Real Housewives of NYC: D’OH!

Dear Gasmi,

This week Bravo takes a step toward becoming a fabulous new kind of QVC channel.

Only $29.99 if you call in the next ten minutes, and we’ll throw the vase in for free.

I’m definitely recommending lots of alcohol for this episode. It’s a lot more fun to watch people behaving badly, when your drunk…so chugalug…

We start this week with a “do over” because this is “reality” TV and in real life you always get a “do over”. Especially when you act like an ass in public and it’s caught on camera and then broadcast on national TV. I want to know who told Leather that she looked like an ass at the Creaky Joints charity meeting. Or maybe she just overheard some PA’s laughing about it. Either way, she must have gone straight to Andy Cohen and threatened to beat him up if he didn’t give her a chance to redeem herself. I can’t really blame Andy. I’d probably be intimidated by a six foot, psycho meth addict, with a tendency toward assault and battery.

JZ, Allie, Christina and Leather are all assembled in the same meeting room as last time. And it’s looking like Leather bribed the hell out of these woman by promising all sorts of fancy/expensive auction items. Christina and JZ are basically repeating the lines that have been giving to them about how great, wonderful, generous, and modest Leather is. Puh-lease! It’s a damn good thing these women are on non-scripted TV because their acting sucks. I’m wondering if Leather actually coached them on what to say before the cameras started rolling. Still all that staged verbiage around Leather’s great donations is making somebody happy.

Will you say that part about me being a good person again?

Poor Leather. It must be hard to function with the social development of a four year old.

Leather takes a moment to put on her serious and sincere face before explaining that she’s more of an ‘anonymous behind the scenes mover and shaker’ than a ‘put her name on the invite’ kind of girl. After all, that kind of name recognition is so tacky to someone who’s all about self-effacing modesty. Of course, agreeing to be on a reality show kind of puts a strain on that modest, self-effacing, and anonymous lifestyle, but it’s easy to overlook that contradiction when your self awareness is limited to your meth cravings. And, who knows, maybe someday Leather will get clean and sober and actually make good on those items she promised for the auction. After all the event was back in October and according to Lady B’s blog, six months later Leather still hasn’t delivered on them, so at this point what difference is a couple more years and a few appearances with Dr. Drew going to make?

Never one to let an opportunity slip by, Crazy Eyes comes charging in to jump on the tail end of Leather’s do-over.

Who let you in here?

She babbles for a minute about some possible sponsors, crosses herself, and launches into another set of pre-rehearsed lines hawking her own line of skin cream. Seriously, do these woman ever say anything that’s spontaneous anymore? With Bethenny, Lulu and Silex all marketing books, JZ marketing Zarin Fabrics, and Crazy Eyes marketing whatever random product her voices choose for the week, I’m thinking that the commercial breaks are kind of overkill.

Well, one thing is clear, JZ is willing to suck up a lot to make this charity work. Leather wants a do over, with her own script? Fine. Crazy Eyes wants to market her skin cream and jewelry? Fine. After all, as JZ tells us, the “idea-errr” is to make the event happen seamlessly. LOL. Conversations would be so much more fun if everybody grew up in either Long Island or Jersey City.

Crazy Eyes takes a moment to ask JZ about the tennis match and holds her breath in hopes that JZ will lose her sh*t. I love it when Crazy Eyes gets excited and earns her name. Sadly, this is totally a non-event, because JZ is all like ‘luv you, looking forward to it’. And then she throws in an aside about Bethenny going out with Madonna that night, which, after the whole Lady B calling Leather “Madonna” thing, is kind of unfortunate. Leather is looking mortified, but I can’t tell if that’s because she’s remembering that meeting or because Lady B is hanging out with someone who’s a real celebrity.

What if she says something bad about me to Madonna? Maybe I should interview Madonna. Then she could be my new bestie and I could take people to her concerts.

Lady B and Alex are meeting for drinks to discuss the deets for Bethenny’s new Skinny Girl’s cocktail logo. I’m thinking that Alex should be working on a logo for Betty Crocker in exchange for some food. Seriously, this woman is getting skinnier each episode. Maybe Simon should stop buying clothes and use the money to feed his wife before she starts passing out all over the place. Lady B is feeling bad that Alex has been pretty much ostracized by the other hausenfrau. Seriously, naked S&M pictures can play havoc with your social life. Or maybe Bethenny just feels really bad that she’s been exiled to Brooklyn where they apparently have a serious food shortage.

Bethenny doesn’t really judge Alex for what she does to get ahead. Well at least she doesn’t judge her as harshly as the other hausenfrau. After all a girls got to do what a girls got to do, and as long as Alex agrees to leave Simon in Brooklyn Lady B is even willing to let Alex into Manhattan. With Alex helping out with Bethenny’s Betty Boop logo issues, Bethenny’s even feeling some remorse for all those fabulous one liners she’s delivered at Silex’ expense.

That whole thing about climbing through an air conditioner vent to get into a party, I’ll never mention it.

But before we can get too caught up in Lady B’s guilt, we’re off to Brooklyn. Surprisingly, we’re not going to visit Silex, we’re going to the Boys and Girls Club with Countess Lulu. I hope the Countess brought her passport and a map cuz she’s a long way from her world. Holy crap! The Countess is carrying her own bags! This must be her idea of what it’s like to bond with the lower classes. Lulu tells us that she’s coming to spend the day hanging out with the Smart Girls, a group aimed at building self-esteem and confidence in young woman. Awesome. Nothing like a title spewing, class conscious, d-list aristocrat to make young girls feel special. Maybe she’s going to recruit them to be her ladies in waiting.

Lulu starts out by introducing herself as Luanne De Lesseps with nary a title in sight. Wow. I’m impressed. That rubber band therapy must be working. I wonder how many snaps to the wrist it took to overcome that nasty compulsion to repeat her title every few minutes. The girls and Lulu get right down to the important business of confidence raising by writing down three things that they like about themselves. The girls are pretty cute, Lulu on the other hand, not so much. She’s playing kind of fast and loose with the words ‘likeable’ and ‘funny’. I’m thinking more along the lines of ‘intensly irritating’ and ‘painfully affected’.

Oh crap, Lulu needs another rubber band. Hers must have broke. She’s got that glazed look in her eyes and she’s asking the girls if they know what a Countess is. Ten heads shake “no” in unison and settle back to listen to the crazy woman ramble on. “I’m a Countess. My husband blah blah Suez Canal blah blah started Panama Canal blah blah. I’m an American Indian blah blah.”

I’m like Pocohontas. You know Pocohontas right? She starred in a Disney movie.

You’re sure dressed nice for a crazy lady.

In a moment of nostalgia for the lost days of her youth, when she picked up a middle-aged aristocrat on the ski slopes and boinked him until he proposed, Lulu gives the girls some heart felt advice: try anything because you never know where it’s going to lead. I’m pretty sure that the drug dealers in our local high school are giving out the same advice. These girls’ mothers are going to be ecstatic. “Hey Mom, a crazy white lady told me to try anything.”

Oh, well. Moving on. It’s time to find out about the young ladies’ goals and aspirations. The first girl to speak up offers that she wants to grow up to be a baby sitter. Awwwww. The Countess takes a moment to support the young woman in her desire to work with children and talks about a variety of career paths that she could take. Yeah, right! Not our Count-ass. Our Count-ass laughs in her face. Way to be supportive and nurturing, Lulu. Maybe you should take a couple more swigs out of your nippy bottle and get really drunk.

Please God, make her disappear.

The next child to offer herself up for a little aristocratic abuse is an adorable chubby girl who announces her desire to be a model. The Count-ass belches, sneaks another sip, and reflects sourly on her own catalog career before considering how to best squelch this young woman’s self-esteem. Planting the seeds for a severe eating disorder should do it. Seriously, what kind of woman tells a young girl, at a confidence building session, that not only does she have a pretty face and plenty of time to grow, but losing all that weight will be the easy part.

Nothing like seeing self-esteem and confidence crushed in a single session.

I bet she stuck a ‘kick me’ sign on Lulu’s back

Leaving Brooklyn, we fly to the Upper East Side to have the great reveal of JZ’s apartment. And OMFG will somebody please get Brad a stylist. Unless you’re auditioning for the role of Charlie Brown, wide horizontal stripes on a v-neck cardigan just aren’t the way to go. We’re submitted to a series of before and after shots accompanied by the cheesiest elevator music. Evah! Seriously? Editors this is the best you could do?

JZ’s apartment looks like Andy Warhol wandered into an early twentieth century hotel and dropped off some end tables in the shape of letters that spell “POP”. JZ loves the hotel, but hates the end tables. I don’t blame her. I don’t like them either.

Can Brad’s gay card be revoked for having terrible taste?

Meanwhile, Lady B is holed up in her apartment staring over her assistant’s shoulder at the computer screen and stressing out. To give her credit, her assistant, Molly, totally has that soothing voice and demeanor used for toddlers and psychiatric patients. Out of the blue an e-vite to join the Simon Van Kempen fan club pops up on the screen. How cool is that? Simon’s great aunt must have been busy organizing the other women in her nursing home. Molly follows the link back to the Van Kempen website and immediately gives her best imitation of a blowfish. Oops, that’s her imitation of Simon. Boyfriend can sure pucker up.

Totally forgetting that whole thing about not being mean to Silex, Lady B is busy reading off little tidbits of Silex’s so called life. “Try never to be out”? No kidding, I’ve rarely seen anybody work as hard and as insistently as Simon at staying in the closet. Oh they mean try not to go out more than two nights in a row. Well, it’s got to be hard to balance their fabulous social life with parenthood.

Back at JZ’s apartment, because we haven’t seen enough if it yet. Bethenny is doing a walk through and tells us that Brad marked his territory all over, which is a polite way of saying that Brad could use some creative depends to curb his flow of inspiration.

Maybe it would help to have him neutered?

JZ’s tennis ace in the hole for her match with Mario/Ramona calls and it’s bad news. I’m telling you, some days you just can’t get a break. Not only is JZ stuck living in Brad’s blue/green acid trip, but her stud player has blown out his back and is stuck in bed. JZ is crushed, because how else is she going to kick the serial killer’s tuchus. Lady B leans back and gives an evil chuckle. She’s got an idea. Bobby? JZ asks doubtfully. I can’t blame her. I’d be worried sick that Bobby would have a stroke. No, not Bobby. Simon. After all, Simon can at least be counted on to wear a cute pink spandex outfit, and you know he’d quit his job, and probably divorce his wife, for more camera time. I think it’s safe to say that Bethenny’s resolution to be nicer about Silex has officially gone the way of pet rocks and bell bottoms. Pictures of Crazy Eyes drooling and twitching flash through JZ’s mind and she smiles happily.

We’d be the first housewives to give someone a nervous breakdown.

Not one to waste time, Lady B pulls out her cell phone and speed dials Simon. In one of the most staged moments ever, Simon who’s sitting expectantly by his phone answers with a casual, “Hey, Jill.” Oops. I guess some PA gave him the wrong info. No it’s Bethenny. Simon admits to having played tennis with the kids, or as a kid. No matter, as long as it involves lots of camera time and Crazy Eyes having a breakdown, he’s in; even if he does have the flu and is about an inch from death. That’s it Simon, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your fan club; all 36 of them.

While JZ and Lady B plot Crazy Eyes’ breakdown, Leather and Max are going on a romantic date. You just know this is going to be a scintillating conversation. Max can’t speak English and Leather is generally incoherent. I love those deep existential questions that teenagers ask each other when they’re passing a bowl back and forth. “If you can be anybody, who could you be?” Seriously, Leather’s grasp of English isn’t much better than Max’s. Max blinks and wonders if the camera time is really worth putting up an inebriated bimbo.

Der

But moving on to more important issues, on their last date Max got sparkles on his face from Leather’s makeup. First, ewwww. Second, he ought to be thanking God he didn’t end up looking like an orange disco ball. Poor guy. Those sparkles probably really cramped his style when he was hitting on the next woman. Max says something about taking Leather to Vegas, which might be cute if Leather didn’t immediately threaten violence toward the hordes of woman who’d be coming on to him. Note to Max: go rent “Fatal Attraction” and hide your bunnies.

Looking like a transgendered Michael Phelps and giggling like an adolescent schoolgirl, Leather tells us that everyone want to go out with Max and Max chose to go out with her. I’m guessing old Maxi is pretty expensive so it’s a good thing Leather’s putting her Hamptons house on the market. She’s going to have some hefty bills to pay.

Despite “being sick as a dog”, Simon manages to drag himself out of bed to meet JZ at the tennis court to practice for their upcoming match. Poor guy. It must be hard to always be apologizing to women. He starts out warning JZ that his serve is going to let her down, and I’m expecting Alex to share another nostalgic memory from their wedding night. Instead, JZ lets him know that his balls are dropping, but Simon’s heard it all before. I’m a little worried about this upcoming tennis match. Simon looks like he’s about to have a heart attack and watching him run back and forth is giving me the urge to dial 911. I’m pretty sure that either he’s going to die on the court or Mario’s going to kill him.

While JZ is working hard to whip Simon into shape, Alex is visiting Bethenny’s condo to take some photos for the logo. If JZ’s condo looks like an acid trip, Bethenny’s condo looks more like the morning after crash; we’re talking an empty expanse of dirty white. Alex has been staying home alot, what with the renovation and all, but when she does go out she’s been running into Leather all over town, which makes me wonder if Silex and Leather are haunting the same S&M clubs. Bethenny picks up on this and comments that they must be stalking Leather running in the same circles. Alex barks out a sarcastic “right”, because she would never ever want to give a false impression about her social life. It’s a total coincidence that Leather happens to have been at the parties they’ve been sneaking into.

I love it when the editors insert pointless segments between blocks of commercials, as if three minutes of hausenfrau time is going to make us any happier about seven minutes of advertising. We get a brief glimpse of JZ having a breakdown because her housekeeper quit.

No kidding. She probably decided that the dusting alone was going to kill her.

Smart woman, though. Instead of directly telling JZ, she had Bobby tell her. I’ll bet anything Bobby delivered the news over the phone holding a stiff drink in his other hand.

The day of the fateful tennis match arrives and all the hausenfrau plus a few random friends are there to see it. Leather shows up in a dress specifically designed to give her vaj a good airing out. I’m glad she’s letting some fresh air in, but, really, somethings don’t have to be shared on camera.

There’s got to be a better solution for used wipes.

Bethenny tactfully seats herself away from Leather and her aerating vaj. Alex arrives wearing the very latest in suede escort wear. Half the audience, including the Count-ass, are wearing team Jill t-shirts. And I’m totally loving the Count-ass’ biker ensemble.

Somebody’s done this before.

OMG Mario needs to STFU. Seriously, Dude, are you planning on whining like this when you finally get sent to prison? Nobody cares if you’re the underdog, or if JZ has a partner who’s 20 to 30 years younger than you. Some times in life you’ve just got to suck it up, and I’m guessing that when they finally arrest your serial killing tuchus, you’re going to be doing alot of that. While Mario is throwing a tantrum, Crazy Eyes is hanging out in the foyer doing a Richard Simmon’s routine, and preventing Simon from sneaking in. JZ makes a spirited attempt to get Crazy Eyes to stop her squats and join the rest of the people on the court, but she’s no match for the voices in Crazy Eyes head. Ramona looks blankly at her chanting “follow through, follow through.”

Rabid yorkie.

By the time JZ walks out on to the court, Mario’s worked himself up into a lather and starts ranting that under USDA rules she’s ten minutes away from having forfeited the match. Generally, I hate being kept waiting and I’d have some sympathy for him if he wasn’t SUCH A PRICK. Simon finally tries sneaking into the club, while Crazy Eyes wanders aimlessly around the halls and a weird Pink Panther skit ensues. Finally, Simon appears to applause and everybody holds their breath for Crazy Eyes reaction. Oooh this ought to be good. And…nada….crickets. Besides a few wild eye darts, Crazy Eyes manages to hold it together and not react. All I can say is ‘here’s to better living through chemicals!’ Those meds must be working. The Countess, on the other hand, was shocked, but it’s not clear if she’s shocked because it’s Simon or because of his super cool, terry cloth, headband.

Crazy Eyes has managed to channel her own Simon induced freakout into a frantic search for her misplaced tennis racket and is dashing back and forth, while Mario tells us how unfunny this all is. I don’t know, personally, I’m finding Simon unsuccessful efforts to pull the plastic off the racket he borrowed from his nanny’s son fairly amusing.

Sadly, it quickly becomes abundantly clear that JZ’s team doesn’t have a snowballs chance in hell. Probably less. Mario is finding the whole matching insulting; Bethenny’s thinks it’s boring; and Lulu says painful.

Personally, I could go with any of the above.

We wind up this week with Simon lamenting that he hoped for a much more competitive game, but, sadly, they got whipped.

Thats okay Simon, you always have your dignity.

Well Gasmi, that’s it for this week. If you want a good laugh take a look at Mario’s rant posted under Crazy Eyes’ blog this week. Serial killer has some serious anger issues. Who’d have thunk it?

I hope everyone has Happy Easters and Passovers, with much love, happiness, eggs and matzo!

Massive hugs,

Yenta

PS If my machine didn’t cut it off, I’ll try and recap the New Jersey housewives in the next couple of days.

****To read Chapter Fifteen of Yenta’s novel, The Traveling Prayer, click here.