I think I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from listening to Teresa give birth. Imagine how much worse it would be if they actually showed it. I’d be drooling a river and gazing catatonic on a V.A. cot right now, or flinching every time I hear an ape go, “Ooo, ooo, ooo, ahh, ahh, ahh.”
And the residents of Franklin Lakes continue to bore. Miss Andy needs to fire everyone responsible for casting this mess. We’d all have more fun watching a caulking special on the DIY Network, or watching clips of Sandra Lee snoozing off one of her hangovers after baking a cheese doodle cassarole.
I did discover something very important this week. I have figured out the solution to the BP oil spill in the Gulf. We’ll just use what’s left over from a Giudice trip to the hairdressers. The snippings from Teresa’a trim alone should sop up the Florida coastline. Nobel Prize, here I come!
We begin this week’s bore fest with Teresa wandering around her cavernous triple mortgaged home engaged in enduring contractions and doing chores. I have to wonder if she got induced because she keeps saying that she has a 9 a.m. appointment at the hospital during while joking about how late she is in her endless phone calls.
Juicy ‘Mo needs his morning Joe, so Low Magnon makes the bed, defrosts some waffles for one of her little tree swingers and then checks her email.
I’ve never had any kids, and every time we visit the zoo they tell us not to feed the apes. They never say anything about watching them give birth so this is like a NatGeo special for me. Is she just gonna squat over the side of the bathtub? Is she going to eat the afterbirth so that no predators can trace the scent of the newborn and eat it? And by predators, I mean bill collectors.
I also learned that, in the ape community the male of the species goes through what modern day biologists refer to as a ‘sympathy pregnancy.’ As strange and repulsive as it may appear, it is not as uncommon as you might think. Scientist have observed entire geographical areas where this occurs.
It’s called 90% of the Midwest.
It also turns out that some of the Giudice branch of the species like to brag and boast and wag their fannies at their rivals, claiming to do all the child rearing themselves without the aid of nannies. What they forget to mention is that their own mothers take on those duties. They’re just not out in the open.
They’re in the basement with one hand on the toddler leash and the other trying to separate the male sperm from the female so that the tribe will have an heir. Sadly, they always get hungry and eat it. So, we’ll have to wait and see about that boy papa gorilla’s been hunkering after.
I saw a film in the third grade about a special chimp that could discern reality from fantasy. He understood that something projected onto a screen was pretend just like he understood that the pictures in See Spot Run weren’t real. It is with a heavy heart that I must report that this particular female is not able to do that. She thinks that the pregnant man on Oprah is real and tells her mate that if he wants any more kids, he is going to have to carry them himself.
“Then what the fuck will I need you for?”
The male grunts and goes back to attempting to uncross his eyes. There’s more bad news. The female must use a gown provided by the hospital instead of a special one she brought. It still has the tags on it but this one is unclean! It is not worthy of touching the pelt of a Giudice! It’s skeevy and such!
If you are confused by this irrational behavior, you are not alone. The great apes of the world would have you know that a group of them is called a ‘shrewdness.’ This branch, not so much. Their groups are referred to as ‘crudeness’ or ‘lewdness,’ as a rule, and typically they are shunned. The campsites scatter when the call of “Diiiiiiiiii-muuuuuunns!” fills the air. Afterwards, the Giudice will enter the clearing to a half eaten rabbits and orange peels, saying “Hey. Where’d evrybahdy go?” as the apes shiver behind trees, hoping that they’ll leave.
The Giudice is also given to unexplained gestures, like the kissy face to no one, as exhibited by one Hominoidia-Teresus.
“I tink I see my cuzzin in uh tree up dere, muah!”
Scientists believe that this is a behavior left over from a previous species in evolution and allows those who witness it to realize the undeveloped nature of it’s brain, and avoid mating with it, and thereby producing undesirable or stunted offspring.
Meanwhile at the Brownstone, the lives of the Manzo clan are humming along swimmingly. They are a little higher up on the evolutionary scale, and have mastered the art of preparing food for others and eating said food with utensils. One of them is a little unfocused and easily distracted so the parents arrange for him to spend a day at a car wash where he can learn valuable lessons on how to make the most money while expending the least amount of effort. In other words, Al Senior knows a guy that owns a car wash and he’s going to let Christopher run it on Wednesday, the slowest day.
Don’t get too excited. Otis Day and The Pointer Sisters aren’t going to show up. Neither is George Carlin or Richard Pryor. There will be no pop bottle bombers and no signs advertising the Best Hand Jobs In Town. There’s a hot Latin looking cashier, though and the jury’s out on whether or not any of the girls Christopher brings are hookers that change their clothes in convenient restrooms. Anything’s possible.
Albie says that Christopher is a born salesman and calls him “The new Sinatra.” Really? REALLY?! Exactly what and where is he the new Sinatra, the Harrah’s over in Chester, Pennsylvania? No offense to Pennsylvanians, but this kid is way more Joey Bishop than he is Frank. C’mon now.
Anyway, before he can prove himself at Rick’s Dee-Luxe Car Wash, he pays a visit to Scores strip club and meets the general manager, ed. Ed looks like evry other guy walking around Vegas in a suit. You meet him, you notice that he looks vaguely Italian and then you forget him.
The girls there are hot, way hotter than any tail that Christopher is ever going to get which is probably why he wants to open a strip club in the first place. I’m also learning from this excursion. Did you know that lucite heels only come in one size? No?
Then why the fuck are her toes hanging over?
That is so gross. I hate that. It’s one of the few things that I had in common with that picky My Antonio weirdo. I cannot stand nasty feet or french manicures on toes. I can’t explain it to you but I think it’s gross. If there’s one milimeter of growth on my toenail, I cut it off. Why would anyone want to make it look like they had long toenails? Are they snorting coke out of them like they were pinkies? They’d best be gymnasts too if that’s the case. Ouch.
Anyhoodle, Chris ogles their butts, wishes he had a desk to hide his boner under like back at St. Joe’s High, and then realizes that even a fabulous industry like strip clubs has it’s problems.
Gee, you’d be a lot sexier if you WEREN’T COVERING EVERY SQUARE INCH OF YOUR BODY.
Albie arrives to offer moral support * cough *, Chris passes out drink tickets and I yawn as the camera pans a bunch of guys getting lap dances. I haven’t been to a strip joint, I’m sorry GENLTEMEN’S CLUB, in a long time, and when I went, I was drunk. I don’t remember anyone looking that desperate.
Look who wore daddy’s shirt to the big boy’s club.
It’s creepy, as Leather would say, as is the whole idea that caroline is cool with it as long as it’s classy. Seriously? If I hear her say one thing about Danielle being a whore because she was a stripper, I’m going to scream.
Speaking of old Joker Face, she’s at dinner with her girls and the sole purpose of this scene is spin control in case Christine’s little dry heaving almost-faint gets her in trouble and she never gets booked again. Christine says that she’s cool with it if she doesn’t make it and I want to believe her but the whole scene is obviously rehearsed, right up until the moment when Christine says, “The modeling world might not be ready for me,’ and Jillian accidentally blurts out “What if YOU’RE not ready for IT?” Silence.
Somebody’s getting sold into prostitution early…
That was dumb. Can’t there be a single scene with the Staubs that isn’t scripted to within an inch of it’s life? Young Christine needs a more serious chat about how much rejection she is going to face, and how lecherous the men can be, not to mention how some models are complete Kleptomaniacs.
Besides, one moment of almost puking is not going to devastate her career. Having a crazy self centered desperate mother might, but not a little vomit. THAT happens all the time. Just don’t do it on Anna Wintour’s shoes. It’ll gross her out and she might throw up the bean sprout she ate yesterday for supper.
Let’s flip the channel back to Animal planet and see how our mama monkey is doing. She’s on her cell phone talking to half of Jersey and on the hospital phone giving US Weekly an exclusive on how she finally realized that playing hide the salame was what got her knocked up in the first place.
“I dunno why, but he makes me wear an Adam Lambert mask…”
She looks exhausted and cries because it’s so painful and then they get the epidural needle out. Aaiiiiieeeeeeeeee!!!!
I know they use the big needles at the zoo but this is ridiculous.
Gawd Almighty, get that thing out of my eyesight! At least she doesn’t have to watch it go in, just like she doesn’t have to see Juicy’s weiner enter her Holland Tunnel when he needs to bust a nut. That’s what doggy style is for, and that’s the only way gorillas seem to do it.
She tells him that he owes her a gift and he asks if it’s enough for him to just stop throwing poo at her, but she wants Diiii-muns, lots and lots of them. THAT will make the pain go away, even if he has to go all the way back to Africa to get them.
Teresa didn’t know that there were diamonds in Africa. That’s right. She never saw the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio, and she never read any of the countless articles about the bloody wars fought over the mining of them. I hope Naomi Campbell is watching. maybe she can use the same excuse.
She cries some more from the pain and then asks Juicy if she looks okay, and if her make-up’s smeared.
“No, honey. You look just as gorgeous as the day Jane Goodall brought you home.”
A little while later she tells the nurse that the pressure’s so bad that she feels like she’s going to poop and the nurse looks like she could care less. Actually, she looks like she’s enjoying Teresa’s pain. maybe she’s one of Danielle’s spies. Oh, who am I kidding. As if Danielle could afford to have anyone on a payroll.
It’s not like you can pay women in blow jobs.
She huffs and she puffs and after only one and a half pushes, out comes baby Audriana. Teachers all over Franklin Lakes sigh as they realize that the test scores are about to drop yet again, and Juicy looks resigned to the fact that he’s never going to have a boy. That’s too bad. He could use the help paying the bills. I think they should keep churning the little suckers out. What’s the going rate on a good lab chimp these days? They have a lot of debt to pay off.
Over at Jacqueline and Chris’s house, the wine glasses come out and we have to endure the fact that they have a fabulous wine cellar and you and I don’t. She tells Chris that she wants Ashley to see a life coach, an idea that he laughs at, just like Ashley did.
“A life coach? How about I give her a bee-in with this here wine bottle.”
He says that Ashley doesn’t need to find out what her passion is, she needs to get her priorities straight. I.e. stop being dickmatized. I’m with him, and actually, the sooner they break up, the better. maybe then she’ll get motivated to do something with herself instead of floating around in her “I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up,” no-man’s land.
How about you be a sandwich co-ordinator at Subway or a smoothie engineer at Robek’s.
I really do hope that she doesn’t get knocked up like her mom. Chris jokes that he’ll have to show Derek what’s in the safe if he gets too fresh (kinda late for that) and Jacqueline asks to see what exactly is in the huge safe in the corner.
Oh, just some M-80s, a bazooka and a Barret M107 sniper rifle, you know, in case Danielle comes over.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a bfg 3000 in there, he has so much stuff. It must be another sign of the whole Bernie Kerrick connection, no? And what is up with half the men on this show being named Chris? There’s Chris Manzo, Chris Laurita, CJ, and even one of Danielle’s girls is a Christine. It’s freaking confusing.
Danielle is at another restaurant for another meeting with another ‘friend.’ Some lady named Karen wants to introduce her to the owner of the restaurant’s brother because he has a neice that’s very sick. The owner and the brother come out and they tell her that they would be honored if she would attend their fundraiser at the Brownstone.
Uh, dude. I wouldn’t if I were you. Don’t you have cable?
Oh, no. Her wheels start turning even as she looks on concernedly to their tale of woe. Baby cancer, huh? How can Danielle make this about her? How can she turn this event to her advantage? She tells them that she’s be happy to attend, she’ll even get some of her wealthy friends to donate money towards the poor sickly child’s medical bills.
Sorry about your kid, …….do you mind if I bring 20 Hell’s Angels and not donate a dime?
Oh, yes, yes she will. Just as soon as she finishes saying that she hopes that the Manzo’s can put aside their differences with her for the baby’s sake. Just as soon as she calls her midget hoodlum friend Danny for reinforcements.
This guy is a piece of work. They meet the next day and he’s five foot nothing, as jittery as Whitney with a doodie bubble that needs poppin,’ and as shady as an Elm on a Summer’s day. He looks like he could be a Corey and there is no way in hell that I would let that guy anywhere near my medicine cabinet. Not unless I want my xanax sold on the street to a tweaker desperate for sleep.
Danielle brought along Christine’s magazine cover, which creeps me out a bit. I would not want a nasty jumpy ex-felon like this turd ogling my 16 year old. It’s just gross. And the hair, dude, the hair!
Try not to scream, girls. It’s David Cassidy!
He’s like the 50 year old version of Danny Wooderson rocking the same hairstyle that used to pull in chicks at keggers in 1978. You know he still gets high off the memories of scoring mediocre 17 year old tail in the back of his friend’s Firebird after an amazing Foghat concert. He put the tape in the 8-track and thought of embarrassing gym class moments so he wouldn’t come too fast.
Anyway, Danielle and him bond over having both been arrested, and he even went to prison for 4 years. They act like it’s a badge of honor, like they’re in the movie Goodfellas or recounting their dangerous life on the edge when the reality is that Danielle is a snitch and this Danny guy probably served time for feeling up an underage chick.
She says that she needs him for protection and that he ‘knows a lot of people.’ You know, pickpockets and other midget pot dealers that hang out in High School parking lots. Lame. What’s even lamer is that she says that people will take one look at this druggie and they’re gonna know.
Know what? That his growth was stunted by stealing ciggies from Mom’s purse when he was 12? This phony thuggery is annoying. He’s a two-bit street punk and the only reason he can “speak without words,” is that he smells.
I’m still pissed, by the way. I am so disappointed with the underused Dina and how almost every one of her story lines revolve around the other women and what is going on in their lives. I want to know what is going on in Witchypoo’s life, not what she’s going to do about Danielle’s intrusiveness.
I love her convertible Mercedes. I want one so I can drive around Shaker Heights looking like a mad cougar on the prowl, my scarf blowing in the wind behind me, even if I only drive back and forth to Whole Foods and the diamond wholesaler.
She called a mee-in with Jacqueline and Caroline. I was hoping for something big, like a spell gone horribly wrong or good news like Miss Andy gave Grandma Wrinkles her own show, but no. It’s the freaking Danielle bullshit all over again and I have to sit and listen to Caroline lord it over the issue like she’s got all the answers.
Dina tells Caroline that Zen Jen told her to speak to Joker Face in person. First, Caroline gives her shit for calling a meeting over such a mundane issue, then she shits all over the idea of listening to an energist and then the usual Danielle trashing begins. What a joy this Manzo matriarch is! I would just love to have to listen to her judge everyone 24 hours a day, wouldn’t you? I sure hope that she doesn’t have any skeletons in her closet. We all know how the viewers love to see the high & mighty fall.
Voices are raised and Dina tells her church lady sister that she’s going to listen to Jen because she’s been right about everything else. She just wanted the two of them to hear it from her, not some manicurist at the local foofy salon.
And, yes. I do notice that Caroline does this whole side head cock when she’s meting out her sanctimonious decrees from on high. Her eyes bulge and sometimes her mouth twists up into a little knot, totally reminding me of Dana Carvey on SNL. There’s one huge difference. The Church lady was funny. Caroline is just mean and ornery.
And I’ve decided that the Caroline head cock is our BOOTS! DRESS! drinking game for New Jersey, so drink!
Later on, Jacqueline takes baby Nicholas to meet his future wife at the hospital. He’s in Ed Hardy and she’s in leopard. I think they are entering this picture into the baby version of Hot Chicks with Douchebags. I see an amazing future for the two of them. Flirtations over bottle service in herpes riddled clubs followed by blackouts and sleeping with each other’s best friends. Roid rage and scratches from fake nails as their firstborn- Christopher or Sluterella depending on the sex, looks on from it’s Affliction logo’d bassinet, aaaaand…..repeat. Yay, more monkeys for the colony!
Somebody has to pay off all of Juicy’s debt.
It’s time for the long awaited scene straight out of a low-rent horndog guido version of Car Wash.
Wake me up when Christopher finds God
Christopher arrives and the owner leaves him alone with the keys to the store and a charming Latina cashier. Is it me or is every single employee Mexican?
How awful! They’re taking jobs away from the local teenagers!
But they probably speak better English, if Teresa’s anything to go by.
I’m only joshing. I am not one of those anti-immigration people. That stuff smacks of racism to me. I say crack down on employers who pay under the table, not the workers supporting families in Guadalajara on the 6 bucks an hour they make hanging drywall.
Christopher wants to draw business into the car wash the good old fashioned way, with half naked chicks. A whole gaggle of them, obviously hand picked from prestigious modeling agencies across the river in White Plains. (You thought I was going to say Manhattan, didn’t you?)
More like the Paramus Park Shopping Center.
They don t-shirts that they knot above their bellies and one particular beauty runs around with a bikini bottom instead of shorts. I have that same bathing suit that I ordered out of a catalog.
Victoria ain’t keeping that Secret.
They lure in loads of Jersey boys who haven’t seen this quality of tail since they panted over their babysitter’s boobies in elementary school or creeped on their friend’s older sisters by hiding in her closet for hours waiting for her to undress.
Whatever, it’s a big success and even Caroline has to admit it when she shows up with her husband later to get their monstrosity of an SUV washed. She meets one of the girls and you can see her biting back the prostitution whore comments that are barely concealed under the surface. God, I hope Christopher marries a Hooters girl or a Hustler centerfold. How perfect would that be?
The girls are just okay looking and I think he should have hired Ashley. She’s unemployed and this show is so boring that the only stuff that’s entertaining me are the scenarios I create in my head. Ashley struts her stuff on the sidewalk, Christopher is to blame and Jacqueline loses her shit as Caroline cocks her head to the side and says, “I told you so, that’s what you get for hangin’ out wid gahbidge.”
Who cares? The owner pulls up, he’s happy that business is booming and I sigh as I realize that I wasted another hour of my life to their fascinating lives. Sheesh. If I want to be bored I can go to an Indian’s game. I don’t need this shit to make me yawn and tear my hair out.
There was one cute scene this week where Dina visits Teresa and the baby in the hospital and Teresa tells her that she wants her to be the Godmother. They both get teary and it’s sweet when the little monkey Mama says that it’s a tradition among apes to pick someone that they want their child to grow up and be like.
“I sure hope dis one can read n rite.”
The last scene is a foreshadowing of what goes down at the Brownstone in the next episode. Al Senior tells Caroline about the fundraiser being held there and the fact that Danielle is a guest of honor that will be presenting the Ed McMahon check to the family of the little baby with cancer.
Here’s where Caroline proves herself to be almost as self centered as Danielle. She’s not only pissed that Joker Face is going to be at their place of business, she’s even more upset because SHE wasn’t asked to present the check! Hypocrite, much?
She makes fun of Danielle and all her born again bullshit, says that she’s going to call her garbage to her face again, then interviews that, ultimately, she’s going to win. What are you, Jill Zarin? What is this winning or losing crap? And how are you any better than the crazy woman with your nasty comments about her daughters and the way you gobble up gossip while pretending to be so much better than everyone else?
Shut up and loan Teresa some money before she has to move in with you along with her four Neanderthal brats. We’ll see how cute you think they are when their underfoot 24/7. Now THAT’S a show I would love to watch.
Love and Kisses,