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It’s 3 AM in my overly dramatic Hollywood bungalow (that’s California, not Florida) and your insomniac Recap Artist is hard at work, a light breeze wafting jasmine and grapefruit tree-blossom into the breakfast nook I’ve cheerily transformed into a home office. My 19″ Apple monitor illuminates me and my generous C-cups, bouncing freely in a soft 100% cotton scoop-neck tee from Country Road in Australia, just enough for any neighboring pervert to get a nice gander if they happen to be peering through the grapefruit tree into my kitchen window. Let them look all they want, I have a selection of very sharp knives close by. And I’m Puerto Rican so I know how to use them.
When we last left our Jersey Housewife pals, three of them were on a hideous cruise ship bound for Naples (Italy, not Florida) and one of them was back in NJ, threatening to get the last laugh by digging up the bitch who left her in a basket for the nuns circa 1962. Milania (aka Feral Lemur Baby) “celebrated” her 4th birthday in typical OTT Jew-Dice fashion, screaming and pouting her way through a nightmarish mandatory dinner party ordered by delusional shopaholic mommy Teresa. Daddy Juicy Joe wasn’t too concerned about his DWI. Danielle accused aspiring 5th Housewife Kim G of betraying her. Kim dismissed Danielle “and her fake and square tits” in a valet parking area (where all the Dani-drama seems to always take place). Mommy Salami (aka Caroline) and husband Albert resented being put on troll-patrol (aka babysitting Teresa’s hyper-accessorized Goils). Teresa’s dad Giacinto offended a tableful of assimilated Italian-Americans by warning them about “the mafioso” of Napoli.
Naples. The Deranged Cunt (aka the Costa Deliziosa) docks, spewing forth Jew-Dices and Manzo-Lauritae. Caroline interviews that she’s thrilled to be in Naples, because she hates cruise ships. Especially when they’re floating day-care centers for Jew-Dice brats. Speaking of which…
How’s charm school, Grace?
The whining begins before the door to the Jew-Dice cabin even opens. “Trow her on da deck– trow her overbroad!” Joe snips as if reading our collective mind. Joe grumbles to his wife: “Nex’ time I ain’t goin wit you. Dis ain’t a fuckin vacation!” The narrow corridor bottlenecks with Jew-Dice in-laws and Milania’s pink suitcase falls over on her. LOL. Feral starts shrieking and sobbing. “We just arrived to Naples,” Teresa illiterately interviews, “and here’s Joe bitchin about how many bags I packed.” Teresa says the dream getaway has been “a stressful time for us”, since Joe is worried “about bein away from his business for a week.” Yes, honey– that’s all that’s troubling him. It has nothing to do with his spouse and children acting like enormous assholes in front of everyone he knows, the crew of the Deranged Cunt, the crew of Real Housewives of New Jersey, and a global television audience. Niente, nada, bupkis. Which coincidentally is also his bank balance and credit score.
Jacqueline interviews that everyone left their bags on the ship, except Joe. “Maybe he was worried one would end up missing,” she theorizes. Hey, lady– hair extensions and Thorazine are expensive! Joe is in hell, shlepping strollers and suitcases down a giant flight of stairs. Jacqueline, Teresa’s BFF, gets saucy: “God forbid… one of her kids didn’t have a bow on their head– she’d make one out of toilet paper.” Et tu, Jacqui?!!
Bus. From Teresa’s lap, Feral Lemur demands to know where they’re going. Teresa says they’re going to visit Naples. “I wanna go to Sala Consilina NOW!” the fussy little traveler [insert synonym of choice for WHINES], referring to the godforsaken backwater the Jew-Dice ancestors call home. Teresa threatens to send Feral to the back of the bus “with Daddy” if she doesn’t dial it down. Joe looks miserable back there, with aspiring talent-free starlet Gia crawling over him to reach the window, perhaps looking for an agency to rep her, since Italian movies are traditionally shot without live sound, thus enabling producers to post-dub shaky performances with voices of performers who can actually act. And as we all know, when it comes to actressing, Gia makes The Olsen Twins look like Rosanna & Patricia Arquette.
“Great, Milania! Now do ‘BULIMIC Supermodel’!”
Caroline diplomatically tells us that “I was annoyed– it’s been a long time since I had three little ones that age for an extended period of time in unfamiliar surroundings, and they’re not my kids… [so I can't smack the shit out of them].” Teresa is trying unsuccessfully to bribe Feral with the promise of seeing “all your cousins” tomorrow, then interviews that “Caroline seems like she’s in a funky mood, but we’re finally on land, [and] she hates cruise ships, so she should be happy now.” I’ve heard, through the Gasmi grapevine, that Caroline was suffering from kidney stones (Caroline– stop drinking all that iced tea!) on this trip, which must have made close contact with Teresa’s womb-rot even more harrowing. But Teresa doesn’t care: “I don’t feel responsible at all if people [and creditors] are in a crappy mood. That’s on them.” All I can say is… wow! And that Teresa is a delusional, entitled dripping snatch.
As the bus heads for the city center, Giacinto gives Teresa a geography lesson, pointing out Mount Vesuvius. Teresa interviews that “Naples had this volcano, and it did erupt, but hundreds and hundreds of years ago.” She becomes confused, asking the interviewer “Hundreds of years ago? Or 60 years ago? What was it?” Teresa is worried that “smoke’s comin out of it”, but her dad tells her that’s just fog. Poor Joe. His fantasy of cascading molten lava consuming Teresa, the Goils and their luggage, doused in the mist.
Naples is a fabulously gritty city with seafood-inflected cuisine that’s almost worth getting run over by the most aggressive, worst drivers in Italy. Last time I was there I stayed at a friend’s apartment in an 18th century building with angels and gargoyles clustering over every doorway and window. The anchovy pizza and beautiful, thuggy, horny boys in tight jeans will linger forever in my Ecstasy-damaged brain. Mangiamo!
Hotel. The Jew-Dices check in (off-camera) and go to their typically teeny room. Teresa: Goils… do you like it? Great, give them another chance to bitch about something. The Goils go into the bathroom and become excited at the discovery of “a little sink!” Teresa, the ever-sophisticated mentor, tells them it’s called an “Obuhdeh”. The Pretty One (aka Gabriella, 5), squeals that her infant sister “Tawdriana can go in it!” I love that the first time the entire trip that these kids are excited about something it’s a fucking bidet. Or, in case Teresa is reading this: a bee-day. But what is it, Mommy?! Teresa says that in Italy they have a toilet and… “A boy’s toilet?” Gia guesses. No, it’s an obuhduh, her mother corrects. Teresa asks Joe for clarification, but of course he has no clue. He does know “they don’t use ‘em anymore in America”. Anymore?! Does Joe have a photo album somewhere with sepia shots of his Nonna squatting over the obuhdeux, flushing out her tired continental cooze? “Dey’re like douches!” Joe says. We have a winner, Gasmii! Thank goodness. The rest of this day might be sheer torture, but at least his Goils will be fresh as spring daisies.
“Mommy! Can we have a Who’s Got The Cleanest Jyna Contest? PLEEEEEAZE?!?”
In Caroline’s room, Albert throws himself on the bed, exhausted. Caroline tells him that her parents are thrilled to be back in Naples, even though it’s changed a lot. She tells us her dad’s parents emigrated from Italy and that “they didn’t teach Italian to us, which I’m very angry about.” She says she only knows “the bad words”. Albert tells Caroline last time he was here he went to Pompeii and saw the disturbing famous figures of unlucky ancient citizens encased forever in sizzling hot ash. Caroline says she’d “love to see that– I don’t think with this crew it’s gonna happen.” Caroline wistfully talks of “escaping” the chain-gang and actually enjoying the time they have left there. Do it! I really feel bad for her. Pompeii is mind-blowing and so worth disrupting Teresa’s death-march schedule for.
Caroline and Albert joke about not being missed, but Caroline thinks The Pretty One would miss Albert. “She’s your little buddy,” she tells him. TPO certainly ain’t Caroline’s buddy– in the previous episode, Gabriella tried to stab Caroline in the face with a pen. “The three of them are very special kids,” Albert remarks, “special”, as we all know, being code for “retarded”. “They need a little iron hand,” Albert dares to observe. “Joe and Teresa, they’re different than we were.” Yes, you’re good parents and they suck it at. “At some point you have to discipline them,” Albert almost pleads. Caroline interviews that “it’s a lotta work, raising kids”. Yeah, if you give a shit. She declares that she and Albert “are done raising kids” and are “looking forward to grandchildren”. Who aren’t assholes. At least with all the nice low obuhduhs all over the hotel, they’ll be able to drown Feral and The Pretty One with minimum back strain.
Staub Manor. Time to check in on our rumor-has-it-recently-fired-from-the-show wack-job! “How was your day, Bean?” Danielle asks her daughter. Um, I think her name is Jillian. Yes, it definitely is; they just chyroned it. “Good,” the 11-year-old replies. Danielle’s day was “awesome”. But she’d like to have a chat with Jillian and Christine, 16, without the aspiring teen model texting “help me” messages the whole time. Danielle confiscates Christine’s phone so all attention can be on Danielle, who’s feeling “sensitive” because she wants to play the victim card again talk about her mom to the girls. Danielle reminds them and us about the trauma of the girls (who, for the record, seem not in the least bit traumatized and quite probably couldn’t care less) finding out through the local town gossip about Danielle’s search for her biological mother. Danielle didn’t want them to know about this until she actually found the old bag, who probably WILL be traumatized to find Bitter Betty and a camera crew on her doorstep. Shoulda kept those legs closed, Granny!
“And how will you be scarring us for life THIS week, Mom?”
Danielle tells us that Kim G “stabbed me in the proverbial back” by revealing Danielle’s search to Teresa. Such. Manufactured. Horseshit. Then she regurgitates the “Evil Hurtful Teresa” speech to her daughters until Christine robotically agrees that Teresa doesn’t “respect” Danielle and that’s wrong. After all, Christine says, Danielle is “a human being”. Now that she mentions it, I’m not too sure about that. Danielle’s looking a lot like the Geico Gekko in a wig.
“I was a baby left without a mother,” Danielle interviews. “However, I still turned out to be a good mom.” Yay for you! Actually, her daughters do seem extraordinarily un-fucked-up, which, considering Danielle’s onscreen behavior for two seasons, is a bona-fide Christian miracle. Danielle tells the girls that them finding out about the search is really “a blessing” (then why the hell do you keep filibustering about it?!?) and that “there’s a chance” that Danielle will be able to rub them in the face of introduce them “to the woman who risked it all to have me at 15″. So now Granny’s a hero? OK– that might be a good way to sell it to the poor old bat.
Jillian thinks Danielle meeting her mother will be a good thing, and Christine applauds Danielle for making an effort and not “sitting on your ass” and doing nothing to satisfy Danielle’s curiosity. Ex-Stripper Danielle stiffens at this salty language and Christine immediately amends “ass” to “butt”. A well-spoken young lady has “many options”, Countess Danielle lectures, “behind, bottom”, “heinie”, “tuchus”, “the one orifice Danielle didn’t surrender on her recent sex tape”. So many euphemisms! Danielle tells Christine she’s “too beautiful and too spiritual to speak like that.” What planet is this bitch ON??! And how could Bravo fire a person who says shit like this? It’s an utter disgrace.
“What’s that, Satan? You want me to keep twisting the chain until the sow is dead? Got it!”
Piazza San Domenico. Caroline and Chris check in with their parents Joe and Nettie to see how they’re doing. Not surprisingly, being around the Jew-Dices has the oldsters thinking about death, and they say for “as many years as they left”, they’ll cherish this trip, which Joe predicts will be their last. Caroline says they taught her that family comes first, so doing this for her parents “is very dear to me”. She says she wishes “the other 9 of us were here”, making me wonder if I have the math wrong, or does that mean poor Nettie gave birth to 11 kids??! Jesus. It’s possible that SHE popped Danielle out while while making a lasagna and one of the kids brought her to Catholic school for show and tell and forgot her in the cloakroom. If so, Caroline is going to be so pissed.
At long last, someone in this sorry group (namely Chris) uses their head and takes everyone out to dinner. Everybody (especially Joe) channels their aggression into stuffing their faces with what, Caroline tells us, is renowned to be “the best pizza in the WORLD”. It looks incredible coming out of that wood-burning oven. Even Milania is acting like a human. Of course it’s all too good to be true, because now Teresa has to bum them all out by talking. Caroline interviews that Teresa can’t shut up about her family reunion in Sala Consilina, which Caroline is too disgusted to bother to learn to pronounce. Jacqueline wants to know if the upcoming relatives are “like” Joe and Teresa: “Do they wear fur and leopard?” Teresa interviews that “Where Joe’s family live, it’s really old-school, like all the homes are on top of each other.” So kind of like your new digs atop the pizzeria.
She goes on to say that Joe came to the US when he was one. Joe warns them that to reach his family, you have to hike up a hill. “The kids” and “old people”, too, Jacqui kvetches. Joe says his 86-year-old grandma still goes up and down the hill, so quit belly-aching, Msjacqlaur! But Jacqueline is semi-drunk and stands up to cause trouble by asking “Does anybody think it’s gonna be a problem tomorrow hiking up a hill with babies and old people?” Um, how rude–Caroline is sitting right next to you. Teresa interview-snips back that “we’re in Italy”, where there are indigenous elderly and infants– “If they can do it, we can do it!” Then she crosses herself like God hasn’t already damned her to an eternal beach party on the Lake of Fire.
So close. So frustratingly close…
Staub Manor. Yipping mutts signal the arrival of Danielle’s little felon buddy and chauffeur Danny, who’s taking Her Ladyship to lunch. How ’bout the Market Basket? Danielle: …With those crazy bitches live over there? I guess that’s a no, Gasmii. Danny says the crazy bitches are “gone”. Did they get their “karmic return” and drop dead, Danielle inquires. No, gossipy Danny says, they’re in Italy. Teresa, Jacqueline, all them hoo-ahs. You sure? asks Danielle, who “could really go for some panini.” I could go for some regular NeNe myself. She’s kind of the Danielle of RHOA, right? I’d love see her and Danielle become BFF’s then watch it all go tits-up by week. There’s no reason they can’t be sisters. NeNe’s deadbeat dad could easily have headed north in search of jailbait Cuban Missile Crisis cooze. Am I reaching? We’re already one-third through and this episode is putting me to sleep faster than an Ambien CR and a six-pack of Champale. I’m probably dating myself, but somebody has to. When your underwear model boyfriend high-tails it back to Sydney without even putting a ring on it, you have no choice but to insert his photo in your last recap as a gay joke. You feel me, ladies? Anyone?
Freed from the terror of running into her arch-frenemies, Danielle, shockingly, drives the Range Rover herself, chanting “I get panini!” like a retard. I hope she sees Dina and ends up with a cleavage full of antipasti. Danielle tells Danny that “before I met Jacqueline La-RI-ta”, Franklin Lakes used to be her playground, a sunny village ideal for grabbing an ice cream with one’s daughters, or getting sloshed at an elegant bar waiting for one’s internet date to stand one up. Danielle revs up the Victim Engine: “Those woman [sic] have threatened me to the point where I don’t even wanna run into them,” she confesses to Danny. She says she could “just walk into a parking lot where they could just ambush me– AND YOU KNOW THEY DO!” she squawks. Danny quickly agrees if only to keep her focused and her eye-lift on the road. She elaborates via interview: “I wouldn’t pretend to know what one of those Manzo lunatics– oh, and Laurita, well, Jew-Dice lunatics are doing in Italy– don’t want to know.” From what we’ve seen, I can assure her that it’s not as much fun as lunching with an ex-con.
Market Basket. Danielle says she associates this joint “with a sinking feeling in my gut” that, like Hitler‘s SS, “out of nowhere they would come!” It’s called paranoid dementia, folks. My great-aunt Lupita has it and gets up in the middle of the night to put her rings in the basement refrigerator to hide them from the UPS man. Danielle claims she “couldn’t let my kids walk around here safely anymore”. OMFG, you raving madwoman. I sincerely doubt that even thuggette Ashley cruises the shopping center hoping to pick a catfight with Christine and Jillian. (Although I’m 100% in favor of the forbidden Christopher Manzo-Christine romance one of my beloved Gasmii suggested 2 weeks ago in the Comments of this very blog.) “I hope it’s not another Titanic weather on that cruise,” Danielle adds, the idiocy of her confusing an iceberg with weather nullifying her clumsy wish for the Deranged Cunt to sink with sweet, innocent CJ Laurita and infants Nicholas and Tawdriana aboard.
Is that jool-a-ree or are you expecting a vampire attack?
Danny keeps stirring the pot in a laudable effort to score a slut machine freak-out jackpot: He “ran into one of Ashley’s friends”, who are apparently seeking Danny out to ask what THEY can do for Danielle. Danielle labels Ashley as having “terroristic tendencies”– that’s why Danny says he wants to “keep tabs on her”. Adults are actually paid to churn out this crap. Not that I don’t think the producers of RHONJ aren’t doing a lovely job… I just think the people who have to sit through it deserve to be paid double. Danielle yammers on about Awful Ashley: “She’s a special kind of crazy. Look what she did to me! Yanked the hair out of my head. The one I used to drive to school so she wouldn’t be thrown out of yet another school.” She tells us she hopes and prays they took Ash with them– if she attacked Danielle in a country club, why not in a supermarket? Or an adult bookstore? Or a gynecologist’s office when you’re trying to tape a nice uplifting segment about your daughter’s cervix? This evil, moon-faced Guidette must be stopped!
Naples. Bellboys pack the chartered bus with dozens of pink suitcases and hair-extension carriers. The Pretty One takes First Whine of the Day honors, but surprise! She’s whining with joy– she found her purple glove! Yay for you, TPO! You’re gonna need it walking to public school from the homeless shelter. Things immediately go downhill and I ain’t talkin ’bout drivin’ through no mountains, chile. Joe stomps onto the bus, grumbling that they just paid 850 Euros for one night in the hotel. This converts to around $1100 bucks! For that tiny room?! So not worth it, even with unlimited obuhdeux privileges. “One f*ckin night!” Joe grunts. To add insult to perjury (I’m thinking bankruptcy court), Joe’s parents just paid 650 for theirs. Joe’s ma Filomena pipes up: “How astupid we are! We gotta come to Naples to let them steal our money! It’s abullsh*t!” Cantalo, sorella! Maybe the name of the hotel should’ve tipped them off: “Albergo Mafioso“.
Joe yells that it’s too hot and demands air conditioning. “Tell ‘em to turn this f*ckin bus on!” Teresa doesn’t need a little thing like dropping a grand on one night’s lodging piercing her pretty spendy balloon and admonishes Joe to “stop cursin in fronttada kids!” Joe: I doan give a sh*t. Relax, kid, Teresa threateningly replies. Joe: NO! Teresa: JOE! Joe: Lea’me alone. I tot it was 850 Euro for all tree rooms! I didn’t touch nuttin outta da mini-bar. Jacqueline, who at the time of this blogging to my knowledge under oath, has NOT filed for bankruptcy yet, irritatedly interviews “OMG, they wouldn’t stop about how much everything cost. It was a nonstop bitchfest. It’s like you eat, you drink, you PAY.” Or in your case, your husband pays, and luckily he can, because even in a recessed economy, Jersey is full of people looking to keep up with the Gionoffrios by throwing obscenely pricey weddings, Sweet 16′s and yes, christening parties at The Brownstone.
But it doesn’t matter if you’re richer than Seacrest, no amount of cash can save your nerves if you’re trapped on a bus with Joe Jew-Dice and his harem of hollering hair-hoppers. From the back, Joe loudly disputes various charges: “Cognac, vodka, who drank the cognac?!” Teresa, who would give her new left tit for cell phone coverage and a Saks catalog right now, reacts by assuring the Goils that Mommy still loves them. What I love is how Teresa is so deeply sick as a mother that materialism and love have become the same thing– when Joe questions her profligate spending, it’s tantamount to him saying he doesn’t love them. “My fadduh don’t drink no cognac!” Joe splutters. “Whiskey?! I doan even drink whiskey! That’s bullsh*t. A bowl of pasta, 400 Euros?… I feel like goin back to beat’em up just cuzza dat bill. I mean, dat’s impossible. How the hell could we do 2200 dolluhs in drinks in one night?!… And duh breakfast SUCKED!” Teresa has had enough: Zip it, she warns him.
Joe’s tiny brain can’t stop smoking and grinding, trying to figure out the admittedly massive financial damage one night in Naples has inflicted. “We had a thousand dolluh breakfast dat sucked.” Teresa: Joe. Shut UP. Joe: I doan care. Caroline interviews that Joe was “tired” and “cranky” and “lashing out at everybody”. Then Joe announces that “my mouth is so dry I’m about to swallow my tongue” and “I had a cuppa cawfee and a sh*tty ham sandwich for a thousand dollars.” You’re exaggerating, there was also an obuhdeux. Teresa tells us that “when Joe gets like that I just ignore him”. Like you do with everything else that’s wrong with your life. She tries to placate by telling the bus that they’re almost there. Joe lays out the plan for everyone: “We’ll see a little bitta duh town but we’re gonna do what we gotta do. We gotta go eat and we gotta be civilized. No more bullsh*t f*ckin aroun.” Caroline finds this hysterical and cracks up.
Sala Consilina. A quaint farming village with panoramic mountain views. Joe says he’s happy already and mentions that the air is a lot fresher than in Naples. The bus comes to a steep cobblestone road and has to stop. “Please no, please no,” Gia can be heard crabbing, although to be fair to the budding young Pia Zadora, maybe Teresa is trying to weigh her down with hair clips and jool-a-ree. Jacqueline interviews that she didn’t much for care the “hill we had to climb”. Get some exercise, bitch. Because when you sit on Chris’s face, he can’t hear the stereo. Jacqueline claims she was just concerned for the oldsters in the group, and they end up leaving Caroline & Teresa’s parents behind to watch Tawdriana.
Teresa clomps up the hill in four-inch heeled boots, pointing out her parents’ house, which the Jew-Dices now own and Teresa plans to fix up when she “makes a lot of money”. There’s a better chance of Mt Vesuvius erupting again. The climb is strenuous (and “a great ass workout”), but luckily they have Joe to entertain with stories about how donkeys used to do all the heavy lifting for the villagers. They should never have gotten rid of them, Joe opines, obviously wishing he’d married one instead of the hairy, obstinate beast he’s now stuck with. First stop at the top– Joe’s grandma Maria‘s. She’s holding up exceptionally well for her mid-80′s. All that uphill walking keeps you young and fit. As does being an ocean away from her not-so-great great-granddaughters. Nonna Maria hugs and kisses everyone and tells Teresa how beautiful she is. Even with that hairline, I guess she’s a Sala Consilina 8.
“Mamma mia, Giuseppe! Why you kids-a sucha assholes?!”
Detective’s house. Danielle arrives at the home office of married private investigation team Jeanette and Jimmy O’Connor. They were referred by Danny, so my sleaze-o-meter is instantly on. Danielle explains that she’s looking for her birth mother and doesn’t have much to go on– date and place of birth and “my ethninticity“. Yep, that’s what she said. Jimmy almost raises his eyebrows at Danielle’s fancy made-up word, but manages to suppress the giggles into a sympathetic smile. Basically they’re looking for a “Catholic”, “Italian” 62-year-old. And… go! Jimmy warns Danielle this won’t be easy or quick. Danielle pauses to relish her victimhood: “Nothing in my life has been fabulously easy.” Except, apparently, your mother.
Danielle tells them she’s all alone in the world except for her daughters and dear, special friends like Jacqueline Kim G Kim D Danny. She’d love to have “another adult in her life… I’m a very positive thinker, so I’m just gonna say if I’m ready, she’s ready.” Narcissism at its finest, mis hijos. Jimmy then warns Danielle that if and when they find the poor old cow, “she has to make the decision to see you. That’ll be the easiest decision since Baked Ruffles VS Wow Chips. Just say no to anal leakage! And in Danielle’s mom’s case, vaginal leakage (i.e. Danielle). Danielle rather buzz-killingly confesses via interview that all she wants “is to be part of a family”, but if Mom’s “addicted to any drugs or alcohol, or if she’s homeless,” that’s a deal-breaker. It’s also a great new CBS sitcom pilot: Shit My Homeless Birth Mom Says When She’s Fucked Up On Crack!
Danielle sums it all up with a classic Staubism: “I’m not finding her to make HER better, I’m finding her to make ME better.” A talented make-up artist and regular meals would be so much cheaper. Then Danielle starts weeping as she tells the detectives, if Bio-Mom doesn’t want to meet her, Danielle is… not going to meet her. No shit, fruit loop.
“If we have any hope of a reunion, it’s going to be very important that your birth mother has had no access to cable television. Specifically Bravo.”
Sala Consilina. The death-march continues up still more romantic cobblestone paths and stairways until our beleaguered tour group reaches someone’s house. There’s lots of double-cheek-kisses and Ciao Bellas and an extremely cute dog:
Teresa interviews that she and Joe speak Italian, in fact “I didn’t start speakin English till I went to kinnergarden, so that’s why sometimes when I’m saying things, that’s why it comes out the wrong way.” And you stoopid.
Teresa introduces Caroline & Jacqueline to “all the young cousins”. Jacqueline interviews that it was nice being in Italy because it’s far away from Danielle. Now we all know these interviews are “guided” by the producers, who need to put an episode together with links and segues between “storylines”, but come on. Jacqui comes off as so utterly petulant and simplistic she ought to be ashamed. Jacqueline HAS to take some serious responsibility for Ashley yanking on Danielle’s weave. As mentioned by you, Gasmii, despite Jacqui’s perfunctory protestations and head-shaking and disappointment in her aimless, brainlessly behaving daughter, Jacqueline’s feeding her and us mixed signals that render her as two-faced and insincere as Kim G. Danielle is a pathetic, damaged loon who should have NO impact on Jacqueline’s cushy (albeit dysfunctional) life and I’m sick of Daffy Dani being used as a scapegoat by every single other adult on the show.
More food-porn as we get a kitchen table full of authentic Southern Italian home cooking, which the camera lingeringly drools over: sausage, mozzarella, rolls, prosciutto. You can’t even watch this stuff on TV without compromising the fit of your favorite jeans. Chris proposes a toast and everyone pigs out. Even Feral and The Pretty One are too amazed to misbehave.
Because this is a Catholic show, we all now need to be punished for our indulgence with a visit to the family slaughterhouse! “How do you kill the pig?” Caroline asks. “They usually slice their t’roat,” Joe says, pointing out a huge, horrifying Hostel-type hook hanging from the ceiling. The Jersey contingent reacts, appalled, as if all the meat at The Brownstone gets on people’s plates because the critters had heart attacks. Caroline insists via interview that she wouldn’t have eaten the sausage if she knew the pig died 50 feet from the kitchen. “Every five minutes you hear a pig screamin,” Joe gleefully tells them, referring to daily village life and not Teresa on this trip. Joe yuks it up and Jacqueline threatens to shove the wire brush (used for scrubbing the bristles off the carcass) into Joe’s rectum and make him “squeal like a pig”. Joe must have gotten SO hard.
That’s not necessary. All she needs are a couple glasses of red wine and the latest Chanel catalog.
“I wanna go see the piggies!” Milania screeches. Caroline suggests prescription painkillers would help tranquilize the pigs before butchering. Just leave it alone with Feral and TPO and that porker will slit his own throat. Then Milania can YouTube it on her Facebook page. Which some of you Gasmii should get together and create if it doesn’t already exist. Caroline says she didn’t know whose house she was in, but that stealing a quick spaghetti feeding-frenzy with Jacqueline was the moment she was “most at peace” in the trip.
“Orange trees?! Whaddawe in Florida here?” Joe cracks, witty as always, as they check out the terraced garden and he tells Teresa to shut up again. Later, in town, she demands an apology for “yellin at me”. Instead he tells her to “learn a little respect” and she tries to kick him in the ass. I’m sorry, Danielle– in the behind. Teresa gripes via interview that “Joe’s been in a funky mood the whole time, so I want him to apologize.” This is what happens when she’s more than half a mile from a designer retail outlet. Joe placates her with a smooch and playfully threatens to kick her across a ravine to his uncle’s apartment terrace as Caroline waxes wise: “Who doesn’t fight?… If you say ‘I don’t fight with my family’, lie-uh! Of course ya fight… cuz ya love each other. Fighting’s part of marriage.” Right up there with co-signing for American Express Black cards you have no intention of paying off.
Acquainted with his homeland’s bloodthirsty drivers, Joe admonishes Feral to hold their hands while traipsing through the streets, “cuz I’m gonna kick your little butt if you don’t! I doan like the way you’re actin.” That goes double for you, Gia Zadora. Teresa admonishes Joe to stop “yellin” at the Goils. He says they don’t want to hold his hand because he tries to get them to behave whereas Teresa lets them run amuck. “I think you should apologize to The Pretty One,” Teresa challenges him, poking a sharp stick at an ill-tempered bulldog on a 3-foot chain. Joe doesn’t say he’s sorry, but smothers TPO’s face with kisses because rageaholic diva tots should always be mollified, never corrected. I’m sorry, but her pimp is going to have a helluva time breaking this one in.
“And dere’s where me’n duh udduh altuh boys useta play Ookie Biscotti.”
But don’t worry– Joe has a jug of vino rosso hidden in Tawdriana’s stroller. How about a big novelty pope hat with a hidden wine bottle holder and a long straw disguised as one of those Britney Spears stage mics? You could sell them all over Italy. As the sun sets, Joe’s ma Filomena points out various local landmarks: the church where she married Joe’s pa on 2-22-69, and the modest apartment where she give birth to Juicy sometime in late September, I’m guessing. Jacqueline interviews that she feels so “blessed” to be there with three generations of three different families– she loves stories about people who marry their childhood sweethearts and then stay together for life. No matter HOW much they grow to loathe each other. Jacqueline thanks God for “a tight family bond”. At least something’s on this broad’s tight, Gasmii.
Staub Manor. Danielle is relaxing at home with her dogs and daughters when her hired detectives phone. She sees the caller ID and “my heart sinks a little bit”, she tells us, begging the question Why the hell did you get yourself into this mess?! It’s so hard to find people to victimize you that now you’re paying someone to dig them up?! Well, don’t get too excited. He just tells her they sent a letter to the court to locate the papers Danielle’s Bio-Mom would have had to sign, but since she was a minor, it’s going to take more time. And if she went the sock-hop dumpster route, it’ll really be tough. Jim the PI says “with a little luck from the court”, he’ll be allowed to take Danielle to search through official records, but that could happen “tomorrow or 10 years from now”. Danielle weepily tells us she realizes she might never find Mom, but she’s been searching for 47 years and won’t stop now. Because she’s a victim survivor hero! She tells her daughters that all they can do now is pray.
Borgalucano. Teresa’s family dinner is at a nice restaurant. Teresa tells us that she stuck her parents with baby Tawdriana all day, so this is the first time the Sala Consilina contingent is seeing Tawdri. Make sure to have the gold, frankincense and myrrh ready, cugini! Or if you really want to impress, Chanel, Prada and Nairrh. Sure enough, Teresa makes a grand entrance with poor Tawdri and the Goils dolled-up in pink like friggin’ Easter baskets. “Lookit Tawdriana!” Teresa whines triumphantly, then tells us she had the four matching get-ups “custom-made”. How thrifty of her!
What. The fuck. Is on. Her head!?!?
Teresa makes a toast, thanking her family and Caroline & Jacqueline for being there. We’re supposed to feel warm and fuzzy (like Joe’s butt-crack) here, because the editors aren’t showing us Feral acting like a twat, and Caroline is beneficently interviewing that “You don’t have to be blood to be family”. Let’s hope for your sake that the bankruptcy judge feels differently. Caroline says “There’s a bond there and I’ll protect it to the end”. Anyone else wonder about this “end” Caroline keeps talking about? In my imagination it always includes a hail of bullets. Everyone applauds except Gia Zadora, who appears to be texting. Maybe she slipped her number to a local 9-year-old lothario looking to score points by getting to second base with a real live Gossip Girl extra.
Maison Manzo. Caroline and Albert return home and receive a warm welcome from sensuous sons Albie and Christopher. Caroline tells them the trip was “unbelievable”. She’s happy to see “nothing exploded” while she was gone, except, one can assume, the boys’ healthy young Italian-American loads during their respective masturbation sessions. Sorry for that Gasmii– I am all in a lather after watching big strapping hunka dumb Lane “discreetly”rub one out in the Big Brother shower. (If you’re watching this season, it’s definitely worth a Google, especially when he checks his palm for stray jizz clots afterwards!) Unlike you after the above over-share, Caroline and Albert are starving, so the boys offer to cook them something before their parents crash for the night. I love me some Brothers Manzo.
Villa Foreclosa. The Jew-Dices arrive and Joe tells the Goils to drop their suitcases in Le Grand Foyer and go to bed. “We had the best time, RIIIIIIIGHHHHT?!” Teresa rhetorically shrieks. Feral is in an oddly good mood: “I doan wanna go HOME!” she gurgles. Don’t fret, you’ll be off on another lavish adventure when you move to that cozy flophouse above the pizzeria. Joe tells Gia Zadora, who has collapsed dramatically on top of her suitcase, to go to bed “right now, before I kick your butt.” Teresa tells us that she can’t help it, she just loves Joe and the Goils no matter how crazy they “sometimes” drive her. And she’s very glad “to have the old Joe back.” Desperate Miserable Barking Tour Group Joe is way less fun than Desperate Steam Room DWI Joe.
Sated, the lemur returns to its nest.
Villa Laurita. Jacqueline unpacks and interviews that being home means re-immersing herself in the drama of Danielle and her assault charges against Ashley. “She pulled Danielle’s hair, she IS guilty of that,” Jacqueline tells us and any judges who happen to be watching. But Ashley didn’t threaten to murder Danielle “or anything else that Danielle is making up.” While I think of it, someone please give Chris and Jacqui’s adorable, extremely well-behaved 7-year-old son CJ a new toy or a trip to an amusement park or the Broadway cast recording of his choice. He has never acted like an asshole, not once, in the history of this show. He seems like a bright, quiet, considerate little boy and I applaud that. He’s the type to drop his entire allowance into a homeless person’s 7-11 cup.
“WILL WHINE FOR FOOD”
NEXT WEEK: Caroline says she’s tired of watching Teresa & Jacqueline “battle this lunatic” Danielle. Danielle vents/tantrums in front of Danny. Caroline texts Danielle. Danielle hires armed bodyguards before meeting Caroline for dinner.