My Botox brings all the Feds to the yard. And they’re like…it’s tighter than yours.
Stick dat in her lip, bitch. That makes all the Wise Guys itch.
Hollah.
I don’t like that rap s***. Don’t like it all. Just crack the bitch’s jaw in half and we’ll go to the Mall.
Poke dem needles in my eyes. Plump dem up to match my thighs.
Where all my Mob Wives at? Can I get a whoop whoop?
It was Word To Your (bleepin’) Gangstah Mother Week as our favorite Mobettes rapped, snapped and laser zapped themselves into a frenzy, all thanks to Karen and Drita’s up and coming careers.
Finally putting aside at least a little slice of the drama surrounding Junior and that wire-wearing fiasco, Renee and the girls were working at moving on with their lives.
And what better way to move on than by getting a facial or robbing a bank in a nun mask?
Am I right?
Maybe not necessarily in that order, but both are pretty certain to make you feel better about yourself. At least on Staten Island, anyway.
But first we had to deal with some of the petty legal ramifications that come from being the victim of a Federal Agency sting operation, as Renee finished up with her Dad Anthony Graziano’s first court appearance since getting busted for talking into Junior’s lapel corsage.
As Renee strolled back to the car she reached out to everyone’s favorite raspy go-to Voice of Reason, Big Ang, for some cell phone counseling.
Gah. I love me some Big Ang. I would call her for lottery ticket numbers. Any excuse to hear that Herman Munster laugh in my ear. VH1—where is my Big Ang ringtone?
And my Fan Club duel purpose decoder ring & lock pick? Did my application get lost in the mail? What’s the hold up? (No pun intended, but pretty funny in retrospect.)
It was a brief phone call, but it will surely open up another can of worms on the whole Right vs. Wrong thing that the online forums are loving lately.
As they both complained about the Feds basically doing the jobs they are hired to do, Renee also played the sympathy card for Daddy. During the initial booking and fingerprinting they apparently took the change from his pockets and the Miracle Ear from his head, because he couldn’t hear anything the judge was saying. Dad also walked with a cane and a guard.
When Renee started in on how Dad should be respected because he didn’t do anything wrong, I immediately washed my hands of this one and am going to leave it to the Talk Radio stations.
Helloooooo, Staten Island. Long time Mobster, first time Caller.
I’ll leave it to the online community to stick it to Renee, because next we all had to go and stick it to Big Ang.
Literally.
Accompanied by her sister Janine, God’s Gift to Reality was looking to score some Botox at a discounted Costco quantity price.
Meeting with Dr. Lederman, who was a delightfully mashed up version of The Muppets’ Swedish Chef and that vixen Natasha Fatale who always wanted to “Kill Moose and Squirrel” on The Bullwinkle Show, Big Ang proudly rambled off all her previous cosmetic surgeries. Kind of like a completed Bucket List. But a really long one.
(Side note: You can totally use Natasha’s last name at your next Trivia Night Out. You’ll totally win the free appetizers. Consider it my gift to you for faithfully following my site.)
As Dr. Lederman sang the “Plump It Plump It” song, she stuck Big Ang in the face as many times as allowed by malpractice legal journals and then dramatically unveiled the results, which were unfortunately nowhere near as severe as Big Ang had hoped for and the Doc had to go back in for seconds.
Seriously. I love me some Big Ang, but if they plump her up anymore it’s going to take at least 32 of those Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade clowns to hold her down so the wind doesn’t blow her out over Long Island Sound.
Turned out he had just finished up his state sentence in whatever prison it is people do state sentences in down there, and was being relocated so he could start working on his federal sentence.
Initially more focused on her new bite sized puppy than Lee’s call, Drita snapped back when he announced that he was going to be incarcerated in Brooklyn. She got a little freaked out by the fact that he was going to now be just down the block instead of 8 hours away. So much so that she knocked the gigantic pink bow right off the puppy’s noggin, which thankfully allowed Lucky to finally lift her little nugget head into an upright position.
Now even though Google Earth shows that Brooklyn is fairly close in proximity to Staten Island, I would think that the prison could just as well be on the Moon and Drita would still have about the same chances for ever running into Lee at Target.
Prison is prison, honey. They still lock the doors.
Since Drita is currently in full Don’t Need No Man mode, she scored the chance to use her rap skills (?) for a new music video to help put food on the table.
There is no question that Drita can split a human skull open with her elbow, but the jury was still out when it came to her mad gangstah rap skillz, so she met up with her crew at Bad Boy Records to get the full fashizzle on the job. VPs Nick and Jason, one or the other of whom she had met a bazizzle years ago at a Diddy party, filled her in on the deets.
The video was for a French Montana song, and involved Drita being the driver of a getaway car used in a bank heist. If you were like 99% of the country, you probably initially wondered what bank robbery had to do with the state of Montana, and how a secret French province had somehow slipped by you all these years. Are they really that close to Canada?
Der. He’s a rapper. Does your cable company not offer those stations? Most aren’t in full HD yet, but either check into it or lose all your street cred.
Even Beyoncé knows you gotta upgrade, bitch.
While Drita was getting the LD (…gah…low down…) on the beat spitting, Big Ang was doing some more remodeling on her head. Now that she was all plumped up, that new face needed some new hair…and fast.
Big Ang had put in a 911 to someone I swear had to be a second cousin to one of those Jerseylicious girls, who immediately rushed to the house with one bag full of extensions and another bag of gossipy attitude.
As she clamped and glued and stitched Big Ang’s new doo into place, the two of them dished on finding love outside the Mob and how Big Ang’s loser sanitation worker husband was still living with his mother after being kicked out of Casa Raiola for too much partying and late night carousing. The aerosol and the root glue must not have been flammable, because Big Ang was puffing and flicking matches like it was her job as the two of them dragged her husband’s name through the mud.
But we all know how those sanitation workers like it dirty. Pun totally intended.
Trust me, the only thing missing from the scene were 3 other nosey women sitting under helmet dryers reading InTouch and going “Oooooh, girl…you so right.”
Then it was on to Karen’s latest venture.
Now that her book was launched and shooting up the charts like a bullet from an unregistered sawed-off, Karen was looking to expand her empire and make New York her home.
Somehow between all the publishing drama and rooftop chick fights, Karen had still found time to hook up with the wrinkle-free Dr. Fiorello for a business venture. He was opening a new Nip/Tuck kind of office space in Manhattan, and had asked Karen to bring some of her Arizona Spa magic to the second floor. The place was a full blown construction site, but the Doctor was still planning on opening up in a few weeks.
Realizing that she needed some help, Karen asked Ramona and Renee to join her in this new project. Ramona was put in charge of the laser equipment, which either meant finding some or building some I guess, while Renee was sent to iParty for the gift bags.
I have a feeling that Karen wasn’t 100% certain that Renee wouldn’t melt down in the middle of the project if someone mentioned Junior, so I think she gave her the easy one as a test. They’re gift bags. How hard could it be?
Not as hard as rapping, that’s fo’ sho’.
Drita hit up Anthony Acid’s studio to lay down her rap tracks and quickly found out that bustin’ thug tunez on a 16 count was a lot tougher than it looked on Behind The Music.
The whole thing started out a big hot mess, much like if you asked your Mom to recite some uncensored Li’l Kim while the two of you were making cupcakes for the bake sale.
But eventually Drita channeled her inner street punk and through the magic of way too many gratuitous boob shots, auto tune and a soundboard mixer, she laid down the trackz, haters.
That street punk channeling resulted in a mad rush of adrenaline, and for a second I thought she was going to throw a city trash can thru the window of Best Buy and go home with a plasma. But Anthony talked her down and she went home happy with just the head rush.
Oh, yeah. Carla. They almost forgot Carla this week. She went to nosh with Renee, where she refused to go to the grand opening of Karen’s spa, waffled on whether she would make up with Ramona and then ate while Renee talked. I think they’re running out of things for her to do.
Carla really needs to slap somebody soon or they won’t ask her back for Season Three.
Over at the Drunken Monkey, Ramona was getting bullied by Big Ang into making up with Drita and Carla. Renee and Big Ang just want everyone to get along.
And they want better boobs. Everyone get along. And bigger, better boobs.
Then Carla, Renee and Drita got together for even more snacks. This time around Drita was bullied into making up with Karen. I swear, this show should come with a spreadsheet in TV Guide so you can track who hates who and who makes up with who and maybe recipes for some of those salads they eat. Some of them look pretty tasty.
Then it was Party Time.
The Nip/Tuck Shop had their VIP grand opening, but Ramona didn’t get the lasers there in time. Way to go.
And then Renee strolled in with no gift bags. Again…way to go. All the times you go to Rite-Aid to fill your Xanax prescriptions and you couldn’t go down the Hallmark aisle?
Karen was not happy. But like any Real Housewives show, the opening/launch of whatever it is always ends up going off without a hitch, so the place was a success and everyone was happy. Renee even found an all-night party store and stuffed bags like Lucy on the chocolate factory assembly line before the guests had to leave empty handed.
The music video also went of without a hitch. A van full of bank robbers wearing nun masks always makes for a good time, especially when they squeal away in a hail of gunfire to a (bleeped) out rap soundtrack sung by a Mob Wife with a new puppy.
You can’t make this stuff up.
By the time Karen and her cousin Rena, who looked remarkably like Chaci’s mother on Happy Days, sat down for yet another meal, I was losing track.
Big Ang wants Ramona to make up with Carla. Renee wants Karen to make up with Drita. Somebody wants Drita to make up with Ramona. Rena wants Karen to crack Drita’s jaw. Ramona still wants her jewelry back.
And now I just want a puppy.
