I heard that the Red Cross was looking for donations of canned goods and Louboutin stilettos.
OMG! It’s from Child Services. They got my Hello Kitty text!
F*** You. I’ll have you know this outfit won First Prize on Golden Girls Nite at the Shady Lady.
I warned Rosie not to wear Mom’s good outfit on the Pride float. She’s gonna kill her when she gets home tonight.
OhMyGod, Babe. The Chanel Runway Show was bananas. I choked on my pink lollipop and literally died a little. Maj.
Ok. Srsly. These bitches be cray.
Sweetie, you are preaching to the choir. Amen.
Here’s a thought.
You might want to keep that plywood on your windows for a few more months.
Just when New Jersey thought it had finally made some headway in the Hurricane Sandy recovery…they’re baaaaack.
That’s right. The Real Housewives of New Jersey returned this week to unleash a 5th season of disfunzioni familiari all over our living room floors, and I couldn’t be happier.
All the body glitter and side eye that we’ve come to expect was back, with Teresa Giudice and Melissa Gorga‘s never ending feud still front and center. And just as uncomfortably awkward as we remembered, thank you.
But this time, with TWO scoops of Rosie!
Yup. Looks like Kathy Wakile‘s internet phenom sister has been bumped up to second string Housewife status this season. She even got her own confessional interview shot, which was like a delightfully tasty surprise at the bottom of the box.
(That was not even a planned sexual innuendo. I swear. Sometimes I’m just unintentionally hilarious. It’s a gift…and a curse.)
The last time we saw everyone together, it was back at The Borgata Hotel, Casino & Cat Fight Cage in Atlantic City during the bronziest (…is that even a word?…) Reunion Show evah. Sprayed down and rolled up like five of my best Toddlers & Tiaras girls, the Wives went a full 3 Rounds in the mud before an exhausted, and equally tanned, Andy Cohen had to wave his blue cards in the air and call it a draw.
Thanks for coming, Ladies. Here’s some lovely parting gifts. Have a shotski, tip the waiter and slap the person next to you before you leave.
Flash forward to this week, and it has been over a year since Teresa has last seen brother Joe and Melissa. Needless to say, it didn’t take quite that long for the Detective in me to figure out that things must not have smoothed themselves out much while I was over on Lifetime watching Dance Moms.
And I think it’s safe to say that I was correct in that assumption.
We started out down at the Jersey Shore as everyone surveyed their Sandy-damaged summer homes. Even NBC’s Brian Williams got to do a Man in the Field cameo in front of a pile of telephone poles which I’m sure was a highlight of his news career, if not a close second to that time he was on The Soup.
The devastation and tragic aftermath of Hurricane Sandy was just as poignant as it had been back when we first saw it unfold on The Weather Channel, though I’ll admit that having Teresa react to the battered coastline while teased up in full hair and makeup did take some of the emotional impact away from the homeless people aimlessly wandering around holding their toasters.
She remarked how sad it all was, and that if she had been in the house during the storm when the water poured in, she would have drowned-ed.
Like drowned. But with an extra “-ed” at the end. Cuz dat’s how she tawks in Joisey.
And only Melissa could drive through a meteorological war zone wearing a Latoya Jackson silver shoulder epaulette number and still come off as pretty sympathetic.
But they both meant well.
In all honesty, the Gorga house looked pretty much like it did during that last party when everyone trashed the pool and Rosie got all horned up, but Joe seemed to think it needed some new paint. And he’s the contractor, so I’ll believe him this time.
We only saw the back of Kathy and Richie‘s heads as they drove around the beach community, so I don’t know if they were in full makeup or if Kathy was bandaged up from another 1,000 mile nose job tune-up. They only rent, so the producers clearly didn’t think they warranted much screen time.
Back home in Jersey, Teresa gathered what appeared to be 45 of her daughters together to go through their closets and make a clothing donation for the Sandy survivors.
If I had time to go back and rewind the DVR, it was probably only the four kids we’ve seen every season. The ones with all the rhyming names. But now that they are growing up and getting snarkier, they seemed to be everywhere in every camera shot, either falling on the floor, sucker punching each other or climbing up on those chandeliers that Jabba Joe can’t really afford anymore.
It’s like Bravo used some Star Wars CGI program or something and photoshopped a billion little Milanias and Begonias and Patagonias and Calzonias into one scene.
And at least one of them seems to have gone through that SuperFast Soap Opera aging thing that so many child actors go through in daytime television. You know, when they get sent into the bedroom to play with their Legos while Mom and Dad have a talk and then come back out as teenagers during Sweeps Week.
(Hello…General Hospital. Are you listening to me?)
Gia. The one that looks like she could be a shrinky-dinked Kirstie Alley. She’s now 11 going on 29 or something, and we can only pray that her height eventually catches up to her bad attitude.
Question: Is 11 too young for me to call someone a spoiled little bitch?
Because if it is, I won’t. I’d never bully a child. That ain’t right. If I have to wait until she comes back out of the bedroom, I will. Then it’s Game On.
But, anyway. The clothing donations. Teresa had heard that the hurricane victims were in need of beautiful and glamorous clothes.
Hand to Gawd. She said that.
So while Gia rolled her eyes around like one of those Cat Clocks you always see in Chinese restaurants and tiny Milania pined away for her cousin Antonia, everyone tossed something ruffled or sparkly into a pile and then Teresa bagged it all up for good karma.
Next time you see a little kid on the news walking down the Boardwalk dressed up like a Gypsy, you’ll know who to thank.
Over at Casa Gorga, Melissa and Joe were (…again…) lamenting the family dramz and trying to figure out how to get the little cousins all together for a play date. Antonia had even handwritten a note to her cousin Milania (…spelled incorrectly, which would later come back to bite her on her baby butt…) asking to see her soon. The whole thing was so wrong and so sad on so many levels.
Unfortunately, it was also overshadowed by the visual of clunky, beefy Joe trying to delicately sip tea from a porcelain cup while eating biscotti.
Why yes, I do fancy another sip, Mum. And how about those Giants?
Dude. Please. Man Up and have a protein shake straight from the GNC shaker before you lose your Membership Card.
Speaking of Manning Up…
Rosie. We love her. And watching her whine to Kathy and Mom about the lack of fish in the sea was a delight.
(Again…no innuendo. Just hilarity.)
The only problem this time around was with the wardrobe department. For realz.
When we first met Rosie, it was a revolving door of fashion do’s and don’ts. Remember how she rocked that train conductor hat? Or her plus-size Rhythm Nation back-up dancer outfit? And who could forget those straight up East Village Kick You In The Nuts ensembles? Instant classics.
After all that previous awesomeness, seeing her styled up this week like it was a cold night at an outdoor Paul Anka concert in Boca Raton was pretty disturbing. Visually and emotionally.
Just Say No to neck scarves unless you’re Bea Arthur. It’s a rule.
I don’t even remember what they talked about, but her Mom put her head in her hands at the same time I did.
While my eyes were still stinging, we headed back to Teresa’s, where Milania had just recieved the note from Antonia.
Yes, it was spelled incorrectly. But they’re kids. And it was redoinkulously precious.
Except Kirstie Alley didn’t think so, who made another Chinese restaurant face, cracked some wise a** remark and then headed to the garage to narc on the cousins to sweaty Jabba Joe in the middle of his heavy bag grunting.
Man, if she wasn’t 11 I would be all over that spoiled li……..
Anyway. Hoboken.
Caroline “Yoda” Manzo and hubby had recently rented an apartment in Hoboken as a test run for down-sizing. Whereas most of us would just drop some premium channels from our cable bill to test living within a budget, the Manzos just spend more money on real estate.
Seems fair.
Caroline denied that she moved to Hoboken to be closer to Albie and Chris, who were noticeably MIA this week, even though the entire Free World knows what a Helicopter Mom she is when it comes to Family.
Family. You don’t mess with them. You don’t hurt them. And you don’t let them out of your sight. Ever.
Remember those matching bracelets she gave everyone for Christmas a few seasons ago? The bracelets with the GPS chip in the clasp?
Yeah. Mama sees you.
While the Manzo boys were off in Hoboken somewhere trying to chew off their own wrists, Teresa and Melissa were busy turning a simple play date into a ceremony for visiting dignitaries.
Seriously. The Royal Wedding didn’t take this much pre-planning. Texts. More texts.
And then some more texts.
I literally thought I was watching an iPhone commercial until Jabba Joe called Melissa a Stank A** Bitch, and I didn’t think Steve Jobs would have let that one slip past him.
The next day, as Kirstie Alley led Teresa around by her credit card clutch strap through some TweenyBop Boutique in search of booty hugging skirts to impress her new playground boyfriend, the texting continued. Except this time, Teresa got her daughter so involved in all the dysfunction that Gia finally snatched the iPhone from Mom and texted Aunt Melissa herself. Gah, Mom. You’re so lame.
That’s how you make sure you don’t involve the kids, I always say.
And did anyone else notice that Kirstie is only 11 years old and she was holding her Louis bag in the crook of her arm like an Olsen Twin?
Geezis. Where’s my mocha grandé latte? OMG. Mom is driving me nuts lately.
Finally, it was Play Date Day!
After all the texts, smack talk and a Secret Service pat down, Melissa came face to face with Teresa at some little Bead Shop where the girls got to make odd little springy things while the Aunts just sat and glared at each other across the craft table.
Awkward, much?
Melissa, being the Fashionista that she is, kept interjecting her opinions on the design aspects of the project until both girls got up and left the bead table.
Secretly, I had hoped that one of them would flip it like Teresa did that one time, but I don’t think they’re old enough to really know what a Prostitution Whore is, and c’mon…we all know that was the best part.
Milania came baring Giudice Gifts, of course, and presented Antonia with an iPod, which Melissa didn’t feel it was appropriate. Teresa, on the other hand, did the same dance that a quarterback does by the goal post after they score.
Booyeah. Aunt Teresa is on the board.
In case you’re wondering, Jacqueline was around this week, but just barely. She did play with her son and listen to Caroline’s gossip, but that was pretty much it. If it wasn’t the season premiere, she probably could have just taken this week off and chilled with the Manzo boys.
Finally, since Caroline didn’t want to get involved or have anything to do with Teresa anymore, she decided to get involved and get right in the middle of everything again.
I know, right?
So she took Joe Gorga out for pastries and a hug.
Don’t ask. I’m not sure why she wasn’t texting Dina instead of sharing some pie with Melissa’s husband.
But she said she’d be willing to go talk to Teresa. Again. Even though she wasn’t sure how that would all go down.
And then I set my DVR on Season Pass.
Bring it.
Get psyched. Jersey is back.
Right, Gia?
