Big Ang and Carla were hanging out at the Drunken Monkey getting caught up on their own gossip.
While that odd assortment of riff raff was once again positioned way down at the other end of the bar (…this time one of the dudes was wearing an ASPCA tee instead of a Drunken Monkey souvenir shirt. Who are these people, anyway?..) Carla relived that last meeting with Joe when he had thrown big fancy prison words, and his new girlfriend Raquel, all up in Carla’s face.
Big Ang was so captivated by Carla’s overly dramatic rehashing of the story that her only response was that she had already completed her Christimas shopping. Focus, honey.
Carla had also heard (…in all five Boroughs again, natch…) that Luscious Love Majewski had been talking shizzle about her, and that kind of behind the back shizzle made Carla want to pull out her buttah knife again and cut that bitch like a stick of warm Land O’ Lakes.
Which in turn reminded her of Renee. And then we all relived the whole dinner party scenario again. The one where Carla had threatened to slit Renee’s throat so deep that all her pills would pour out like Tic Tacs. That one.
You think maybe Carla has a hard time letting some things go?
Occasionally, a Mob Wife or two will actually cook instead of head to the restaurants, so Karen and Love hit up the local Italian grocery store for some rations. It had the word “Italian” in the name somewhere, which Love really enjoyed, and the place was full of olives and pasta and those giant dangling sausages that hang from the ceiling like juicy weiner piñatas.
As they wandered the aisles of the Italiano de Piggly Wiggly scooping up stuff that I’ve only seen on the Food Network, Karen revealed that she was headed back to Arizona to close that chapter of her life. Which was code for giving her on again, off again ex-con ex-boyfriend Dave the final kiss off.
Love was honestly a little disappointed that Karen couldn’t actually kill him since that’s her shtick, but understood that since he was legally the father of their child, little Karina would probably not be a big fan of dragging the Verde River for her Baby Daddy. So flying out and kicking the bum out of his rent-free home was a good second choice, all things considered.
While they were comparing notes on Arizona, Karen’s cell phone rang.
And it was Barry White. Or maybe the guy from Soul Train.
Or maybe it was just Storm, the record producer. It was hard to tell.
Whoever it was, he was all like “Hey baby. How You Doin’? Me? Just chillin’. I love Italian food. We should totally go eat Italian food someday. You know I can’t get enuff of your love, Babe. Deep, Dark and Delicious.”
She literally made a date for dinner, wet herself and then went outside for a cigarette.
No, you hang up first. No. You. Ok, on three. 1…2…3. OhMyGod you didn’t hang up.
It was like that. Somebody’s got a crush. Like, totally. OMG.
Back in adult land, Drita and Big Ang went to the auto body shop to pick up the new custom rims for Drita’s car. If Lee was gonna be riding this thing, she had to pimp it out.
She got herself some massive rims with the words “Lady Boss” stenciled in the center, along with her signature. They were bad a** dope. Like the kind those Dbag guys always have that reflect those Dbag neon lights that are screwed in underneath the chassis that change colors everytime the bass cranks Smack My Bitch Up and sets off a parked car alarm at freakin’ 2am.
That kind.
And since Lee was also going to be doing a lot of riding when he wasn’t in the car, so to speak, Drita was going up on the lift as well for a new set of boobs, because something was going on with the right one that freaked her out a little.
Honestly, after living in a halfway house and working full time in a funeral home until his release, I’m pretty sure Lee would be all over that even if she looked like a unicorn.
But Drita gets what Drita wants. So new boobs, it is.
Then Karen and Storm went on their first date.
She was all nervous and giggly and knocking over drinks. He was all Gangstah Gucci and more blinged out than his date, wearing a silver/diamond Flava Flav grill on his bottom teeth, which must have made him drool a lot if those things fit anything like my retainer did in junior high. Trust me. There’s like no place for your tongue to go and you end up sounding like you either took a shot of novocaine or you’re having a stroke.
After some awkwardly unintentional dirty jokes, they both chilled out a little and talked about their kids over dinner, but the cameras shut off before I could figure out how someone actually chews food with those grills in your face. I’m so not gangstah.
The next morning, as Karen was writing about her date in a Hello Kitty diary, Ramona was over at TD Bank picking up her engagement ring.
As you may or may not yet know, her incarcerated boyfriend Joseph “Joe Boy” Sclafani (…YES…finally…some info on this dude has leaked…) had purchased the ring right before he was snagged by the Feds after someone implicated him in helping to facilitate a cocaine trafficking ring.
That would probably explain why all her jewelry was confiscated as potential evidence, as well as that 27 car roadblock that she and Joe Boy drove straight into last year.
He’s looking at over 10 years in prison. But they both insist on going through with the wedding, and a bride needs a ring. And not one that is being held by the judical system.
Turns out that the ring was bought with actual honest cash, so Ramona had finally gotten the legal ok from Regis & Kelly to pick it up from the safety deposit box at TD Bank. She even removed her iPhone case before she went to retrieve it, so if a diamond can’t even fit through the hole in a brass knuckle than you know it’s gotta be a big piece of stone.
Spoiler Alert: Wait till next week when I fill you in on the wedding plans at Coral House on Long Island. Cray Cray.
She hit up Karen on her cell and asked her to meet at the apartment, where she was going to finally spill the beans on her wedding and watch Karen squeal with joy.
Yeah. That didn’t happen.
Karen had been down this road already, and knew what Ramona was getting into. She pretty much burst her bubble before Ramona even got to the part about Joe only being let out on parole for one week, due to the fact that he would require an armed guard at all times. And then the whole thing just spun out of control in a Dr. Phil meets Mob Wives kind of way. Haters gonna hate.
Like I said. Mojo’s coming back. Slowly. But it’s coming back.
Ramona’s living in a bubble. A (bleepin’) nightmare. Karen waited for Dave for over 10 years…for nuthin. Say it. Say it. Say it. Whaddayou want me to say?
And then Karen got all Bada Bing on Ramona’s a** and called her either stunod or stunatu or a dialectish variation thereof (…yeah…I’m clearly not gangstah OR Sicilian, can you tell?…) and then they just pissed each other off with their Italian hands.
Mojo.
After that we all needed some fresh air, so we headed out to Love’s front porch where she received a call from one of her 200 ex-boyfriend fiancé types.
This one was named Fate.
For real. Like when Love tempts Fate. You can’t make this s*** up. And you know he has at least one tattoo and uses hair gel. You could just tell by his voice.
Of all her many stabbing victims, Fate is the only one she would ever commit to long term. She even said it on the phone. But he lives on the West Coast, and she lives on the East Coast.
So for right now, it’s just dirty talk on the phone and dog walking for Ms. Majewski.
Then the whole thing just went straight up Real Housewives of Staten Island.
Alisa Maria, fur & handbag designer and Halle Barry wannabe, threw a dress-up party at her home for all the Wives and some Staten Island randomness.
The only way I can describe it is if you can imagine a leather handbag trunk show taking place at RHONJ Teresa Giudice‘s house and then someone else shows up with about 20 of those Garment District rolling racks packed full of the massive fur coats that they used to wear on Dynasty.
Because that’s exactly how it went down.
Everyone was trying stuff on and running around like they were going to push each other into the koi pond before Blake got home from the office.
And like every good Real Housewives episode, it all ends up with a fight in the kitchen.
Somehow Renee managed to get liquored up on bottled water, and was all loud and hysterical as she captivated the audience with her stories about Men and Loyalty.
At some point during the hilarity, Karen tried on one of Alexis Carrington‘s fur coats which Ramona said made her look like a snow bunny that should be shot, gutted and hung on the shed door and then one misunderstanding after another caused Ramona to believe that Renee was talking about her impending marriage.
I know, right? Cuz it was a secret. Which no one but Karen knew about.
So she must have leaked the news. And then Ramona got pissed, because nobody else should be shining on her parade. Which was so redoinkulously opposite of what the saying really is that I had to pause the DVR for a moment to just process what happened.
Then it was all out in the open. Just like Ramona’s boobs.
(Seriously. Did you see her outfit? Bazoinga! Mob Wives in IMAX 3D.)
Boom. Show them the Ring. You’re the Grim Reaper of Engagements. Karen’s in the Twilight Zone. You should get married. You should stay engaged. You should either pay for that fur or stop sweating in it. Who are all these other people?
Total misinterpretations and absolute chaos.
Somehow at rehab, intentionally or not, it appears that the Transitions staff managed to not only sober up Renee but also inject her with some of NeNe Leakes DNA, because Miss Thang was all Fierce and Sassy and You Keep That Ring And Hoc It Girlfriend as she head bopped her way across my television. It had to be seen to be believed.
Graziano is the New Black.
And then Ramona pushed Karen into the koi pond.
Next week…Big Ang’s Christmas Party.
Be there, or Carla will cut you.
