DanThat'sCool!

 

 

Raise your hands if you were expecting Wendy Williams and have no clue why Dr. Drew is here today.

 

 

 

 

 

 How You Doin’…? That’s what that lady says, right? Holler.

 

 

 

 

 

Seriously? I’ve got a freezer full of Italian sausages to nibble on and I’m sitting here? Mama’s got the munchies.

 

 

 

 

Because proper oral hygiene is very important and everyone should floss once a day. And you’re a Bitch.

 

 

 

 

Go on Google, you whore. Or Amazon…and then you can buy my book at the same time. Boom!

 

 

 

 

That’s a nice story, but I’m really gonna need you to keep all your Krazy on that side of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

Dammit. I think I left my Chapstick and Newports in the cab.

 

 

 

 

Sorry, NeNe Leakes.

(Bleep) is the new Bloop.

You and the rest of your Gone With The Wind Fabulous ATL girls just got skooled by Staten Island.  Watch, and learn.

Remember that episode of Meerkat Manor where all the lady ‘kats were fighting and and gnawing and spraying on the same piece of dead carcass and you couldn’t tell which one was making all the noise?  And there was fur and sharp teeth flying everywhere while that one scrawny boy ‘kat who got left behind at the burrow just kept running in circles trying to find the escape tunnel?

I give you Mob Wives: The Reunion.

With Dr. Drew Pinsky, for some reason.

After a season full of rehab, hurricanes, wedding gowns and beat downs, everyone was back together again for one last hurrah.  Except for Love Majewski, that is.

The Divine Miss M, along with her crazy face, crazy talk and crazy boobs, were all noticeably MIA from the pseudo-Andy Cohen couches, and the Doctor addressed the issue as soon as the theme song stopped playing.

Surrounded by a whole lot of  shiny lips and sparkly eye lids, Dr. Drew explained that everyone had decided it was “Best if we part ways,” which is basically just textbook HR Code for “We fired her NutWad a** for being such a loose cannon and making our VH1 insurance deductibles go through the roof.  Bitch was cray to the umpteenth power of cray.  No thank you.”

She no longer works for the company.  We wish her well.

And then we had the first video montage of the evening:  The Best of Love.

With all your favorite Love Hits, including Bath Salt Zombie and I’ll Stab You To Death.

Order before midnight tonight and you’ll also receive a free pair of nipple pasties and a shiv as your bonus gifts with purchase.  But hurry…quantities are limited.

Two minutes into the Reunion and Dr. Drew was already more nervous than he was when all those D List celebrities were OD’ing on his watch.

Renee didn’t like Love, so it was no loss.  Big Ang, who was working some seriously reflective Captain America ballistic fish scales, is still my secret girlfriend and can do no wrong.  She was not surprised that Love had been fired, but beyond that comment didn’t really seem to be paying much attention.  For most of the show Big Ang appeared to be trying to remember if she left the iron turned on back at home.

Karen, who traded off her signature ombré hair extensions with Ramona after the show went on hiatus, reminisced about punching out Love in a parking lot when she was only 17 years old.  Cuz that’s how they role in Staten Island.

Luckily, Drita was there to explain the difference between a Semi-Mental Case vs. just Keeping It Real.  Because there’s a difference when you pop off on someone in a parking lot.

If you’re mental, you might get a reduced sentence.  If you’re just Keeping It Real, then…well…you’re just Keeping It Real on a bitch’s face.  It’s Staten Island.

Gah, I love me some Mob Wives.

And then I’m not really sure what happened.  I only looked down for three seconds, and when I looked back up Ramona and Carla were going at it like junk yard dawgs.

But that’s part of the Mob Wives Magic.  One minute they can all be hanging out getting manis and pedis, and the next thing you know the censor button is going off like Morse Code on a sinking submarine.

Carla must have wagged her finger at Ramona, because all of the sudden the two of them were going off like bottle rockets from opposite couches as Dr. Drew looked around for all that security they had promised him in the pre-production meeting.

Ramona wanted Carla to sign a paper that she wouldn’t sue or call the cops if Ramona laid some smack down on her gossipy head.  Carla started flapping her hands and fingers around like she was bringing in aircraft, which sent Ramona off on a “Cop Caller” chant until Dr. Drew finally had to stand up and block Ramona’s view with his doc crotch.

Seriously.  Did he really think that would work?  Has he ever even watched this show?  Ramona just bobbed and weaved around his body like a heavyweight boxer getting ready for a KO until her face got uncomfortably near the good Doctor’s pinsky.

Yeah.  Rizzo was a little too close to the medical bag for a Bride-to-be.  Just saying.

As the two of them screeched at each other behind his back, DD tried to introduce the next montage:  Drita’s Birthday Party.

The one with the big Love vs. Carla beat down and all those bald guys running around trying to pull them both apart while people threw drinks in their faces and went off like banshees.  That birthday party.

Then it was back to Ramona and Carla, who were still having the same fight they were having when we last saw them.

Ramona called Carla a Racist, because she allegedly refers to every single person of color as “You People,” which I believe the Rev. Al Sharpton frowns upon.   A modern day KKK was pretty much how she described the situation.  Yeeouch.

Karen quickly mentioned that Carla was rude and snippy.  Carla then did some more hand signals and went in for the kill by bringing up Family.  Yes…with a capital “F.”

Oooh, Girl.  You do NOT bring up Family.

You don’t do it on The Real Housewives of New Jersey with that Manzo lady, and you certainly don’t do it when you’re Daddy’s in the Mob.  Karen even tried to make the point clear one more time before she finally blurted out that Carla wanted the Gravano Family to save her own father back in the day.

Carla claimed to not know much about what Karen meant, because she doesn’t talk “Mob” like the rest of “These Girls.”  Karen pointed out that she could easily go on Google and find out what the F*** she was talking about, and then Google changed the locks on its corporate headquarter offices.

At some point there was a lot of shizzle being tossed around regarding Ramona’s ex stealing money from her own father, but I forget exactly when Carla lobbed that fast ball at Ramona’s head.  There was so much shade being thrown at every turn that it doesn’t really matter, so you can pretty much just stick that zinger in wherever you please and it will fit like a CSI glove.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.  A buttah knife.

That’s right.  They went there.  They brought up the buttah knife scene again, where Carla had flipped a switch on Renee and threatened to cut her throat and let all her junkie pills spill out onto the table.

Dr. Drew asked Renee if she had felt threatened by the buttah knife.  Seriously.

Have you ever tried to spread butter straight from the refrigerator on a piece of toast?  If you can’t even do that, how are you going to cut someone open?  Dude.  Please.

Carla admitted that she may have overstepped her bounds by calling Renee a Junkie, but that the man she once dated had not been 100% married, whatever that meant.  Even Karen got a little WTF with that statement.  Nothing like a WTF Mob Wife Face.

Ramona countered by declaring that her ex-husband had been officially separated from his wife when she had started seeing him, which I guess would make her relationship come in somewhere around 99% when compared with Carla’s situation and ultimately make Ramona the winner for that Round.

MobMath is hard.  Luckily, before I had time to do tally the calculations, Ramona went off on Carla again.  And this time she wanted to jump her, sit on her, break off a rib and use it to pick her own teeth after eating Carla’s face like prosciutto luncheon meat.

Don’t try this at home, kids.  It’s strictly for role models.

To lighten the mood a little, Doc then gave us all a little history lesson on the Drita, Karen and Ramona triangle.  Today they all get along.  As of noon today, anyway.

That’s about as far out as I’ll commit to that one.

The next video montage was all about Renee’s Addiction.

We relived some of her time in rehab, got a grocery list of the pills she used to ingest and then welcomed her son  AJ to the couch.  Bro was still a little on the chillaxed, whatever dude side, but AJ has always stuck by his mom regardless of any bad choices she may have made in glitter blue eye shadow or sedatives.

AJ still didn’t really agree with addiction being an illness, though.  Just Stop.  Stop and then go play video games.  It’s that easy.  From the mouths of babes, I guess.

But the guy loves his mom and was headed to Miami, because it was time to move on and get a real job.  And Prada makes some sweet sunglasses.  That, too.

Then it was nothing but ManTalk and DirtyTalk for the rest of the Reunion.

Drita had let Lee back into her home now that he was out of the Halfway House.  She has guilt about what they put their children through over the years.  Lee, on the other hand, still didn’t have any guilt about cheating on her, so I wouldn’t be adding any other names to the mortgage paperwork just yet, honey.

Carla then got a quick moment to snark on Joe and his Carla 2.0 girlfriend Raquel before Dr. Drew introduced Karen’s Dbag ex Dave Seabrook to the couch.

At least this time he wasn’t chewing gum at the very front of his mouth like they do at Sports Bars when they’re checking out chick’s hooters.  But he’s still Dave.  And he’s still dating ice cold Cyborg Rebecca, who Karen has come to except but still not really understand.

Dave kinda sorta admitted that he might have been wrong for either not telling Karen about Rebecca earlier, or for leaving one of Rebecca’s thongs hanging from Karina‘s Hello Kitty bedroom ceiling fan.  It was a rather forced apology, so it wasn’t really clear where he was going with it.  But better than nothing, as they say.

Karen confirmed that she was still with music mogul Storm, and that he was just fine.

Oh yeah.  Just fine.  Big Daddy fine.  Single and Ready to Mingle fine.  With a lip lick.

MmmMmm.  Mama likes.

And then it was on to Ramona’s wedding.  If that ever happens.

Despite all the other women rolling their eyes and trying to explain how tough it is being a Prison Wife, Ramona was still dead set on marrying the incarcerated Joe Sclafani, whether he could be make it to the chapel or not.

It might be at the federal prison.  It might be at the Elks Lodge with paper cups.  It could be this year.  It could be this afternoon, so excuse me if I have to cut taping a little short and scoot over to city hall.

They have no idea when this is all going to go down.

But as for getting down…never.  Because you can’t do the nasty in a federal prison.  It’s a law.  So no conjugal visits.

After the camera crew all breathed a sigh of relief, the horny talk got Drita a little giggly and she tried to explain why she had compared Lee’s return home to having a freezer full of fresh, hard, ready to eat produce in the shape of a man’s nibblies.

According to the Food Pyramid, a person should have 3 to 5 servings a day if you know what I mean, and Drita was ready to go down on those things like a starving rabbit.

It was right about here when Big Ang finally woke up and Karen swallowed her gum.

Seriously.  I don’t think even I’m old enough to be watching this show anymore.

And that’s that.

Hurricane Sandy.  Hurricane Majewski.

Trust me.  Staten Island will rebuild and come back next season, bigger and stronger and louder and blingier than ever.

Bloop.

I mean…(Bleep.)

 

 

What the (bleep)? If I’d known this was a costume party I would have dressed up. Dammit.

 

 

 

 

Mission Control: Initiate bat s*** crazy launch sequence in 3…2…1…

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have lift off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whatever. Mama needs a cigarette. This way, boys…

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGodOhMyGod! Did you see? It’s Big Ang. I Love Her!

 

 

 

 

 

I’m buggin’! Didn’t anybody read the (bleepin’) invite? It said costumes!

 

 

 

 

 

I know, right? Trust me…I’d rather be smashing this vodka bottle on your face.

 

 

 

Seriously.

Why do these women keep having parties?

Haven’t they learned anything in three seasons?  Parties = Fat Lips.

And not the Big Ang ”Boop Boop” good kind.

The Season Finale of Mob Wives was everything that we’ve come to know and love about Staten Island over the years.  Big hair, big earrings, big attitudes and big throw downs with even bigger bouncers swooping in from seemingly nowhere to break it all up before anyone loses an eyeball or an extension.

The Mob Wives we know and love was finally back.  And just under the wire, thank you.

All season long, the gossipy Love vs. Carla train had been threatening to careen out of control, taking down any innocent bystanders unlucky enough to be standing on the platform when it jumped the tracks.  It just needed a catalyst.

And nothing gets a Mob Wives party going like…well…like a party, I guess.

Whenever these women all gather together, it’s asking for trouble.  Big trouble.  And Drita‘s 1980′s-themed birthday party was no exception.

They may be living in a Material World, but trust me…Love is a Battlefield.

(And that, kids, is called a smooth as buttah segue.  The More You Know.)

We started out with Ramona and Karen on a search for some vintage ’80s Wear, which didn’t look much different than anything from the Spring 2013 Staten Island Collection.

But whatever.  We don’t judge here.

It was their first time together since the infamous Pre-Nup Party that Karen had arranged, which had either been an innocent chance for the women to collect valuable financial information or an opportunity for Karen to sneak in a couple of pokes at Ramona’s upcoming nuptials.  Nobody was really sure what that whole evening had been all about, if you asked around.

But thanks to loose cannon Love Majewski, nobody had much time to worry about any potential ulterior motives because they were all too distracted by her going completely Cray Cray on one of Ramona’s friends who had just happened to look her way from the other side of the bar that evening.

I mean Crayola Cray Cray.  Full Box of 64 Cray Cray.  With a built-in shiv sharpener.

I’ll Stab You To Death Cray Cray.

And now Love had been invited to Drita’s party.  The same party that Carla had been invited to.  Both of them were invited.  You might want to get out your brass knuckle iPhone, open the calculator app and do the math on that one.

Needless to say, both women were a little on edge thinking about how the whole thing could go down, but Karen felt that she could tell Love to simply chill out at the party and it would happen, in much the same way I can will a herd of Pamplona cattle to come to a dead halt during the Running of the Bulls.  Because I can do that, you know.

Good luck with that, Karen.

Speaking of Carla.  She and soon-to-be Ex Joe met up for some pizza and legal talk.

Divorce.  The least of her problems, as she quickly stated.  Turns out that even the end of her marriage was less stressful than the ongoing Majewski gossip mill, and now that Love was publicly accusing Joe and his Dad of stealing the Angel Wings logo right off of her wrist tattoo while she slept, the whole thing was just about to boil over.  You wanna come at me?  Come at me.

Next we hit the highway with the Birthday Girl herself, cruising around town, talking hands-free on her cell and experiencing a mash-up of black & white Film Noir flashbacks as she prepared for the arrival of husband Lee, who was due to be released from the Halfway House in a matter of weeks.

Hearing him on the other end of the phone always messed with Drita’s head a bit, and this time was no different.  Lee knew it was time to make a change, and Drita was willing to risk it all one more time for the sake of her family.

Granted, she risked it all ‘one more time’ the LAST time he came out of jail and then ended up back in the slammer after approximately 2 1/2 hours of freedom.  But maybe second time’s a charm, because he sounded pretty sincere.  And Drita really wanted to get some ManCandy back in her house before she lost her mind and chewed through all the throw pillows.  So they both agreed to give this whole thing one mo’ try.

As Drita was getting all giggly and distracted on the road, Ramona and her white teeth were across town trying on gowns for a wedding that may or may not actually take place.  And even if it does, there’s no guarantee that there’ll actually be a groom in any of the album photos.

The whole thing is a little iffy.  Boyfriend “Joe Boy” Sclafani was still working on getting permission for his quickie release (…get your mind out of the gutter, please…) which would then trigger a domino effect wedding extravaganza that would need to be pulled off within 48 hours or so.  Which, as has been noted previously, is barely enough time for the caterer to thaw out any of the good stuff.

But Ramona was determined to find a dress and get married, even if Joey had to Skype the whole thing in from the prison’s workout yard.  Not an ideal situation, but if worse came to worst at least you know the groom’s party would be seriously jacked-up.  Like on HBO.  Just don’t get me started on the Bachelor Party, if you know what I mean.

Ramona took her BBFF (…Boy Best Friend Forever…duh…) Sammy to Bridal Reflections and forced him to sit through more costume changes than a Celine concert until she finally found the perfect gown.

Despite not having the solid support of friends (…I’m talking to you, Gravano…) or family (…I’m talking to you, la Rizzo famiglia…) Ramona loved Joey and couldn’t wait to marry her man.  Sammy just smiled a lot.

Then it was time to get ready to Par-tay.

I guess everyone had their own interpretation of what the ’80s were like, because I’m not really sure where they were all going with their costume choices.  Big Ang hit the salon for some big hair, and then wrapped herself in white leather and a fur coat that I swore she wore last week.  But she’s Big Ang.  She can do no wrong.

While Karen and Ramona were getting their hair and makeup applied, no one had yet heard from Love.  Was she still coming to the party?

Karen had received a text earlier in the day, and in it Love casually mentioned that she may have broken her hand when she slammed it through a wall and hit a steel beam after imagining that she had seen Carla’s face appear in the sheet rock.  The way Elvis or Jesus faces always show up in bags of Cheetos.

Except it was Carla’s face.  And it was in sheetrock.

For all you mathematicians out there…Cray to the umpteenth power of Cray.

Karen hit Love up on her Sidekick, who instantly picked up and already appeared to be sharpening another box of Crayolas with her good hand.  She had broken six bones, but didn’t give a F*** and was more than ready to unleash on Carla if she so much as pointed a finger in her face.  Love then proceeded to ramble on in some language that I’d never heard before and then hung up on Karen.

Ramona blurted out that she was afraid Love and Carla would start fighting like sea urchins, which made such little sense that I had to get up and walk around for a minute just to decompress.

Sometimes, I tell you.  These women.

Finally…the party!

Carla and Big Ang showed up first.  As in…nobody else was there yet.  Apparently all the traffic lights worked in their favor that night.

Ramona and Karen arrived next, all Material Girl-ed up and ready to get their MTV Veejay on.  Hey…at least they looked like they were in costume.

I’m still not sure who Carla and Big Ang were channeling.  Carla kind of looked like she was wearing Cher‘s Turn Back Time bodysuit, but you couldn’t see her butt cheeks and she wasn’t straddling a warship cannon.  But I think it was Cher.

Drita was late to her own party, but she had a ton of bracelets to put on…so cut her some slack.  Right behind her were Renee and BFF Nikole.  Renee’s ginormous hair and Nikole’s exposed boobs actually arrived first, followed shortly thereafter by the rest of their costumes.  Just.  Whoa.

Renee didn’t really want to be there with Carla, but she was taking one for the team as they stood on opposite sides of the room and watched each other like it was a turf war.

Or stray cats in heat marking bushes.

And then the Crazy Plane landed.  Put your trays in the upright position and pray that the oxygen masks fall from the overhead compartments.

Love was in the hizzle.  In a cast.  And already losing her shizzle.

Before the first appetizer, she announced that she wanted to rip Carla’s face off like a Bath Salt Zombie.  And then eat it.  Maybe some birthday cake would have taken the edge off, honey.

Drita and Big Ang then suddenly decided that they needed a smoke and left the building.

Really?  Now?  Let’s review.  A couple of things you should never do:  Leave a candle unattended.  Leave a baby in the car.  Leave relaxer on your hair too long.  And leave the building when Love Majewski and Carla Facciolo are in the same room.

Karen tried to play Switzerland and complimented Love on her behavior.  Wrong.  Love wasn’t behaving.  She was waiting.  Because she demands respect.  Expects Respect.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T.  Find out what it means to me.

For whatever reason, Karen then decided that she should sit Carla and Love down at the same table to discuss their issues.  Nice work, Gravano.

Boom.

Love loses her shiz, cracks Carla across the face with her cast and then the whole party went total Mob Mosh Pit in under 7 seconds.

Screaming.  Yelling.  Hair pulling.  Ramona chanting ‘No Fighting No Fighting’ like that would make a bit of difference in the grand scheme of things.

Full disclosure:  I’ve watched that scene about 100 times so far, and I have no idea where all those security guys came from so fast.  Trap doors?  Ceiling panels?

Backwards down the wall like Batman and Robin used to do?  BAMF-ing out of thin air like Nightcrawler did in the X-Men movie?

No clue.

But there were a million of them.  And mostly all bald for some reason.  All pushing and shoving and knocking over all the skinny VH1 sound guys who were just trying to keep their wobbly microphone sticks in the air.

Karen lost her nutty when some big doof wouldn’t let her near Carla.  She didn’t want Carla to think it was a set up and needed to find her.  (Wasn’t this the same script from the time everyone pounded on Drita?)

Carla’s hand was bleeding like a mutha.  Drita and Big Ang came back in from having a Newport and thought they were at the wrong party.  Then Drita lost her nutty.

There was a lot of nutty losing going on that night.

Finally, one of the bald guys managed to pry Love off of Carla’s face and separated the two of them.  Drita took Carla to a meeting in the ladies room while Karen went outside and jumped in Love’s getaway car to lay down some smack.

Love.  Is.  Insane.

End of story.

Back inside, it was Renee of all people, who came to Carla’s aid before she bled out on the carpet.  Before her time at Transitions, Nurse Renee knew that vodka could numb anything, so she doused Carla’s hand with liquor and patched her up in a snap.  It was almost like they kinda sorta bonded and made up in an emergency triage tent.

Deep down, Renee is a good person, and she proved it to Carla.  They let the building happier than when they arrived.

Drita stuck around to have her cake and pretty much set the building on fire with the biggest sparkler candle evah.

Love and her bag full o’ crazy squealed off down the highway, never to be seen again.

(Spoiler Alert:  Love just got fired from next season, and un-invited to the recent Reunion Show taping.  So see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya.)

Karen left, more determined than ever to get her father out of prison.  Ramona set her sights on a Summer wedding, with or without a groom.

And Big Ang?  She likes the Wise Guys, but not the drama.

Staten Island just survived Hurricane Sandy and the Mob Wives.

That is (bleeped) up.

See you at the Reunion, bitches.

 

 

Sorry, Doc. I don’t really remember the accident, but when I came to my air bags were a little sore.

 

 

 

 

OMG. They’re like totally adorbz! Like little prison cell bars made out of candy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeeesh.

 

 

 

 

 

True. Your head almost went through the windshield. But your equilibrium is off because those things are freakin’ out to here, honey.

 

 

 

Looks like you’re in luck, ma’am. These white orchids are in season, and this vase is bullet-proof.

 

 

 

 

Let the Bitch try and come after me. Have you seen her run? Those things are freakin’ out to heah.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s obvious, girls. The chambermaid did it. In the library. With a wine glass.

 

 

 

Ladies and Gentlemen…hide your buttah knives.

Carla Facciolo is back in the building.

That’s right.  After being noticeably MIA during last week’s episode, Love Majewski‘s arch nemesis has returned.  And just in time.

Word on the street was that Carla had been too busy talking s*** about Love to show up for any restaurant tapings lately.  But, of course, that is just alleged hearsay based on a random sampling of Love’s friends from each of the five Boroughs.

Carla says No.  Love says Yes.  Over.  And.  Over.

And you know what everyone else says.  Gossip is all fun and games until someone loses a big, dangly earring.

Love’s short Stab-A-Lover temper is the thing of legends.  Known to bring more than one grown man to tears, it is something that would normally only manifest itself in someone who was dropped on their head as a baby.

Or in Love’s case, hit by an 18 wheeler in their adult life.

As we tuned into MobBiz This Week, we found out that at some point in the past Love had suffered a traumatic head injury as a result of a freak automobile accident and that the injury may now be partially to blame for her noticeably short fuse.

Turns out that when her car was hit, she somehow flew out the window to safety, only to be hit a second time by a passing transport vehicle and its trailer full of whatever.

Wait.  What?  If this was a Warner Bros. cartoon, couldn’t you just picture Love being flattened like a piece of paper and becoming the inspiration for the invention of the Naked Mud Flap Girl?  You know…the one that you always see on the back of Costco trucks when they blow past you in a snowstorm and cover your windshield with two inches of brown slush on the one day you forget to refill the washer fluid.

But this is real life.  Sorta.  So instead of being pressed topless into vinyl like Silly Putty on the Sunday comics (…Google it, kids…) Love now suffers from some form of Post Traumatic Face On The Windshield or something.  I forget exactly what they called it.

And according to Dr. Igor Stiler, the physician she checked in with at the start of the episode, it could be a key piece of the puzzle as to why she is so irritable and short tempered.

Irritable and short tempered to the point where sometimes she doesn’t even know how she ends up back home in her own bed after a night of clubbing, wearing only one stiletto and clutching a fist full of bad Staten Island weave.

As Love relived a few violent blackout episodes where she came to just in time to find herself holding some poor drunk chick’s head in a toilet bowl, Dr. Igor scribbled what I believe were the words Help Me on his notepad and nervously adjusted his Kris Kringle eyeglasses.  And you wonder why he kept his door open the entire time.

Less traumatizing were the Arizona goodbye hugs as Karen and Ramona got ready to head back East.

Karen and Karina and Baby Daddy Dave had found some middle ground on the whole long distance parenting thang, though Karen still hoped to bring Karina back to SI at some point.  But for now, things were running a little smoother, though she had yet to figure out if Dave’s new girlfriend Rebecca was a cyborg or not.

Rebecca seemed nice enough, even though Karen had never actually seen the woman blink during a conversation.  But it was time to leave Sweet Home Arizona, so the Mystery of the BeccaBot would have to wait for another day.

There was a lot of Love Said/Carla Said action going on this week.  The first round was when Drita dropped by Carla’s place to rehash the gossip again and it was revealed that Carla had never actually met this Love person.

Carla knew ‘of her’ from the one month that Carla’s old boyfriend had been bangin’ her before he started bangin’ Carla.  But that was it.

Sloppy Seconds was their only connection.

Yeah.  The whole discussion was pretty much Klassy Like Dat.

Carla felt that Love was jealous of her, just like every other woman on Staten Island.

I know I was totally jealz of all those HomeGoods snowmen Santas that Carla had cluttering up every corner of the house.  Holy Seasonal Hoarder Fire Trap, Batman.

And then there was Jiton.  Girl, pleez.

Half Sicilian.  Half Black.  One Third Basketball Wives.  Two Thirds classic hip hop Vjay from back in the day.  And 100% sassy with no frizz or fly aways.

Renee‘s friend basically just fell right off one of the archive photos in the VH1 lobby and started running her own shoe store.  And now Renee wanted in on the action.

In the past they had tossed around ideas about creating a Graziano shoe line, but at the time Renee was in her Hot Mess Phase and footwear had to go on the back burner while she focused on sedatives and meltdowns.  But now that we’re talking the new and improved Renee 2.0, it was time to finally get MobCandy shoes up and running.

Jiton knew people who knew people, and was going to help Renee get started in the shoe biz.  Cuz there’s no business like shoe business, right?

Yeah…old joke.  But you still read it in Ethel Merman‘s voice, didn’t you?  Suckahs.

And speaking of putting on a shoe…or a show…

Ramona and her two little Ramonettes headed over to the Coral House Banquet Facility to start planning a potentially shotgun wedding.

Regardless of how everyone else on the East Coast felt about them moving forward with their nuptials, Ramona was determined to marry her incarcerated fiancé “Joe Boy” Sclafani.  Even if he can’t get that 7 day release from prison.

It’s not like the groom really has to show up, right?

Ramona and Joe Boy are clearly juggling a lot of What Ifs with this one, and nobody really knows how it will all play out by the summer.  If Joe Boy even gets approved for a release, it will only be with a 48 hour notice, which doesn’t really give anybody much time to thaw out the appetizers or make party favors, much less shine up your ankle monitor and press a tux.

Add to that a court ordered pair of armed guards and all those petty house arrest regulations, and it clearly doesn’t make for your typically faaaabulous David Tutera wedding extravaganza.

But Butch The Wedding Impresario (…no lie…his name…) ain’t no David Tutera.

He specializes in this kind of stuff.  Weddings and Security.  Don’t ask.  Just pick out your flowers and your place settings and nobody gets hurt.

It was like that.  And they did.  Even down to what color tablecloth was going under the lace overlay.  Blue.  Joe’s favorite color.  Just in case he actually shows up.

All that excitement called for some pizza, so Karen headed to her cousin Rena‘s joint for some pepperoni and cheese.  And our weekly Mob Wives Head Scratch Moment.

Two of them actually, if you want to count the fact that Tony’s Pizza still takes Discover.  Is that card still around or was that just an old sticker on the counter?  I can honestly say that I don’t know one person with a Discover card in their wallet.

Karen and Rena are pretty tight.  Which is oddly impressive considering that it was Rena’s Dad and Peter Gotti who travelled to Arizona all those years ago to try and kill Karen’s Dad Sammy “The Bull” Gravano.

You heard me.  Kill him.  Like with guns and exploding stuff.

And you thought your family was F***d up during the Holidays.

The whole killing your own family thing was a little out of my comfort zone, but Karen and Rena didn’t seem to have any problems getting past it.  They actually seemed a little more concerned about which topping was their favorite after all these years.

Anytime you feel like scratching your head is fine by me.  Whenever they cross that line into being irritated because someone got caught doing something ridiculously illegal and/or criminal and yet somehow the Feds are the Bad Guys, I just wait for the moment to pass.  Or for the judicial system to make crime legal and set all the Wise Guys free at once like when everyone escapes from Arkham Asylum in the Batman video game.

I just can’t.

I did like the cartoony tee shirts all the pizza guys were wearing, if that counts for anything after all that awkwardness.

Then all the Wives really started winging it.  As in Angel Wings.  Or AngelWingate, as CNN will soon refer to it on their screen crawls.

Carla was first.  She dropped by ex-Joe‘s Dad’s Day Spa for a quick buff.  The place was called Angel Skin.  Remember that for later.

Joe’s Dad used to be a highly respected Gyno kind of guy who actually saw Drita‘s junk when he delivered her two babies, so when he retired from all those lady parts he decided it would be nice to tighten everyone up above the neck for a change.

So Dad opened up his own Day Spa.

That’s about all that really mattered in that scene.  Hope you paid attention and noticed the upside down Angel Wings on the store window, because there’ll be a test at the end.

Next up, it was Drita and Love’s turn to wing it.

They barely had time to sit down at a nail salon before Love started in on some more Carla bashing, letting Drita know that Carla had somehow stolen the wings from Love’s wrist tattoo and given them to Joe’s Dad for his spa windows.  Bitch.

See how it’s all coming together?  The Circle of Life.

Turns out that Love had personally designed her tattoo, so it was clear that Carla had stolen the wings, right?  Because they looked exactly the same, and they were clearly right up there on the spa window and business cards.  Even though Carla was already on record as saying that she had never met Love, much less snooped around her wrists trying to steal an apparently copyrighted doodle.

Plus I’m pretty sure that Victoria’s Secret and the Bible were using angel wings long before Love even thought about hitting up a tattoo parlor.  But whatev.

But Love swore that Carla stole her wings.  And Love’s still got a serious case of windshield head, so I’m not messing with her right now.

And then randomly, Renee and AJ went rock wall climbing.  That’s really all I have to say on the matter, except for mentioning that Renee kind of looked like a backwards 1960′s Batman when she was trying to walk down the wall on a rope.

Three Batman references in one blog post.  A new record.  Now I’m done.

Renee had to hurry and get down off that thing so she could go meet Jiton again and check out the progress on MobCandy.

Who knew that Elton John and Liberace were Jiton’s shoe designers?

Just.  Whoa.  Sparkles and stilts and feathers and crystals and chandelier dingles and something on the toes that looked like you stuck the front of your shoe in a container of 14K gold Ben & Jerry ice cream jimmies.

The screw-on/screw-off spike heel was a nice touch, too.  Just in case you lose your ice pick and need to make someone pay back a racing bet.

Gah.  I love me some Mob Wives.

The only way to finish off the evening was with some wine.  Wines by Wives, actually.  A holiday wine tasting event with a logo that looked exactly like a TV Guide ad for the old That Girl show.

And what are the chances that Carla would join the one wine club that hosts all their events at the mansion pictured on the box cover of the Clue board game?

Seriously.  Did you see that place?  I was waiting for some hysterical maid to run in at any moment, screaming that someone had just found Colonel Mustard’s dead body in the conservatory.  And a wrench was missing from the tool shed.

Wine, anyone?

As Big Ang and Drita got tastefully liquored up, the whole AngelWingate controversy broke and Carla flipped a major nutty.  And swore.  A lot.

Carla wasn’t scared of Love.  Bring it on.  You come for me?  I’ll come for you.

And a Mob Wives holiday classic was born.

Every time Carla swears, a Day Spa gets its wings.