Real Housewives of New Jersey 3.03 – Sealed With A Diss

OH MY GAWD JUICY WILL SEE MY GOODIESES!

Cue the accordions, we’re about to reminded a lot that these are Italians. What are you, ritardato? You might want to do some wrist exercises, there will be a need to emphasize your words with hand gestures. Italian Ref. #1: Rich drives home in his bright red Ferrari. He and Kathy have a bowl of soup in their Italian Ref. #2: the OperaNova dinnerware (at Neimans, classy) and take a moment to let Kathy run down the brouhaha from the Posche (gag) fashion show.

I do want to take a moment to acknowledge how cozy their home is. It’s the only one in all of the Real Housewives series that looks like an actual home you’d find anywhere. There are loads of pictures (regular pictures, not posed Glamor Shots) through out, it’s not ostentatious, and it’s not a McMansion. I seriously adore this family, I have to say. You’re on notice, Manzos, the Wakiles are on the move.

Kathy doesn’t seem to understand that the reason Caroline was upset with her (and Teresa) is because the “fashion show” wasn’t the place to hash out family bidness, ya feel me? Fashion shows are fa keeping it classy, drinking some Captain Morgan in stiletto shoe-shaped glasses, and putting on two sets of false eyelashes. Rich tells her to just talk to Caroline, make amends.

On a rainy day in New York City, Teresa goes to the photo shoot for her newest cookbook, “Fabulicious.” As she puts it, “My daughters think my food is fabulous, I know my food is delicious, so I put fabulicious and delicious together.” Er, that would make it Defabuliciouslicious, but that’s going to give any typesetter a monster of headache. She nitpicks little details with the photographer (I mean, hey. It’s her book, it’s her name on it, it’s her right) but you can tell they’re all getting tense with Tre.

Her book agent says how much she loves this book (and Skinny Italian) because “there’s no fancy ingredients.” Tre tells them all that it’s how Italians cook, (which again, true) because we don’t want a million ingredientses.” One woman bites her lip and elbows the book agent. Tre goes on to say “ingredientses” two more times. Awesome. You have to admit, this girl has some worth ethnic. She talks about how she hates comin’. Honey pie, if you hate comin’, then you ain’t doing it right.

Oh, she means cumin. Well that just hits me where I live! As the chef tosses off an irritated “QUE-men” she ignores him to take a call from Juicy. He tells her that he saw Bro Joe at the gym and was a dick to him. He doesn’t say he was a dick, but you know he was. She yapses a bit to him, meanwhile, all of the people waiting to get paid are standing around trying to not pull her weave to get her to FOCUS.

Jesus Spice is whipping up dinner for the kids, and they’re all dressed, pressed, and ready for daddy to come home. Their oldest boy is in his high chair with his hat, again, and the editors like to show the daughter and son interacting a lot. We get it, guys, Bro Joe and Tre used to be just like this. Including the nose hit with the spoon, I’m sure. You gotta give Mel credit, though, love her or hate her, the woman has clean kids that seem happy and well fed, and she’s cooking dinner every night. I’m impressed.

Bro Joe comes home and is super lovey with his bambinos, then turns into pissy bitch-boy when his wife tries to give him a kiss. He actually says, “Whatever,” and turns away. What a titty baby. He’s pissed, ya unnastan, because Mel hasn’t given it up in – wait for it – three days. I don’t know how that man isn’t on a ventilator and dick dialysis, the poor thing! He tells her that she “should be waking up for me.” Uh…

Because those of us that are baffled by his behavior – I mean, it seems like he’s an adult, he has the trappings of one – he helps us out with a scientific explanation.

When an Italian man is allupato, he has a build up of poison that can eventually end his life if not disposed of inside a woman’s body, the location is irrelevant. Testosterone is not actually a hormone, it is poison. How dare she not let him pump her full of that poison, the selfish bitch. He tells her that it’s just a build up of stress (another word for poison) and he’ll “be dead by 38.” His kids are sitting right there listening. “Ah, she don’t know what I’m tawkin’ about.”

Mel tells the camera, “OMG, he’s such a bitch! What is he on his period?” Sounds like Bro Joe needs to look into a Diva Cup. He then starts blaming her for looking good, and I wonder if I’ve just traveled back in time. Oh, right, Italian Ref. #3. She tells Joe she’s been stressed (and just where does her poison go, Joe? Into your food, that’s where. Eat up your gravy, mi amore.) She fills him in on the Row at the Fashion Show and then does a spot on impression of Teresa shouting.

Jesus Spice does the admirable thing and tells Joe to reconcile with his sister (because all of this foolishness is getting ridicolo.) He asks, “What, I just gotta let go of all the pain and agony?”

A beat, and then, “Yes. You gotta forgive.” Good for her, maybe she’s not as vapid and awful as I originally feared.

Jacqueline heads in to The Craft to almost be killed by Fairuza Balk, but instead sits down for a game of cards with Jocelyn Wildenstein, the Cat-Woman plastic surgery addict. Jocelyn starts a game of Solitaire, but starts making up shit to earn her money.

“Oooh, there’s a four of clubs touching the Joker. You need to make sure Ashley uses protection. There’s a ten of hearts in your Queen of spades. That means that there could be some sort of change in your life. Something that could make something that was one way a different way. Something like… furniture in a room might get moved around? Or someone that was there – or wasn’t – is there – or isn’t. Be ever mindful. Oooh, two to ace, and that book is made.”

Jacqueline, “What was that?”

Catwoman-face, “Um, nothing. So you have a 19 year old daughter, and this five of diamonds means she’s going to want you to buy her stuff. Does that sound right?”

Jacqueline drops a ton of money on the table, amazed at how accurate it all was.

And now I’m the jackass because something that was one way is now another. Caroline and family move the boys into their new place. Jacqueline (ever mindful) brings them a stripper pole so she can be the cool aunt and Caroline kvetches in the corner. One of the boys’ buddies from Fordham shows up, and he’s fabulous. Fabulicious, am I right, fellas? This is Greg, he’s super cute, has a busted up grandma dog in a bedazzled Affliction hoodie (I’m not making that up) and he’s moving in, too. We’ll have a gay old time! (About time!)

Albie and Christuhphuh refer to Greg as their “Mister.” (Oh, I just bet you do, boys.) He’s their “male sister.” Meanwhile, their actual sister Lauren takes a moment for her weekly, “I’M STILL HERE, GUYS,” commentary. They all ignore her and look at the old lady dog and eat a slice.

Back at Jacqueline’s, her folks are visiting. Ashley is up in her room pretending to be a nice big sister to her half-brother back in Texas. Apparently she has four of them? And loves them and stuff? But never gets to see them (except for the times she does) and that’s why she’s such a brat? Grandpa theorizes as much, and Jacqueline takes it all on the chin. Her child is an unappreciative hose-beast because she’s a child of divorce, to which I say OH, HALE NAW. There are plenty of us that can keep a job and not pull nappy weave from a retired stripper’s crepe-y head, I thank you.

But Jacqueline is inconsolable and believes her daughter’s problems stem from her splitting up with Ashley’s dad. Whatever. She’s a brat because she’s been given everything and was never made to appreciate it.

Kathy takes Rich’s idea to heart and goes over to Caroline’s for a confab. She brings a pretty bouquet of flowers and a basket of goodies, she’s a gracious guest and super sweet. I just think Kathy isn’t a mean girl at all, she’s just not a confrontational type. I imagine she gets her feelings hurt easily and just wants to be a pleaser, but what the hell do I know, I’m a Texan on my sofa with a remote.

I want to point out that I hate Caroline’s décor, as much as I like Caroline. If your pillows cover 2/3 of your seat, that’s too many damn throw pillows. I guess there aren’t many Italians in New Jersey that have embraced Danish design. All of the ornate crosses (Italian Ref. #4) should have clued me in to that.

Brass tacks time: Kathy is regretful that the night went down like it did, she just wants Bro Joe and Tre to get along, Caroline should understand that it’s a family thing. She likes family, right? Caroline blinks slowly and says, “To be honest, I don’t care.” She means the actual family issue, but it’s edited to look like she doesn’t care about anything. She’s blunt, she doesn’t mince words.

Caroline goes on to say that while Tre isn’t some “soul sister” of hers, she has been her friend for 15 years, and because she’s just meeting Kathy, she’s sticking with her loyalty to old friends. I can appreciate that. I do think that Kathy was trying to be nice, trying to do what she thought was the right thing, but the communication skills with the Gorgas… It’s like they can’t read a room. Combine that with Ms Blunt As A Brick, and you’re going nowhere.

Back at Casa de Veleno, Mel gets the bedtime bath going. Bro Joe comes in with the boys, and they’re all in matching velour track suits. Molto volgare, si? Its sweet that he’s a part of bath time with the little ones. Aww. So wholesome and adorable. Until he starts in on how he’s ready to pound the cacciatore – emphatic hand gestures – if you catch his meaning. Mel. Mel. He’s ready to bone, are you listening? Pah! HE IS FILLING UP WITH POISON.

She just rolls her eyes and gets the soap out of the baby’s eyes. He goes on and on to the camera about the Gorgas’ sex drive (they’re MEN, manly MEN don’t evah fugheddaboudit.) His 117 year old father – pause for finger kiss – still gets a mighty and powerful erection. Italian Ref. #infinity.

Back at Kathy’s, she’s whipping up a delicious dinner of pork steaks and mushroom risotto, and Rich is in the way, again, trying to help her cook. This is her job, yours is to eat it, marito. He calls the family to a quick meeting, but outside. And that’s where the huh? Mercedes is parked. (It’s a part of their new line of promotional vehicles for Reality Show wives.) Brand new, red ribbon, a dozen roses on the hood waiting for her. Her son holds her hand and walks her to the car. Aww. Her daughter is all emotional and excited for her mom. Aww! Kathy jams the roses in Rich’s hand and dives in. You can’t accuse Rich of not putting out for his princess.

I really like this family, guys, I’m not gonna lie. Cuteness all around (and they seem real. Shocking, for a reality show.)

Caroline, Tre, Jacqueline and (gag) Kim D head out to NYC to go to a fancy schmancy fashion show. Which turns out to be Kim D’s wholesaler and they’re letting the girls in to buy stuff over cost. Whoo hoo? SNORE. Tre tells the wholesaler (who is now out of business, guess you shouldn’t be letting things go at cost, lady) that she, too, was once in the “fashion industry.” Oh really?

“Yeah, I worked for Macy’s(es).”

I injured myself snorting in wine (you don’t watch this show with a glass of wine? Are you a farmer?) at the naiveté. That’s like saying that you’re in the medical profession because you’re the safety coordinator for your office. “I mean, I have to be in charge of the band-aids and aspirins.”

Bless. She also mentions that she’s an “Author.” Can you call yourself an author if your book is just recipes? I guess so. (Haters gonna hate.) Kim D gets in her typical bitchy comment, “She’s writing her li’l recipes!” What the hell are you doing, lady? Cladding old lady butt-lifts in Spanx and leopard minis, that’s what. Tre then starts in on her family bullshit, because it’s been, like, ten minutes since we heard a Gorga complain.

Caroline employs my favorite tactic: “Let me stop you right there.” Most of the time it works for me, but I dazzle people with my wit and a brilliant smile. Caroline follows it up with, “I’ve heard this a thousand times, I don’t wanna hear no more. You need to listen, now.” Good luck with that, lady.

They go back and forth with Caroline trying to cram some (good) advice down Teresa’s throat, but she’s got her craw jammed up with her own bile and anger, nothing else is getting in. Caroline, after rolling her eyes and throwing in the towel, coughs out one last offer: “You should write how you feel in a note and give it to him, you’ll feel better.”

The key wordses were: “you” “how you feel” and “you’ll feel better.” She’ll do it, and Jacqueline will help, what can go wrong?

Jesus Spice is flipping through her ginormous dressing closet, looking through the hundred pairs of white-thread outlined jeans to find just the right outfit. Joe, hearing her ask what she should wear, immediately decides the answer is “nothing” and starts humping her like a dog. HE HAS POISON IN HIM, MEL. Jesus Christ (finger kiss, look to heaven) help a man out! He could DIE.

He tells the camera that his needs are now like – and get ready for panty dropping, ladies, this gets hot – “a giant white zit, when you finally pop it, it shoots across the room.” And let me tell you, guys, nothing makes a lady wetter than the image of a bursting white-head as soon as it’s touched. Then again, he might bust off before you even get it in, which means easier clean up, quicker to bed and Oprah on the DVR. I’m making scale hands here, trying to weigh my options.

Tre heads over to Jacqueline’s the next day with a Gucci bag of stationary. She settles in and reads off her preliminary letter, which happens to be pretty close to perfect. And this was from her. (Hey, she’s an Author, she’s good with wordses.) Jacqueline makes the rookie mistake of saying Tre that she should have mentioned Melissa at some point, and that starts Letter Writing Hell. Tre wants no advice, wants to just sit and bitch about how this is all about her, everything that was done to her, how this is affecting her, and I just want her to shut up already. Jacqueline drinks a whole bottle of chardonnay and lays down, muttering.

It takes all damn day to write this stupid ass note. Jacqueline hops in Teresa’s ‘cedes and they motor over to the Gorgas to deliver the note. Teresa says she’s going to knock on the door and hand deliver the note. What?! UGH. Fortunately no one is home, so she wedges the blue envelope in the front door’ses wrought iron grill about fifty times and they leave.

Melissa and Bro Joe come back from a jog and see the blue envelope (that is in a different position than where Tre left it – THIS IS IMPORTANT, YOU GUYS) and wonder what the hell is up. Bro Joe won’t even read it, he keeps shoving it into his wife’s hand. Meanwhile, I’m wondering where the kids are. Maybe they’ve been swaddled and laid at the back door? You can hear the kids making noise, so they’re in there somewhere.

Mel rolls her eyes at the titty baby she’s married and starts to read it out loud, and I’m amazed because Teresa has terrible penmanship. Teresa wishes she and Joe could just forget the past, move forward, and be in each other’s lives. Simple, to the point. Mel seems to be moved by it, and tells Joe that he should forgive and move forward. Joe sees the light, realizes the poison that was inside of him wasn’t his baby juice, but his hatred for himself, decides to stop being a jerk, go back to school, and volunteer with Doctors Without Borders. It’s the greatest reconciliation in reality show history!

Wah, wah, trombone noise. He’s a big ol’ butthead and refuses to budge. If Teresa will be the person he knew umpteen years ago and come to him, then he’ll consider it. Mel just shakes her head. She tried, but what can you do when this is what you’re working with?

 

Next week! Getting turkeys the old fashioned way! Speaking of turkeys, Ashley tells her cousins that she wants her own place and they laugh at her because she has no money. Albie, you’re my forever love, keep the snaps coming.

(Next episode, right over here!)

 

Please like & share:
  • Regina McWhoreson

    The thing stands out the most for me is the image of a small rat dog turning up every ten seconds in the episode to tightly grip someone’s right calf and bang madly away while howling.

    Dick dialysis – classic!

    • Laura Stone

      Ah, yes, but they’re calling the rat dog “Joe Gorga.” Pretty long-winded for a rat dog.

  • Christy

    A pimple. Dear God in heaven. A PIMPLE.

    • Laura Stone

      I just love his emphatic hand gestures while he talks. He is SO SINCERE, that might be my favorite part. The guys has an amazing worth ethnic, you gotses to admit.

  • Filly

    Thank God this episode is over! Nothing was more disgusting than the visual of a Goombah with blue balls–blech!

    • And he just kept on, and on, and on…..

      DUDE. WE GET IT. (We should have turned it into a drinking game!)

  • StrtMyOrange

    I promised that I would NOT watch any of the Housewives; my TBR shelves have turned in to entire TBR bookcases!!! But you, Stoney, make me feel as though my live is incomplete and bereft all the funny with these hilarious recaps. Guess my girly brain-meat never really needed all that readin’ and intellectualizational exercise. I kinda hate you, just a little.

    • Ahahahaha, this made me laugh so much I snorted. Now who hates who? And come on, you know me: I do the heavy lifting so you can just sit back, drink, and be befuddled.

      • StrtMyOrange

        I don’t really hate you…ok…just a little for your humor & humor writing skills, but that’s more envy than hate. I hate what you do, and do well: make RHWONJ seem like “Must Watch TV” and a {somewhat} insightful, anthropological documentary, not just brain-liquefying pooh. I do have two bookcases that are filled with TBR books!! You’re not helping me in my efforts to tackle those!

        • Oh my god, I am laughing so hard. I LOVE THAT I HAVE SUCKERED YOU! It *is* must see TV! Mostly because who doesn’t love the monkey house? Ha! Much love to you, cookie. And ha, I’ll see you here next week, won’t I?

  • Pingback: Real Housewives of New Jersey season 3 review | Hey, Don't Judge Me()