Scott Baio is 46 and Pregnant: Hey, Whattya Know? He’s Not as Much of a Dick as You Thought

Moving in sucks for everyone, but for Scott Baio, it’s like showering in Auschwitz. To see Baio content would only be to see him sedentary for the rest of his life. Or dead.

Nice.

For $100 and a case of beer, Chachi convinced a couple college guys he met at a gas station to help him move into his goliath estate. Word on the street says he initially offered them autographs, and the college guys were, like, “Anything for Marco Scutaro!!!” Oops!

“GREAT JOB ON YOUR LIFTIN’, BRO!!!”

In a move that could only be described as surprising, Chachi actually pleaded, no, DEMANDED that Joanie not lift anything because, let’s be honest, no one wants to finish this season off with a dead baby.

Joanie comes off as far too bossy to have not been a wife yet, and Chachi is definitely feeling his blood boil all too early in this shaky relationship. “Unpack the kitchen! Blah blah blah!!! [Inaudible woman talk, etc.]…”

Ooh, don’t even get Joanie started on the packaged dessert confections she found in the kitchenware boxes. Packing isn’t Chachi’s forte. You know, like parenthood. And life.

“WTF is this? BAIO, WTF IS THIS?”

It’s an incredibly busy day and Chachi needs to go the bathroom, but Joanie denies his urination rights because THE HOUSE MUST BE UNPACKED IN THIS INSTANT. Chachi’s a real man, though, and defends his manhood with the perfect combination of warfare wordage.

“I need to go to the bathroom. I don’t want to pee on the floor.”

Leonitis, everyone.

Turns out Chachi was lying and just wanted some alone time. In fact, he would “trade my first born for any Alone Time.”

“Did I just say that?”

Yes, Chachi. Yes, you did.

While he was hiding, Chachi thought he’d take a crack at the stash of parenting books he’d recently collected. Then he put them down because they were “boring”, but we all know it’s because he can’t read.

“D… Durr… Drrr…”

In the box of books, he also pulled some old porno magazines. Most guys have old pictures of their ex-girlfriends in albums and secret stashes, but not Chachi. His exes are inside Playboy centerfolds and, well, even douchebags needa reminisce.

Oh man, that night was RI-DIIIICCCC….

To my disbelief, all the magazines were in color. I was seriously expecting some Betty Page action, or even some rare boob shots of Mary Pickford, but no, this guy actually doinked Pam Anderson. I mean, sure, we all have, but Chachi clearly isn’t as dated as he acts.

“Back in the good ol’ days, I was king of my castle.” Sorry, folks, that one writes itself.

*KRR-CHH*


The Baio Estate has an intercom system, and Joanie cannot operate this thing if her child’s life depended on it. It’s annoying even from the audience perspective, and now we can actually, no, FINALLY sympathize with Chachi.

“Scott?”

*KRR-CHH*

“Yeah?”

*KRR-CHH*

Repeat until Scott starts screaming obscenities.

This is one commercial break that called for an Advil. Or a bullet to America’s face.

The next day, Chachi attends his Daddies To Be class and the instructor begins the session by introducing something called an “Awareness Jar.” Anytime one of the guys in the class says something remotely offensive, a dollar goes into the jar.

“This is also your career’s urn, Scott.”

It’s an exercise of watching one’s mouth because babies absorb anything their parents say like a sponge, and while I really want Chachi’s baby to say “@#%* you, Dad” as her first words, society doesn’t.

Everyone’s “To Do (Before My Life Is Over Because I’m Gonna Be a Dad) List” was discussed, and Latino Guy was up first.

“I want to fix the heater. It is broken.”

Black Guy was, like, “I want to go to Cancun.”

White Guy was all about growing an organic garden to grow his own baby food.

Like me, Chachi was all, like, “WTF, THOSE ARE YOUR FINAL REQUESTS AS CHILDLESS MEN!?”

“Ya fuckin’ with me or are ya fuckin’ with me?”

Chachi threw more F-bombs than Dick Cheney on a bad day at the Senate, and, no lie, tossed his credit card into the Awareness Jar.

His balance could probably cover a day or two.

I’m starting to like this guy. At a perverse rate.

Chachi couldn’t fess up because he’s got an array of untelevised emotional issues. He can’t express himself in the class, just like he can’t express himself to Joanie, and the instructor assigns him homework in opening up more. For the first time ever, Chachi will try to communicate effectively.

Oh, blessed trifecta

Going back to his acting-like-a-complete-dick roots isn’t that hard for Chachi, and we can see this when he visits a boxing gym some days later to meet up with DA GUYS. Why a boxing gym? Because, according to Chachi, it’s where real men know how to handle their issues. Riiiight.

Johnny V (who, in a nutshell, resembles a shady used car salesman) shows up and says he’s going to get married. DA GUYS are visibly shaken, and scared for JV’s plausible spawn this society will likely inherit, but JV clears it up by really saying he WANTS to get married.

“…and I’m a douchebag.”

JV has a bunch of dates lined up, all thanks to the internet. Chachi encourages he find a girl who doesn’t talk. It’s also told to DA GUYS that Chachi’s having a girl. They all exchange “yay”s and “OMGZ!!!”s. This is a boxing gym?

“YAYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

In the middle of a match DA GUYS are watching, Chachi gets a phone call from Joanie, and compares it to having a mother ruin playtime by calling her son to dinner.

“YEAH, just like I did to Nicolette Sheridan!”

JV says it’s not so bad, but then again, this is a guy who WANTS to get married and is actually LOOKING FORWARD TO IT.

JV invites Joanie and Chachi on a “blind double date.” To avoid unpacking more stuff for the house, and to avoid more orders from Joanie, Chachi obliges.

“Oh, and can I stay on for the rest of the season?”

JV meets J&C at the table, and admits to sending old, fuzzy pictures of himself to his blind date. As the blind date approaches the table, JV embellishes a bunch of other truths and hopes that J&C follow his lead. The blind double date dinner starts off really well, but for some strange reason, JV keeps on referencing a bunch of Jewish terms and actually brings prayer to the table.

Mazeltov!

Joanie secretly gestures to the blind date to head off to the bathroom.

Female sign for “Yeah, uh, let’s get the fuck outta here.”


While the girls are doing whatever it is girls do together in restrooms, Chachi asks JV what the hell was up with all the Hebrewisms.

“JD. JewDate. It’s a special service.” JV reveals a bunch of Jewish terms written on the inside of his palms. Chachi really needs new friends. JV pleads, “Make me look like the Super Jew.” The ladies come back and JV starts singing something in Hebrew. It is the official buzzkill of the night and the blind date hottie leaves. For the record, she left when the salad was barely served.

“Yeah, I gotta go, uh, wash… my… washing thing…”

“I blew it.” No shit, JV.

Chachi admits that while he did feel bad for JV’s failed date, he felt a little jealous for him because at least JV could wallow in solitude without the sound of a woman breathing down his back. Ahh, Baio is so romantic.

The day after the blind date disaster, Chachi felt a little better about his situation, up until the point that he realized that he’s about to get married, about to have a child, and already paying the equivalent of Yemen’s GDP for his mortgage.

Joanie looks for Chachi in the house the next morning, and sort of forgets the presence of VH1 cameras when she opens up the bathroom door only to find her fiancé taking a crap. Chachi, again, not happy. TO THE MOON, JOANIE. TO THE MOON.

“When you’re done, do you think you could help me out with something?”

“Bitch, I have bigger things to drop right now.”

Chachi internalizes his aggression. Then he runs. To his car. Then drives. Really fast.

…to church.

“Wow, is it my skin or is this room FRIGGIN’ HOT????”


WTF, I KNOW, I KNOW. Admitting to a mental breakdown is one thing, but now Chachi is professing spiritual mercilessness and is now seeking the advice of a higher power. Unfortunately for Chachi, God doesn’t solve problems by striking His elbow on the jukebox of life. Eyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

In a confessional booth, Chachi asks if it’s a sin to wish that your wife was in a major pileup on the freeway that prevented her from ever coming home. I’m completely serious.

“Forgive me, father, for I’m an asshole.”

The priest says he shouldn’t think of those things because marriage is forever (lol) and that kind of partnership should be lifelong with love and support. He also suggested that Chachi always look to God for spiritual support and answers to his dumbfuck questions.

The priest left Chachi with some wisdom about opening up and being honest to the ones you love, and it rang all too reminiscent of the Daddies To Be class.

Later on, at the Baio Estate…

Choosing the paint color for the nursery proved to be catastrophically difficult as Joanie and Chachi couldn’t agree on one color, and it didn’t help that Joanie practically had an aneurism when choosing between tones like “grass green” and “grassier green.”

Chachi begged Joanie to “just pick a color.” A million sighs later, Chachi throws off his gloves and, whattyaknow, ACTUALLY OPENS UP.

AUTHENTIC EMOTION ALERT

AUTHENTIC EMOTION ALERT

AUTHENTIC EMOTION ALERT

If you have dry, RED eyes…

“In my Daddies To Be classes, you have to express your feelings. This whole baby thing, well, it’s like I’m disappearing. Everything I want to do, well, it feels like I can’t do them. I get bossed around by you. I don’t like it. The baby is crushing me.”

…!

Joanie says his feelings are completely normal for a soon-to-be father. Chachi is clearly relieved that she didn’t kick him in the balls, pack up, and leave. They hug each other. Aww.

“Are we done? Because my face is melting.”

Chachi feels bad about everything awful thing he’s ever said about Joanie. He’s ready for the future and is even more ready to leave the past as, well, the past. Chachi’s growing a heart! And compassion! And patience! More than anything, Chachi is …growing up!?

Check back every TUESDAY for the next Chachi recap — Next week, Chachi cries! I’m totally effing serious!