Then I was all like…whatever, bitch.
Then they push your head down like this and call you their prison girlfriend.
Then I thanked the Baby Jesus for making me the pretty one.
Then after I sniff all this I don’t even remember I’m a Giudice, and it all goes away.
Then I’ze gonna nail her like a Home Depot project.
Don’t be alarmed.
The sound you just heard was simply a stampede of Prostitution Whores running for cover, which can only mean one thing.
She’s back. And she brought friends.
Or at least they used to be friends. Now I’m not sure what they’re called.
But regardless…they’re all back.
And it’s all going down. Down to the shore.
The Real Housewives of New Jersey just returned for another season and wasted no time stirring that big spaghetti pot of drama.
Apparently Television Time, or at least Bravo TV Time, doesn’t work off of the same clock that you and I do, so Teresa (…say my last name 5 different ways…) Giudice and the gang pretty much picked up right where we left them all those many months ago.
Since the previous season was so dysfunctionally tasty, and Teresa’s life was still such a guaranteed hot mess, Andy Cohen and the Gods of Reality were quick to think on their feet and filmed this new season right on top of the one that just wrapped.
That means that all the Giudice vs Gorga head butting is still as fresh as the day it came out of the oven, with only a TV Time break for the 14 part Reunion Show.
It’s like time stood still.
So welcome to Season 4. Or Season 3.5. Or Season 3 SuperSized.
To steal Teresa’s nervous go-to line…Whatever.
It was still Summer in Joisey as we got reacquainted with The Family. Everyone was trying to deal with the less than glowing remarks that Teresa had laid down in her second cookbook.
Though Teresa (…ok, allegedly…everyone happy?….) didn’t appear to be very hands-on in creating the recipes or even lighting the stove’s pilot light, she did find time to stick it to a few of her closest family members as soon as you cracked the cover of the book.
Between implying that a part-time Olive Garden waiter had more Italian DNA than Caroline, and that sister-in-law Melissa stalks Teresa’s front yard at night with an infrared camera so she can copy her style when Crate & Barrel opens in the morning, Mrs. Giudice also managed to slam Caroline’s son and his bikini car wash before we even got to the first recipe.
And if there’s one thing we’ve all learned over the years, you don’t mess with the Manzo Family. You just don’t.
Summer in New Jersey always means cookouts and shirtless Guidos, so there were plenty of weenies to be had as the Gorgas and the Wakiles enjoyed a poolside picnic.
Bro Joe Gorga, his newly waxed chest and BluBlocker model Richie were all trying to figure out what was really going on inside Teresa’s head as they grilled up some dogs and made little meat jokes.
Seriously. Richie. I don’t think that even railroad iron welders are provided the level of eye protection that Richie wears. Dude does likes his shades.
Kathy and Melissa usually play the Can’t We All Get Along card more than the boys, but even they have their breaking points. Kathy’s made for Reality TV sister Rosie took time out from whatever it is she does, and was more than happy to do a little Teresa bashing.
I love Rosie.
Between last season’s never ending Chelsea Dock runway couture, to her self deprecating humor and that punch you in the face if you get in mine attitude, she is one ManChick that you do not want to mess with.
In retrospect, she is also one ManChick that you probably should never refer to as a ManChick. Someday I just need to start taking my own advice.
Over at Jacqueline’s, the aforementioned Manzo Famiglia were also getting together for some snacks. Apparently having drawn the short straw, they had also invited Teresa’s entire circus to join them, and were all trying to get in their Giudice Gossip before the caravan actually showed. Luckily, Teresa has never been on time in her life so they didn’t have to rush through any of the good stuff.
On top of the tension between Teresa and the rest of NJ, Jacqueline was still dealing with Wild Child Ashley.
Except now she’s Ashlee in Real World Time. And now she’s a seriously over processed blonde. And Mom said she had tattoos, but I couldn’t bring myself to look.
Honey. Listen to me. Tweaking your name might buy you some time when they are compiling all your DUIs, and maybe even score you a Grand Supreme Miss Pretty Face if you were 13 years younger. But trust me…you’re still a sloppy mess who can’t figure out how to piece together a Dyson vacuum. Give it up.
When Teresa finally decided to show, she and Caroline scooted outside for a minute to deal with the Cookbookgate controversy.
As Caroline massaged the side of her face to prevent an oncoming stroke, Teresa slipped right into full denial mode and couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t think the cookbook jokes were funny.
Umm. One…they weren’t jokes. Two…they weren’t funny. How ’bout that?
Caroline just wasn’t in the mood, so she forced out one of those fake hugs you give that creepy uncle with the unzipped fly and then went back in for leftovers.
Then it was time to pack for the beach, because most of the gang was headed to the beach. The Jersey Shore!
Relax. Not that one. Not the Snookie one. Gross.
Well…yeah, it is the same shore…if you want to get technical.
And horny Bro Joe was going on and on about the Smush Room even while he and Melissa were packing up their zip lock bag full of nasties. He’s like a dog that never stops humping your leg at dinner.
And Richie probably does own a pair of those light up glasses for the club, but hopefully the Housewives and Househusbands aren’t going to be passing out on the boardwalk with their naughty bits all blurred out on camera.
Hopefully.
Getting all of the Giudices out of the house is always good for some laughs, and this time didn’t disappoint either.
As Teresa tried to rope up Gia, Audriana, Gabriella and Milania like they were sheep that somehow got out of the barn, greasy Jabba Joe was dumping a full Tupperware garbage can of Alpo into paint buckets to feed what appeared to be wild wolves that roam their yard.
After he fed the livestock, Joe also hoisted a ginormous mound of tied up plastic tarp over his shoulder like Lou Ferrigno’s stubby, chubby Italian stunt double and heaved it onto the roof of the car.
Memo to Joe for next time: Check to see if your camping gear is infested with rats before you transport it across city lines. When they got to the beach house and unleashed those rodents, GottaPeeAh and Mexicana and Espadrilla all jumped on the table like Hooters Girls. Good practice for later in life when Daddy is serving time, I guess.
Since having everyone all under one roof would cause the Jersey Shore to implode, Teresa and Jabba Joe had their own digs while Bro Joe and Melissa bunked with Kathy and Richie down the block.
Melissa’s new dream beach house was far from being completed, so they couldn’t sleep in their own home quite yet. As the construction overseer guy, Joe couldn’t remember to install toilets but he made certain that the bedroom had enough soundproof insulation blown behind the sheetrock to handle a Rolling Stones concert.
Daddy likes it quiet while he’s serving a wedge of his Gorgazola cheese, if you know what I mean. I swear when he dies they’re going to have to bury him with the lid still open until the swelling goes down.
Over at the Giudice beach digs, Teresa wanted to talk to Jabba about a few issues.
Personally, the first one I would have addressed would have been why he insists on never wearing a shirt or doing sit ups. That’s what I want to know.
Beyonce is right. I am not so ready for that jelly, dude.
I could care less about what he thinks they should do with all the magazine covers that Chia and DingDongBella are starting to read at Target.
Just put your shirt on. And make it a hoodie.
Teresa is concerned about all the gossip surrounding whether or not Joe is going to jail. Now I’ve met a lot of dopey people in my short career as a freak-seeker, but Jabba is right up there in the Top Five.
Unless one of the beach patrolmen just accidentally shot him in the neck with a tranquilizer dart, Joe has to be be the most blahhdoofiest guy I’ve ever come across.
He’s so blahhdoofy that I think I just made up a word.
Trust me. I’m Exhibit A. Nobody likes waking up, but sooner or later you snap out of that fog. I bet my salary Joe’s been in that fog since elementary school.
Back up the Expressway in the ‘burbs, they were filming a commercial for the blk water that Albie and Chris launched last season. Or at least that’s what I thought they were doing, until I realized that it was just Caroline, Jacqueline and Lauren power walking through the neighborhood.
Just power walking. All in black and white. All holding bottles of blk. With the blk logo on Lauren’s plus size tshirt.
That’s just what I want when I exercise. A nice big gulp of black Jersey water. Am I the only one who noticed that nobody took a swig out of any of those bottles?
Impressive color-coordinated product placement though. Props to the ad guy.
Next week Teresa will be driving the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile to her hair appointment.
Back at the beach, Teresa and Bro Joe plopped it down to discuss the same thing they’ve been discussing since last year’s shows. They just replaced the christening and the book signing with all-weather adirondack chairs.
Teresa was still in denial, and Bro Joe was still frustrated. They went on and on about the InTouch Magazine story and Jabba Joe’s debt, and Jabba Joe’s jail time, and Jabba Joe’s DMV scam and blah to the Jabbah Joe to the blah.
There was also some confusion as to why Bro Joe never called when Jabbah Joe “went away,” which is preschool talk for a week in the slammer being someone’s cell bitch.
Before anything was really settled, Teresa started in with the “whatever, Joe” thing again and you knew this one was going nowhere. But they’re family. One big screwed up family.
While everyone else was sunning and gossiping, Jacqueline and Chris were back home dealing with the Wild Child.
After giving Ashley/Ashlee more than ample time to get her s*** together and also figure out how to attach the Dyson carpet nozzle without poking her own eye out, Chris was done with the drama.
Ultimatum.
Agree to move in with Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary out in Las Vegas, or get kicked out of the house in the morning. How they think that sending a 24/7 party girl to Las Vegas will tone all that down is beyond me, but I’m not a parent so I’ll let Chris be the Bad Cop in this one.
When Ash complained that she already had made drinking plans with friends that were home from school and that getting kicked out would like OMG totally interfere with the club scene, it was pretty clear that she had lost her grip on reality.
She also appeared to have lost her Clairol root touch-up brush, because Girrrrrl…that hair was looking shady. Don’t make me mess up my Housewives and get all NeNe on that bad weave.
Fix yo’ face…and yo’ hair…and then we’ll talk.
So it looked like Ashley, or Ashlee, or both of them are out the door in the morning because she agreed to the Las Vegas scene.
And no one held anyone’s head under water down at the shore. So it looks like everyone survived the first week back.
But never say never in New Jersey.
