Real Housewives of New Jersey: Yer A Stah!

Is it me, Gasmii? Am I crazy, or is this version of the franchise freaking boring as all hell? These women better watch their backs or Bravo is going to dump them in favor of The Real Housewives of Bensonhurst. Actually, that doesn’t sound half bad. Bigger hair! Bigger assholes! Short guys in platforms jumping off of bridges, goodbye Juicy Joe!

Actually, I think it’s just a case of the Sophomore slumps. They were new last year but now they’ve had a chance to view themselves and their families in the public eye and have adjusted what they allow us to see accordingly. Well, I don’t like it!

This show used to be spontaneous, almost as much so as Atlanta. Now when I watch it I’ve got one hand smacking myself in the face to stay awake, and the other on the phone to dial New Jersey’s child protective services.

To top it all off, there’s hardly any scenes with my favorite blue eyed witch, Dina. She’s the main reason I watch this show. That, and fighting off the ennui as I wait for Christopher Manzo to start cracking corny jokes again. Fucking A, people! Step up your game before Miss Andy throws you off his wine soaked couch for good!

Sheesh. Let’s try to make this travesty remotely interesting, shall we?

When I saw the opening shot of the exterior of Casa Sicilian Bitch, I asked myself, “How in the heck is Danielle paying for that place, did she find a pot of gold at the end of the blow job rainbow or something?” Then up walks a realtor to give the house the once over before showing it. Aha! Time to sell and downsize.

They walk around the rooms in their bare feet and I’m hoping Ms. ReMax has some thick calouses cuz you never know when an old crack pipe is going to come rolling out of one of Danielle’s cupboards, not to mention how slick the floors must be from all the greaseballs she entertains, or as my cousin says “greezebawlz.”

The McMansion is in a pretty serious state of disrepair. There are water stains on the ceiling

(good God, that’s some powerful ejaculate!),

crown moldings that hang freely and exposed nails on the wall. Even the baseboards are loose from where she knocked into them during vigorous oral sex and there are smudges on the wall from the John’s bad aim with the money shot.

She’s really proud of her hideously color schemed pooper and it’s proliferation of clutter. I think I spotted some toiletries from the Reagan administration and an overworked bidet panting for it’s life in the corner. Who combines peach and pale green with a dark aqua bathtub?

“I got a deal on the decorating. I got friends in the motel business in Vegas.”

They sit down to talk numbers and Danielle tells the realtor that her ex hasn’t been keeping up with the payments. They agree to list the house at $1.495 mil, down from the $2 mil it was originally worth. She’ll be lucky to get an offer barely over a million if you ask me, but you know Danielle. She’s a teenie bit out of touch with reality.

And A LOT needy. She complains that she has to split the profits with the ex 50/50 but that sounds pretty standard to me. Then she complains that she can’t talk to him and quickly accepts the realtor’s offer to speak to him for her, eliciting Danielle to reply that she can’t move on with her life until the house is sold, and that she’s putting the whole situation in her hands.

“Not to be dramatic or anything, BUT MY ENTIRE LIFE DEPENDS ON YOU.”

I bet that gal ran back to her car cursing the day she answered Danielle’s call, and high tailed it to the border. I hope she’s good at screening calls because you just know that Madam Staub is going to be up her ass 24/7.

Speaking of Madam, doesn’t she look like that puppet? And that nose, what is wrong with it? If you look closely at her daughter Christine, you can see that she has a perky little version of the same one, only hers doesn’t look like it got reconstructed after a two decade coke binge. Talk about wrecking your looks with drugs. They should hang her picture up on the model wall at Christine’s agency as a warning.

I don’t know if things have changed any, but man, there were some scary drug vultures circling the young girls when I was in the biz. I was lucky. I didn’t start until I was out of my teens. I didn’t need protection. Who do these girls have? Their crazy mothers? Someone needs to create an organisation to fill the gap, a union watchdog group for the underaged. I’m kind of shocked that one doesn’t exist already.

I’m sure little Gia will be fine since her mom is such a hands-on nannyless wonder. Only problem is that she shops so freaking much that she’s late to everything, including her lunch at a cute little ristorante with Jaqueline and Caroline.

Ree-stoh-rahn-tay. Whenever I say that word I immediately think of Sophia Loren in Grumpier Old Men. So gorgeous, such class. Unlike our neanderthal cavewoman. She rushes to her seat, all late and flustered, and immediately starts in with how tired she is from all of Juicy Schmoe’s unwanted sexual advances. Fingers in ears and “LA LA LA LA,” because I have zero interest in the sex life of pre-historic Hobbit people.

Maybe he’s trying to fuck some brains into you.

Maybe he fucks you so much to keep you home more and not out spending all his money on girly chintz and foofy froufrou that your dwarf children are just going to ruin with all their drool. Seriously, evolution skipped a beat with them and I’m not sure that little -insert name ending in ‘a’ here- has learned that all she has to do is swallow the saliva instead of letting it roo-in the front of her $500 garanimal blouse.

And I feel comfortable with saying those things because of the crap that comes out of her and Caroline’s mouths about Danielle’s girls. Maybe this was my way of getting in a bit of a jab of my own, since Christine and Jillian weren’t there to defend themselves.

Talk turned inevitably to Danielle and after they gang up on Jaqueline for being friendly with ‘Garbage,’ Caroline says that Christine and Jillian have no spark or innocence in their eyes, trashing Danielle’s kids on national TV! NOT COOL. Do I even need to say that?

Who in their right mind says that someone’s children are dead in the eyes? What a bitch. Teresa is right there with her and says that they’ve been exposed to too much and Caroline says that that is why they are so socially awkward. Gee, you think that you are helping them any? Has it been that long since YOU were a teen? Who isn’t socially awkward as a teenager? Does Caroline have her head so far up her own pristine ass that she has forgotten what 95% of the population goes through at their age? Vomit. That’s all I can say. VOMIT. And maybe they aren’t awkward around you for social reasons, maybe

THEY CAN’T STAND YOU.

Jaqueline lamely sticks up for them by calling those shitty comments hurtful, and that they crossed the line. If they’ll say this kind of stuff on camera, what on earth are they saying behind closed doors? It boggles the mind.

Teresa is so desperate to feel like she’s better than someone that she brings up The Book again and all the coke, guns and ransom stories that are so old by now that even little Nicholas is probably rolling his eyes, and then Jaqueline tries to defend Danielle again by saying that it was a long time ago.

Here comes pitbull Manzo and her whole, “Excuse me, young lady,” argument about how awful what she did was and she doesn’t deserve any understanding or kindness whatsoever. Ye Gads, woman, are you living in a cave with Teresa too? I would hate to have to live up to her black and white levels of morality. Yes, Danielle is a nutjob that did horrible things. Yes, she is supremely annoying and a slut. Sadly, you aren’t making yourself look much better by trashing her while she’s down.

Caroline tells Jaqueline that if she continues to hang around garbage, she’ll start to stink, and then tells her that the only reason that Danielle hangs out with her is because she’s the weakest Manzo/Laurita link and that makes her any easy target for Big Bad Danielle to get to their family.

AND DO WHAT? The only power people have over you is the power that you give them. Last I checked we didn’t live in a slave culture and isn’t that what all those law enforcement officials you know are for? I get such a sinister vibe from her and Teresa. Ganging up on a clearly unstable broke single mother is pretty dreadful, I don’t care what your excuse is.

And Caroline’s whole “She’ll never win,” accompanied by an unneccessarily harsh stare at Jaqueline went right over the edge into ominous absurdity. I know it’s a waste of fine ree-stoh-rahn-tay cuisine but somebody break the tension with a freaking food fight or something.

Even Topo Gigio finds this shit to be over the top.

We come back from commercials and, hello! An actual food fight! How funny is that? Sadly, the only thing interesting about it is the fact that they use good ham for sandwiches and cheap ham for their ‘Ham Games,’ and then there’s Christopher’s shirt:

Yet they sure can shit all over people, just ask your mom.

Later on they cook up some steaks for dinner, and oh my goodness. I have the same cast iron stovetop grill that I use all the ti………………………zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, what? Oh yeah.

Look who doesn’t recycle. HOW DARE YOU, AND IN FRONT OF MY FAMILY!

The conversation about star crossed lovers Vito and Lauren is just as fascinating as you might think. Did Albie say that Vito needed a ‘dating Lauren’ permission slip from him? Did Lauren sneak around with Vito for months, keeping their forbidden canoodling on the down low? Will Caroline take sides in this modern day fairy tale, thereby further complicating the Romeo and Juliet of our times?

If you care and you’re still awake, you need to get out more.

Oh look, wine!

I’d be guzzling that shit if I were you, sister.

More Dina, please! Can this show be JUST about her? I want to follow her to her coven meetings and eat gourmet chocolates while she brushes her kitty’s non-existent fur. I want to see her mix potions for Teresa’s hairline and dispense lazy wry common sense whimsy followed by her throaty little cackle. She needs a good foil, though. I nominate that gay brother of hers from last season. Or me. I’m available, and I grow lots of herbs.

Nope, instead we’re off to Jaqueline’s to see how Ashley’s doing with that whole ‘growing up’ thing. Not so well, it seems. She’s come by for a visit and brought her laundry with her. I hope she doesn’t expect her mother to do it. She has a newborn to take care of, for goodness sakes! Ashley may be a big baby but the real one takes precedence, I would think.

“If I start drooling like Teresa’s kids will you do it?”

They go over the same bs about how Ashley isn’t ready for the mean streets of Franklin Lakes all by her lonesome, and all I have to say is, cut the apron strings and let her fail! What’s the worst that could happen, you might end up spending the day at an abortion clinic or in traffic court? As long as she doesn’t hit anyone when she gets that inevitable DUI, let her make some mistakes. It’s how you learn.

Or you could just keep nagging her. That seems to working, right?

It’s like what Crackie said about Slurry’s kids in the O.C. version of this show. You need to start with discipline when they get out of diapers, not 16 years later. The first years are critical and doing what’s right early saves years of hassle later on. Or so I hear. I’m childless. I just swat the little stinkers with my purse when they get too close to me.

18 year old Ashley is hitting the nightclubs that she’s too young to be patronising as well. She’s got older friends, a 23 year old boyfriend and she’s drinking. Great. She has no job, she’s not in school and she’s partying every day? What is she, a Lohan?

She says that they always use a designated driver on these charming excursions, clearly lying through her teeth. No wonder Jaqueline keeps hounding her. She’s the worst liar in the history of teenage mendacity, and that’s a scary thought.

Her mom tells her that being on the road at 3 a.m. increases your chances of running into other ‘designated drivers’ and she gets up and walks away. Oh, geez. Never turn your back on your Italian mother during a lecture. I’m surprised that all Ashley got was a loud impassioned speech about how her mother worries about her. I would have gotten a hairbrush up my backturned backside and a driver’s license torn up in my face.

Oh, but it’s okay. Ashley said she was just checking her cell phone. She was listening the whole time, really! Funny. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of person that can do two things at the same time, unless it’s involuntary like breathing and blinking.

But I’m not even sure about that. Has it ever been documented?

This scene sucks. It’s worse than those MADD PSAs they used to make us watch in Driver’s Ed. It comes complete with Ashley yelling back and then her mother telling her to leave and take her dirty laundry with her. Good. See ya. Can we hang out with Grandma Wrinkles now, pretty please?

Nope again. It’s back to Casa Joker face where she’s hanging out by the pool with her ghoulish cipher children. I’m joking of course (eff you, Godbother Caroline), and I feel happy for Christine when Danielle tells her that IMG wants to represent her. It’s a big deal and the young Christie Brinkley/Mariel Hemingway look-alike explains how she got scouted. She’s awkward, sure, and she’s trying to be matter of fact about it but she’s clearly delighted.

Danielle is excited too, for all the experiences THEY BOTH will share. Stage mom alert, stage mom alert! She asks Christine if she’s going to remember her dear old mum when she makes it big, and then tells Jillian that she’s next. Mama needs a new big house for herself. This one’s already trashed, time to move on to the next future fixer upper.

I hope she gets higher ceilings.

Finally, it’s Dina time! We aren’t tagging along to any of her mysterious coven meetings, or any of her nude forest romps with fairy sorcerors smearing unguents all over each other under the light of the full moon. Instead we’re off to buy baby clothes at one of those high end boutiques that sell binkies that cost more than Danielle’s monthly coke bill.

She’s meeting Jaqueline there to find something for Teresa’s latest suckling wildebeast, and they gravitate towards the girly stuff on instinct. Jaqueline wistfully says that all the pink finery reminds her of when Ashley was a baby and had a good excuse for being bland and lacking ambition, and she tells Dina that she moved out.

You see, Ashley wants to be independent like all her friends. They’re all off in college EARNING the right to party on the weekends while their mommy does their laundry, not watching cartoons all day and driving to clubs in a vehicle bought and paid for by dear old step-dad.

The weakest link tells Dina that Ashley won’t listen to any advice, and what Dina says in reply is one of the reasons why I love her. She says, “Have you ever tried knocking the shit out of her?” and the sound you hear next is the rest of America clapping.

“Yeah, Jaqueline. Just give the girl a bea-in. Caroline can look on disapprovingly and then we’ll all judge you later, you weakest link, you. Oh look, a ladybug!”

She tells Jackie that she didn’t act up when she was a kid because she didn’t want to disappoint her parents and she didn’t want to endure a “bea-in,” as she puts it. Jackie says that she created this monster and I agree, now she must destroy it!

Or let her grow up to be an ineffectual loser knocked up at 19. Whatever comes first!

At least she doesn’t have a mother filling her head with dreams that probably won’t come true, like Teresa. She’s at a casting for little Gia to walk in a show during fashion week. I got exceedingly creeped out by Teresa interviewing that Gia was so excited about it and she’s “so happy for her, love you, Gia. Muah,” in a weird monotone more properly suited for a teleprompter.

Or zombie sex with dwarf Archie Bunkers.

Everything she does feels like she has an axe to grind. Every time she speaks it’s either an insult to Danielle or a hollow endorsement of something in her family life. I get a more than passing feeling that this woman is not a happy camper. She wants us to think she is, but she ain’t.

Something’s rah-in in the spaghetti sauce.

I’m even more tremendously skeeved by the walk Gia does for the casting agent. It’s one part Miley Cyrus, two parts Naomi Campbell and three parts pageant fakery. I’ve worked with plenty of kids and none of them acted like that. The client wanted cute and natural innocence, not a 30 year old in an 8 year old’s body.

What Gia does have going for her are stunning blue eyes and a good sense of self possession. She’s going to need it when she walks the catwalk in front of hundreds of people, even if she’s already been on stage in front of the same amount when she was in pageants.

I’m sorry, but she’s just not model material to me. I hate to snark on her looks but when she opens her mouth to speak, she sounds like those midgets on the Little Rascals that tried to con people by posing as babies in buggies. She’s a little kid. I cringe when I think about how hard it’s going to be when some ruthless fashion type criticises her looks and she overhears it. It’s going to happen. It’s just a matter of time.

Meanwhile, Chrisine is at her first photo shoot with HER stage mommy and it’s for the cover of Daily Front Row magazine. I never heard of it until I saw this episode but what does that matter when her photos are being taken by Gilles Bensimon, Mr. Stupendous Elle Magazine himself!

“Zees ees bee-oo-tee-ful. Can yoo doo for me dee, how yoo say? Smomp?”

How odd. Here he is appearing in the Real Housewives of New Jersey, and he’s never once shown up on the NYC show where his ex-wife is busy smomping away in her second season. Huh? Why would that be? It isn’t like he’s camera shy, and he doesn’t seem to mind his children being on TV now and then. Do you think it might just be a big old FUCK YOU to old social retard, Leather? No, no way!

You can tell that Christine is a little nervous but she looks gorgeous and does fantastically well for a first photo shoot. The only real sign of any butterflies was the tightness of her mouth in some shots, but that’s normal, even for a pro.

Gilles has one of those cameras with a ring light built in. They are designed like that to deliver the most flattering effects on the skin of your face, evening out shadows and skin tones. She doesn’t really need it. Danielle on the other hand….

She’s giggling in the background like a schoolgirl, taking pictures of her own and doing inappropriate things like calling her daughter “smoking hot.” Cringe! Gilles is extremely nice to her and even takes a photograph of the two of them together, a very kind gesture even though Danielle looks like an over the hill drag queen next to her perfect daughter. At least she’s loving that too, saying that she was perfectly comfortable modeling again. I’m happy for you, fruitcake.

And from the looks of your daughter, I might be the only one.

I feel more disaster looming as Danielle swears that she’s going to be a part of everything Christine does in the industry. Here’s hoping that that includes blowing more big photographers for prestige jobs so her innocent daughter doesn’t have to. It’s the least she could do after exposing her to that loser pig she dated last season.

By the way, can we just skip over the whole manufactured snoozefest of Vito and Lauren, and Lauren and Albie and Albie and Vito? It’s SO not interesting and SO better suited for a Dr. Phil show. I’d rather watch grass grow or a documentary on the mating habits of three toed sloths.

Here it is in a nutshell: Albie is afraid of what will happen to everyone in the aftermath of a break-up. Vito promises to be good to Lauren and not shove any PDA in any of the Manzo clan’s faces. Caroline makes a chauvinist comment to Lauren about not worrying about what the men are talking about (HER!) in the next room. Gee, which side is mama Manzo on?

No one cares.

Back to the fabulous world of modeldom and it’s fantasyland of random superlatives and exploitation of minors! Danielle is going on and on about how incalculably phenomenal Christine’s agent at IMG is. Ignore her. She’s like Leather with the kooky praise and she probably says the same shit when her plumber does a good job on her reefer roach clogged bidet.

The agent’s name is Ivan Bart and they’re meeting at his Manhattan office so he can show them the cover that Christine shot earlier. Christine loves it but says it’s weird to see herself like that. Of course it is. It’s a thrill and I hope she makes it big and doesn’t get too jaded or abused by the fashion predators.

Danielle starts rattling off the name of every designer who ever passed the damn thing on a newsstand and I want to tell her to shut it. It’s not Vogue, for chrissikes, it’s a respectable start and I’m thrilled for her but you look like a fool when you blow things out of proportion like that.

Young Christine sits there with her oily teenage skin and her desperate desire to escape her life and when Ivan says that she may decide that this isn’t the job for her someday, she immediately sets him straight. She wants it. She wants it BAD. I’d like to see anyone try and stop her.

I’d also like to see someone get her some freaking Clearasil already.

She’s going to walk in fashion week, uh oh, that’s a tough one. Unless you are used to performing, it is hella scary. I’ve stood next to quivering girls backstage more often than not, and even seen women in their 20s puking into garment bags. You could fall, you could trip, and you very well could get laughed at. The good news is that they pay rather well and if you do enough of them, you can take a nice four star holiday to recover from the stress. Don’t laugh. I’m actually not joking. It is absolute agony for some models.

Ivan asks Danielle if she is prepared to do things like travel or go to Milan to get those all important tear sheets and she’s as rabid as her daughter to do whatever it takes. She’s gushing and dramatic and scary as hell. There’s one weird moment, and it could just be the editing, but Christine darts her eyes from Ivan to her mother and back again as if to say, “No, please, NO. Don’t let her go with me!”

must. run. away.

please. help. me. Miss Andy? anyone?

It felt like those scenes in the movies where someone is being held against their will and they’re trying to give the gas station cashier a message with their expression. This girl needs a trustworthy mentor and a good emancipation lawyer STAT. She’s one humiliation away from running into the arms of a pedophile guido with promises of freedom in one hand and heroin in the other.

Our vignette this week is a stellar one. If you female genetalia makes you squeamish, skip this part. I don’t want to make any of you ill.

The girls are hanging out together knitting prayer shawls to sell at St. Bernadette’s next church social and taking donations to help save Danielle’s home, the lovely sweethearts! Yeah, right. They’re talking about Teresa’s cootchie.

She reminds me of myself. WHEN I WAS NINETEEN. That’s the last time I sat around talking with my friends about my newly appreciated lady parts. Every now and then if something changes in my genital landscape, I have two or three friends I can talk to. Teresa prefers an audience. I swear, if she didn’t have sex to talk about, she’d be mute.

Her cootchie is swollen from her pneumatic pre-natal condition, and that leads to having what these women refer to as a “puffy chuckie.” Do not feel badly if that phrase conjured up visions of a certain unforgiveable rapper crossed with a demented doll. Don’t even feel bad if you pictured yourself popping it for her like bubble pack, as many of us do by jumping on it, or letting the dogs go apeshit on the really big sheets that come with new TVs. You are not alone. It’s where my demented mind went.

Nicholas’s little face says it all and he starts wailing. Nice, Teresa.

Don’t turn other people’s kids gay too!

I wish I found her cutesy or amusing but I don’t. I don’t apologise for it, anymore than she apologises for having a room temperature IQ and a homophobic husband. I find it very telling that she flipped a table over some condescending words while Dina can be cordial even after what Danielle supposedly did to her. I don’t know. I guess I have a pet peeve when it comes to self rightous bigots. Call me crazy!

So….. we are all very happy for Christine and her first cover. A party is in order, for sure. Danielle agrees, and has a little chat with her daughters about it. She tells them that she wants to have a luncheon to celebrate and asks which of the women she should invite.

“Not Caroline,” Christine blurts out, no doubt still afraid of her mother’s unhealthy obsession with her. Both girls try to talk her out of inviting any of the women since all they’ll do is talk shit about her beforehand. I was starting to get worried about Danielle putting Christine in awkward circumstances when Jillian asks which of her big sister’s friends are invited and none are. Why? Because not even Christine is invited!

That’s right, Danielle is having this party for herself and her mother’s pride. She is going to invite some of her super close intimate friends like the lady that works at the bakery counter and her Verizon representative. I’m not even lying.

Later on she calls Dina to invite her, and witchy blue eyes gives her a wishy washy response about getting back to her. Jaqueline flat out tells her no, using her husband’s displeasure with her as the reason. Danielle is disappointed, especially after she gloated like a real pro. I was seriously icked out.

I caught myself making one of those puckery lemon sucking faces while listening to Danielle’s voice as it dripped with syrupy lethargical triumph. It’s gotta suck to finally have something to brag about and not have anyone panting with envy and admiration. I don’t know what she expected. This is pretty much par for the course with these chicks. If she’s dying for someone to seethe with jealousy over her daughter’s achievements, she should have invited some of Christine’s high school friends, like everybody else would.

I am so tired of being made to feel uncomfortable by these women but it isn’t over yet. We head over to the Cro-Magnon Chateau where Teresa and Juicy are cuh-in dinnah for their grumpy, dopey and sleepy dwarf daughters.

Freakin’ A. I’ll take a rah-in apple over livin’ wid dis fam-ly any day.

Gia got the runway gig, yay for her! Teresa tells Juicy ‘Mo and he slap chops his onions as she tries to explain to him what fashion week is. He could give a flying fuck and he doesn’t care who knows it. He’s a pig, Gasmii. An oinking, stocky, low of undercarriage piece of jerky. When he runs across the lawn on all fours, does his belly skim the blades of grass?

The only difference between him and that pork chop you ate last night, is that the chop was actually juicy.

She tells Gia that Bravo pulled some strings and got her the job, and the little Cyrus-in-training shrieks at the top of her lungs. Gee, I wonder why her ‘Mo papa is always so chipper around the house? I hope he did the right thing and sent some nice flowers to Miss Andy for being such a big help with his eldest’s career. It’s the right thing to do, you know. Doesn’t he want them to continue getting the hell out of the house so he can have his guy ‘friends’ over.

The day of the luncheon arrives and Danielle sweeps down the back stairs to the restaurant patio with a bunch of post-menopausal parrot women in tow. The weather is perfect and Danielle makes her grand entrance into the glorious son by saying that the angels must love her, and God too!

Well, that’s at least two people…

There’s a damn big spread laid out, so once again, thanks Miss Andy! Danielle says that she invited as many friends as she could, especially the delightfully loyal Kim! I don’t need to remind you of the heinous way she drunkenly informed everyone at the Sheriff benefit that she barely knows the woman. She truly is, as Caroline would say, a piece of ‘gah-bidge.’

Adding insult to injury, Dina interviews that Danielle had to fill the seats somehow, so she invited random people that she met at the check-out line at the local Stop & Shop. Okay, maybe she did. What’s she supposed to do? She’s been blackballed by you all! I’m happy that she didn’t have to resort to holding court with a host of her chihuahua’s friends from the dog park.

They’d be cuter though.

They all sit down with Danielle at the head of the table and she whips out the cover to spontaneously staged “Ooooos,” and “Ahhhhhhs,” and enthusiastic applause. It’s so weird. She shows off the picture inside the magazine of herself posing with her daughter, and it’s so beyond odd that I almost have no words.

“So this is the last picture they took of me before they let me wear this incredibly chic white jacket that was custom made, might I add, for moi. The sleeves were a little weird, but once you get used to the pain it’s just like giving yourself a big hug!”

She makes a grand toast to all of their children and when no one rushes to congratulate her she says “Yay, me.”

“I got through a whole meal and nodody flipped any tables on me!”

And then things get really weird. There’s an eerie quality to this gathering. I don’t hear any chit chat and when Danielle points out empty chairs that were reserved for Dina and Jaqueline, we’re back in Danielle’s delusional landscape where up is down and reality is of no importance.

Hey, who invited Teresa’s soul?

She acts like they stood her up but it’s not true! She needn’t fabricate circumstances to look like a victim. The fact that she has to invite perfect strangers to her celebration is bad enough, don’t blame it on people that never promised to RSVP. She’s just as guilty of the whole taking sides thing as Caroline. The only difference is that Mama Manzo can actually blackball people, and in her position it makes her a bully.

I’m getting the same vibe that I got when she was speaking to the priest last week. Why is she telling women that she barely knows her personal business? They look uncomfortable, to say the least. 2 Faced Kim tells her to quit acting like she’s on a playground with all the gossip and then tells her to just do her own thing and not worry about anything else. Huh?

Nice advice, kettle.

She promptly ignores her and accuses the woman sitting next to her of being in Caroline’s pocket. It’s a faux dramatic moment and the woman explains that her son knows Christopher but she doesn’t know Caroline from Adam. She announces,” You’re my friend,” to Danielle to more phony yays and we end this episode with Danielle announcing that she has close boundaries. From her gesture I’m guessing that those boundaries start right about where a man’s belt buckle might comfortably hit her on the chin as he drops trou.

“Just consider my mouth your own personal gah-bidge disposal.”

Oh boy. THAT was insane. I wonder if she’s this bad when cameras aren’t on her? I hope not. I hope she’s just lamely acting like a drama queen, but I’m almost certain she’s not. I think that her reality is so terrible that she has created a fantastical alternate universe where she is a victim valiantly fighting the evil Caroline and her devious foreheadless minion. She’s pretty painfull to watch. Can you imagine her when she was coked out of her mind? I shudder to think!

Join me next time when ‘Mo is mean to Gia Cyrus, Christine sinks or swims on the catwalk and the Danielle niceties go right out the window. Say it isn’t so!

Love and Kisses,

Twunty McSlore