Posts Tagged ‘blk water’

The Real Housewives Of New Jersey Reunion Part Two: There Is A Whole Lot Of Crazy On Display, On Display. Everything Is Not Coming Up Rosie.

Monday, October 8th, 2012


Yo. Check it out, ladies. Last year’s glitter eye shadow and I still look hotter than all of you.




One of these days, Alice. POW! Right in the Fabulish kisser!




The only things that can penetrate my Delusional Force Field are magazine royalty checks and body glitter. Bam!




It ain’t Britney, bitch.





I don’t ever like using the C-word or wearing poorly fitted 1970′s Brady Bunch spread collars.



Now that you all mention it, I’ve never seen Joe and Rosie in the same room at the same time. It’s like Clark Kent and Superman…


Ring the bell and grab some snacks, because it’s Jersey Fight Club: Round Two.

The Real Housewives of New Jersey Reunion just smeared our screens with more Glitter eyes and Twitter lies for the second of its three installments, and to say that the Borgata hotel, casino, spa and mud wrestling mat was explosive would be a bit of an understatement.

Even though the confrontations were already growing increasingly heated as Part Two began, the chill in the air still rivaled the best granita di caffè con panna from any 1/16th Italian Olive Garden drink special board.

(The above clearly being a pointless sentence, inserted purely to make me appear more worldly and bilingual than I really am.  I don’t even drink coffee, people.)

We picked right up where we left off last week with the rampaging Butchzilla Rosie Pierri thrashing her way around backstage, toppling tripod lights and threatening to cut out Teresa‘s tongue for talking smack about her deceased father.

Rosie’s sister Kathy and her new nose had just finished calling Teresa’s mother a F***ing liar (…nice talk, by the way.  You eat cannolis with that mouth?…) which in turn had catapulted OK Magazine’s go-to cover girl Tre into some dead dad bashing.  In her defense, it wasn’t so much the bashing as the fact that she was digging up a dead man.

Oh, that crazy Tre.

Somebody wasn’t liking it, and Rosie blew a backstage nutty that managed to drown out 5 fully mic’d Housewives sitting directly under those fuzzy overhead sound sticks.

Trust me.  You do not want to cut off Rosie’s float during Pride Week, people.  Just let her pass and then cross against the lights, or find another way to get where you’re going.  Because Rosie has a temper.  And Honey Badger Rosie don’t give a s***.

She’s the most loving, squishiest teddy bear of a girl you can imagine, but she’ll pop your head like a beer cap if you cross her or her family.  And she proved it as she slammed her way around the maze of electrical wires and lighting equipment.

Have you seen those mini GoPro cameras that kids duct tape to their helmets before they skateboard or jump out of airplanes?  It was like that.  But more spastic.

Rosie was off the GPS back there.

Luckily, newly skinny Lauren Manzo and her still a little snug leather dress managed to calm Rosie down and convince her to drop her weapons before sending her out to the couches to face off with Teresa.

Not that the other women would have noticed any artillery, because they were having a pretty major meltdown of their own.

As Yoda Caroline tried to explain to Teresa what 15 Minutes of Fame meant, one of the camera guys pulled a Split Screen.  And if we’ve learned anything from Rosie O’Donnell and Elisabeth Hasselbeck, it’s that the Split Screen means it’s Going Down Town Tonight.  Going fast.  And going hard.

Melissa and her (…alleged…) copy cat eye shadow blasted Teresa for trying to play the victim card, which Melissa claimed as her own.  Throw her a bone, for crying out loud.  If she can’t have the glitter look, she wanted the victim card.

“You don’t get to play victim! I’m the victim!”  Oh snap.  Girlfriend better stop screaming or she won’t be able to sing on Seacrest next week.

(And she don’t lip synch, bitch…stay tuned for that update.)

Rosie calmed down and made it out to chat with the Reality Maestro Andy Cohen, who only 10 minutes into the show was more than likely already sitting in wet pants.  He tried to lighten the mood a little by showing a batch of clips featuring Kathy and Rosie being supportive sisters and hugging it out, and then touched on Rosie’s coming out story.

After a few back and forths with Teresa, Rosie (…who may have the best WTF face in New Jersey…) was scooted off stage, but only after Andy clarified that she was indeed Single and Ready to Mingle again.

One of the stocky girls who carried in the Craft Services food table dropped something backstage right about then.  Just saying.

Then it was off to Napa and that whole winery vacation mess.

Teresa denied purposely leaving Kathy out of her warm & fuzzy toast at the end of their road trip.  She swore that it was just an oversight.  Since her cousin was only sitting approximately 4 chairs away from her during that entire dinner, I think she’s gonna have a hard time finding a jury for that one, if you know what I mean.

I tried to count how many times poor Andy snapped his head back and forth during this exchange.  Dude’s eyeballs looked like an Atari Pong game. (Put down your Xbox 360 and Google it, kids.  I can’t do all the work for you.)

After a delightful exchange that began with Teresa calling BS on Kathy’s fake nose and lips and ended with Mrs. Wakile apologizing for dropping the F-bomb on Teresa’s mother, Tre moved back to her original couch position, which allowed for all of us to not only catch a widescreen glimpse of her butt before she plopped herself down, but also put her dead center back in front of camera #2.

Yeah.  I think she knows what she’s doing.

For someone who spent the entire season proclaiming that she was done with Teresa, Mama Manzo certainly ate up a lot of Reunion screen time trying to pound some sense into her head.  As everyone relived the last night in Napa when Jacqueline faked narcolepsy and the Boys all pretended to be so far away on the other side of the room that they couldn’t hear what was going on, the Manzo Matriarch definitely got more than 1/16th Italian on Teresa’s a**.

The C-word even came back up again.  Not Caroline.  The other one.  The nasty one.

Andy nervously asked Tre if she felt that Caroline had bullied her all season, as some Twitter Twatters had suggested.  She quickly said yes, but then couldn’t come up with one example to support her accusations, no matter how many times Caroline bullied her to answer.  Not playground bullying.  Just Brownstone bullying.  The usual.

Then someone said the D-words.  Plural.  And that always gets an even bigger rise out of a Jersey Housewife than the C-word does.

Danielle (Staub) and Dina (Manzo.)

I know, right?  It is kind of amazing that after (…how many?…) seasons being MIA these two women still have a grip around everyone’s neck.  I mean, really.

Is Danielle even alive?  I guess she must be, since everyone keeps talking about her tweet.  (…I said tweet.  Get your mind out of the gutter…)  And if you don’t need someone to go to iParty or your cable company doesn’t broadcast HGTV would you even recognize Dina on the street?

But you just say either one of the D-words and it’s a guaranteed volcanic eruption.

When it was obvious that this one was going nowhere after about 20 minutes of soft core bullying, even Caroline gave up on the topic and it was back to Melissa.

Who can sing, thank you very much.  And she proved it, just to shut up her sister-in-law.

Over the last two seasons, Teresa had made it blatantly clear in pretty much any media outlet she could get her claws into that she didn’t feel that Melissa could sing without the aid of auto tune and an MP3 iPod lip synch track, so La Gorga finally called her out on the accusations.

It was almost like watching an episode of Glee the way Melissa just broke into song in the middle of a sentence.  But the girls on Glee don’t have so much boob showing, and nobody danced, so I knew it was still RHONJ.  But it was almost like Glee.  Really.

Since everything somehow needs to be centered around Teresa, as soon as Melissa finished her 16 measures of Top 40 acapella it was time for Mrs. Giudice to lay down a few beats to prove that anyone can be a singer.

Or a cookbook author, apparently.

When Melissa accused Teresa of tweeting photos of food that her mother had actually phantom cooked, the whole thing spiraled into more D-words, which spiraled into Melissa’s secret Twitter convo with Danielle a hundred years ago.  Which then spiraled into a blurry flashback to that classic RHONJ Reunion where Teresa totally lost her marbles on Danielle and tossed poor Raggedy Andy aside like…well…like Raggedy Andy.

Is Bitch Bettah?  Just asking.

Then Teresa suddenly proclaimed that she had ‘let go of all the crazy’ and was now free of Caroline and Jacqueline.  Halleloo!  To complete the exorcism, she dropped to her knees and waved her hands in the air like those women on the National Geographic channel do when a Coke bottle from America washes up on shore.

Let’s just say it got cray cray and move on.

The only way to possibly top that one and finish off Round Two was for Juicy Joe Giudice to waddle out to the couches and put an end to all the rumors and gossip and cheating accusations.

Or maybe just waddle out to the couches and sit in a sweaty, foggy haze.  That’s probably more like it.  Let’s all just lower our expectations so we’re not disappointed.

Even after slamming down a full Red Bull in under 5 seconds, Jabba Joe still appeared to be unsure of where he was as Andy quizzed him on The Call.

You know.  The cellphone call heard round the World.  That one.

The one where he got busted on camera in Napa for talking to who knows who and calling Teresa a Bitch Wife and the C-word.  What did he think that microphone pack on his belt was for anyway?  And the cameras?  Tool.

But Andy wanted to know the deets, and it is his show.

Granted, I would have been more concerned about why Joe was wearing that Greg Brady leisure suit shirt with one sleeve longer than the other, but I don’t work for Bravo.


What I could decipher between slurs was that Joe had been talking to a friend who was taking care of things back home while they were jet setting around on Bravo’s Amex.  He also explained that he doesn’t like the C-word, but had learned it from Teresa.

(Maybe she should focus on the other C-word: Cooking.)

When asked why he seemed to have been speaking in a number of different languages when he was busted, Jabba slurred something about a Spanish Pizza Guy even though most everyone believed that he was speaking some version of s*** faced Italian.

Something ain’t right.

To stick a fork in it and make sure it was done, Andy asked Jacqueline to elaborate on why she had previously stated that Teresa and Joe put up a front for the cameras, to which she politely declined comment.

Well that’s boring, I thought.

And then Joe slurred that she could say whatever she wanted…he don’t care.

Wait for it…

…and then she did!

Second week.  Second stick of Dy-no-mite.

Jacqueline revealed that Teresa had walked in on Joe while he was getting busy with some woman on his desk.  Eeww.

Teresa claimed that Chris had cheated on Jacqueline.

Jacqueline blurted out that Teresa had told her that Joe cheated with baby sitters, secretaries and anyone else stupid enough to want a piece of that jelly.  I’m not ready for any of that quite yet.  Double eeww.


And then she was all like Oh You Wanna Play?  And then she was all like Bring It.  And then Andy was all like google eyes and nervous blinking.

In the middle of it all, Joe actually asked why he was even there.  No lie.

(For those of you who missed it the first time:  Tool.)

And then it was over.

But the fuse was lit, and next week it’s the B-word.


The Real Housewives Of New Jersey: They’re Baaaack! Teresa & Joe Prove That Money Don’t Buy You A Classier Jersey Shore. High Tide…Low Blow.

Saturday, April 28th, 2012



Then I was all like…whatever, bitch.




Then they push your head down like this and call you their prison girlfriend.




Then I thanked the Baby Jesus for making me the pretty one.




Then after I sniff all this I don’t even remember I’m a Giudice, and it all goes away.




Then I’ze gonna nail her like a Home Depot project.



Don’t be alarmed.

The sound you just heard was simply a stampede of Prostitution Whores running for cover, which can only mean one thing.

She’s back.  And she brought friends.

Or at least they used to be friends.  Now I’m not sure what they’re called.

But regardless…they’re all back.

And it’s all going down.  Down to the shore.

The Real Housewives of New Jersey just returned for another season and wasted no time stirring that big spaghetti pot of drama.

Apparently Television Time, or at least Bravo TV Time, doesn’t work off of the same clock that you and I do, so Teresa (…say my last name 5 different ways…) Giudice and the gang pretty much picked up right where we left them all those many months ago.

Since the previous season was so dysfunctionally tasty, and Teresa’s life was still such a guaranteed hot mess, Andy Cohen and the Gods of Reality were quick to think on their feet and filmed this new season right on top of the one that just wrapped.

That means that all the Giudice vs Gorga head butting is still as fresh as the day it came out of the oven, with only a TV Time break for the 14 part Reunion Show.

It’s like time stood still.

So welcome to Season 4.  Or Season 3.5.  Or Season 3 SuperSized.

To steal Teresa’s nervous go-to line…Whatever.

It was still Summer in Joisey as we got reacquainted with The Family.  Everyone was trying to deal with the less than glowing remarks that Teresa had laid down in her second cookbook.

Though Teresa (…ok, allegedly…everyone happy?….) didn’t appear to be very hands-on in creating the recipes or even lighting the stove’s pilot light, she did find time to stick it to a few of her closest family members as soon as you cracked the cover of the book.

Between implying that a part-time Olive Garden waiter had more Italian DNA than Caroline, and that sister-in-law Melissa stalks Teresa’s front yard at night with an infrared camera so she can copy her style when Crate & Barrel opens in the morning, Mrs. Giudice also managed to slam Caroline’s son and his bikini car wash before we even got to the first recipe.

And if there’s one thing we’ve all learned over the years, you don’t mess with the Manzo Family.  You just don’t.

Summer in New Jersey always means cookouts and shirtless Guidos, so there were plenty of weenies to be had as the Gorgas and the Wakiles enjoyed a poolside picnic.

Bro Joe Gorga, his newly waxed chest and BluBlocker model Richie were all trying to figure out what was really going on inside Teresa’s head as they grilled up some dogs and made little meat jokes.

Seriously.  Richie.  I don’t think that even railroad iron welders are provided the level of eye protection that Richie wears.  Dude does likes his shades.

Kathy and Melissa usually play the Can’t We All Get Along card more than the boys, but even they have their breaking points.  Kathy’s made for Reality TV sister Rosie took time out from whatever it is she does, and was more than happy to do a little Teresa bashing.

I love Rosie.

Between last season’s never ending Chelsea Dock runway couture, to her self deprecating humor and that  punch you in the face if you get in mine attitude, she is one ManChick that you do not want to mess with.

In retrospect, she is also one ManChick that you probably should never refer to as a ManChick.  Someday I just need to start taking my own advice.

Over at Jacqueline’s, the aforementioned Manzo Famiglia were also getting together for some snacks.  Apparently having drawn the short straw, they had also invited Teresa’s entire circus to join them, and were all trying to get in their Giudice Gossip before the caravan actually showed.  Luckily, Teresa has never been on time in her life so they didn’t have to rush through any of the good stuff.

On top of the tension between Teresa and the rest of NJ, Jacqueline was still dealing with Wild Child  Ashley.

Except now she’s Ashlee in Real World Time.  And now she’s a seriously over processed blonde.  And Mom said she had tattoos, but I couldn’t bring myself to look.

Honey.  Listen to me.  Tweaking your name might buy you some time when they are compiling all your DUIs, and maybe even score you a Grand Supreme Miss Pretty Face if you were 13 years younger.  But trust me…you’re still a sloppy mess who can’t figure out how to piece together a Dyson vacuum.  Give it up.

When Teresa finally decided to show, she and Caroline scooted outside for a minute to deal with the Cookbookgate controversy.

As Caroline massaged the side of her face to prevent an oncoming stroke, Teresa slipped right into full denial mode and couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t think the cookbook jokes were funny.

Umm.  One…they weren’t jokes.  Two…they weren’t funny.  How ’bout that?

Caroline just wasn’t in the mood, so she forced out one of those fake hugs you give that creepy uncle with the unzipped fly and then went back in for leftovers.

Then it was time to pack for the beach, because most of the gang was headed to the beach.  The Jersey Shore!

Relax.  Not that one.  Not the Snookie one.  Gross.

Well…yeah, it is the same shore…if you want to get technical.

And horny Bro Joe was going on and on about the Smush Room even while he and Melissa were packing up their zip lock bag full of nasties.  He’s like a dog that never stops humping your leg at dinner.

And Richie probably does own a pair of those light up glasses for the club, but hopefully the Housewives and Househusbands aren’t going to be passing out on the boardwalk with their naughty bits all blurred out on camera.


Getting all of the Giudices out of the house is always good for some laughs, and this time didn’t disappoint either.

As Teresa tried to rope up Gia, Audriana, Gabriella and Milania like they were sheep that somehow got out of the barn, greasy Jabba Joe was dumping a full Tupperware garbage can of Alpo into paint buckets to feed what appeared to be wild wolves that roam their yard.

After he fed the livestock, Joe also hoisted a ginormous mound of tied up plastic tarp over his shoulder like Lou Ferrigno’s stubby, chubby Italian stunt double and heaved it onto the roof of the car.

Memo to Joe for next time:  Check to see if your camping gear is infested with rats before you transport it across city lines.  When they got to the beach house and unleashed those rodents, GottaPeeAh and Mexicana and Espadrilla all jumped on the table like Hooters Girls.  Good practice for later in life when Daddy is serving time, I guess.

Since having everyone all under one roof would cause the Jersey Shore to implode, Teresa and Jabba Joe had their own digs while Bro Joe and Melissa bunked with Kathy and Richie down the block.

Melissa’s new dream beach house was far from being completed, so they couldn’t sleep in their own home quite yet.  As the construction overseer guy, Joe couldn’t remember to install toilets but he made certain that the bedroom had enough soundproof insulation blown behind the sheetrock to handle a Rolling Stones concert.

Daddy likes it quiet while he’s serving a wedge of his Gorgazola cheese, if you know what I mean.  I swear when he dies they’re going to have to bury him with the lid still open until the swelling goes down.

Over at the Giudice beach digs, Teresa wanted to talk to Jabba about a few issues.

Personally, the first one I would have addressed would have been why he insists on never wearing a shirt or doing sit ups.  That’s what I want to know.

Beyonce is right.  I am not so ready for that jelly, dude.

I could care less about what he thinks they should do with all the magazine covers that Chia and DingDongBella are starting to read at Target.

Just put your shirt on.  And make it a hoodie.

Teresa is concerned about all the gossip surrounding whether or not Joe is going to jail.  Now I’ve met a lot of dopey people in my short career as a freak-seeker, but Jabba is right up there in the Top Five.

Unless one of the beach patrolmen just accidentally shot him in the neck with a tranquilizer dart, Joe has to be be the most blahhdoofiest guy I’ve ever come across.

He’s so blahhdoofy that I think I just made up a word.

Trust me.  I’m Exhibit A.  Nobody likes waking up, but sooner or later you snap out of that fog.  I bet my salary Joe’s been in that fog since elementary school.

Back up the Expressway in the ‘burbs, they were filming a commercial for the blk water that Albie and Chris launched last season.  Or at least that’s what I thought they were doing, until I realized that it was just Caroline, Jacqueline and Lauren power walking through the neighborhood.

Just power walking.  All in black and white.  All holding bottles of blk.  With the blk logo on Lauren’s plus size tshirt.

That’s just what I want when I exercise.  A nice big gulp of black Jersey water.  Am I the only one who noticed that nobody took a swig out of any of those bottles?

Impressive color-coordinated product placement though.  Props to the ad guy.

Next week Teresa will be driving the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile to her hair appointment.

Back at the beach, Teresa and Bro Joe plopped it down to discuss the same thing they’ve been discussing since last year’s shows.  They just replaced the christening and the book signing with all-weather adirondack chairs.

Teresa was still in denial, and Bro Joe was still frustrated.  They went on and on about the InTouch Magazine story and Jabba Joe’s debt, and Jabba Joe’s jail time, and Jabba Joe’s DMV scam and blah to the Jabbah Joe to the blah.

There was also some confusion as to why Bro Joe never called when Jabbah Joe “went away,” which is preschool talk for a week in the slammer being someone’s cell bitch.

Before anything was really settled, Teresa started in with the “whatever, Joe” thing again and you knew this one was going nowhere.  But they’re family.  One big screwed up family.

While everyone else was sunning and gossiping, Jacqueline and Chris were back home dealing with the Wild Child.

After giving Ashley/Ashlee more than ample time to get her s*** together and also figure out how to attach the Dyson carpet nozzle without poking her own eye out, Chris was done with the drama.


Agree to move in with Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary out in Las Vegas, or get kicked out of the house in the morning.  How they think that sending a 24/7 party girl to Las Vegas will tone all that down is beyond me, but I’m not a parent so I’ll let Chris be the Bad Cop in this one.

When Ash complained that she already had made drinking plans with friends that were home from school and that getting kicked out would like OMG totally interfere with the club scene, it was pretty clear that she had lost her grip on reality.

She also appeared to have lost her Clairol root touch-up brush, because Girrrrrl…that hair was looking shady.  Don’t make me mess up my Housewives and get all NeNe on that bad weave.

Fix yo’ face…and yo’ hair…and then we’ll talk.

So it looked like Ashley, or Ashlee, or both of them are out the door in the morning because she agreed to the Las Vegas scene.

And no one held anyone’s head under water down at the shore.  So it looks like everyone survived the first week back.

But never say never in New Jersey.

The Real Housewives Of New Jersey: Blood Is Thicker Than Guccis & Auto Tune. Don’t Be Tardy For This One.

Monday, October 3rd, 2011


On Display.             On Display.                 I can’t sing.             Dat’s what they say.







My ears! My mouth! They’re both bleeding blk.





Because             “Dirty Jersey Water” didn’t fit on the bottle, that’s why.






Now I’d have to Google it to be certain, but I believe that it’s already been statistically proven somewhere that New Jersey holds the per capita record for both Italian Pizzerias and Fancy Hat Shoppes, because I have never seen more slimy pepperoni and stylish head gear than I do each week on The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

From the dueling Joes and their wives, all the way down to backwards baseball cap wearing whacky gay sidekick Greg and that little Baby Gorga niblet who is always upside down on the floor…everyone is sporting a lid nowadays.

Don’t say I didn’t give you a heads up on the latest fashion trend when it hits and you’re not prepared.

A crisp fedora or trendy knit beanie might cover up that thinning spot the Joes are always trying to hide, but it couldn’t distract our eyes from this week’s Jersey drama.

Not even close.

We got to pick up where we left off last time, in beautiful Punta Cana right after Teresa and Kathy had their  screaming match over who is the worst parent.  Teresa has always been blessed with an exceptionally low forehead hairline, and the ability to turn anyone’s words completely inside out and Mad Lib them into a slur against her mothering skills.  Neither of which were very pretty in the setting Dominican sunset.

Storming off towards the bathroom like you do after a fight in junior high study hall, Teresa and Jabba Joe G gave the rest of the crew plenty of time to do their 3rd quarter analyzing and figure out who was a bigger Dbag.  Richie took the high road, as well as his stylin’ pair of eyeglasses, and went in search of Joe in stall #2 to check on things.

A greasy Joe on the beach is scary.  Joe slobbering out of bed is even scarier.  Joe on the toilet?  Please no, Richie.  Just no.  Maybe it was my anxiety, or maybe it was real I don’t know, but somehow my television suddenly gave me the ability to see Joe sitting on the toilet right through the wooden walls.  Maybe it was just my imagination, or the fear of what could have been, but I swear I saw him in there with a wet cigar and Road & Track magazine.  It’s the kind of visual they could use to make prisoners talk.

Luckily we were spared.  Bravo only forced us to see his wet face and the wrinkled pirate shirt that he switched into for dinner.  That was close.

Teresa either ducked into the bathroom as well, or more likely a phone booth, because she came back out looking like a bad B Movie Super Heroine in a gold lamé bathing suit, complete with some kind of flowing cover up number that appeared to come with its own wind machine to keep it in constant motion. She should probably melt that thing down and pay off another lawyer.  Just saying.

The staff set up a massive Burning Man bonfire for effect while they slopped out an authentic Dominican meal.  Kathy’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to figure out if she could realistically shove Teresa into the fire and make it look like an accident, while everyone else wondered why the camera crew was getting a better dinner over a the Craft Services table.  No fair.

After dinner everyone started pounding the drinks to wash down the after taste of the Dominican porridge.  Bro Joe Gorga and his one track mind got all 6th grade on Jabba Joe and wanted to compare junk to prove who was the..ahem…bigger man.  Sorry dude, but the only person who wants to see any of that is whacky sidekick Greg, who almost needed his inhaler but it was back in the room.  Luckily we were spared having to see Jabba Joe’s nibblies twice in one night.

The next morning all the boys go golfing, and all the girls go to the outdoor market so Teresa can research Dominican headless chickens or some sort of Teresa nonsense for her next cookbook.  Being the last kid picked for Dominican dodgeball, Greg ends up with the girls.  Faaaabulous.

Memo for next time:  Gucci shoes and designer outfits kinda sorta make you stand out in a crowd while you’re poking around decapitated cow heads.  Between the blood, goat fat and cobblestone walkways, these nut job Housewives were asking for a broken leg.  How we didn’t end up at war with Punta Cana after they taped this trip I’ll never know.  I’m pretty sure that all those little local kids in the back of the scene requested that Bravo blur out their faces.  They wanted no part of this freak show, thank you very much.

Classic Teresa moment #8936: Asking some poor outdoor market guy who slits chicken throats for a living if he has ever heard of her cookbook.  The chicken was the lucky one at that booth.

They all get back together for one last dinner where they play party games and crown one of the Housewives as Punta Princess 2011, as well as find out that nobody knows who the Vice President is.  There you have it.  The future of our country.  You can’t make this up.

After probably being asked by the Dominican Ambassador to leave on the next flight, everyone packs up and hops the Bravo shuttle home, just in time for the show to morph into 30 minutes of shameless self promotion.  The remainder of the episode officially became the longest commercial in the history of Bravo TV as they forced as to drink down that new blk. Black Water while listening to Melissa premiere her new dance single.

That’s right.  It was the highly anticipated (in the Manzo family I assume…) launch of blk. with entertainment by Joe Gorga’s potential money making machine Melissa!

Manzo Son#1 and Manzo Son#2 were launching their new line of Black Water.  Yum.  Not to get all scientific on you, but the water is infused with Fulvic Acid, which is a subclass of Humic Acids that arise from decomposing organic materials.  The acid is naturally black, and binds with the water and turns it into what looks like flat diet Coke.  Decomposing.  Black.  Acid.

Who wants a glass?  Knowledge is power, kids.

Spoiled brat Ashley made a return appearance at the event, either due to the fine print in her Bravo contract or her hopes of getting in a little underage drinking.  Regardless, she was there, and sitting on the couch was the extent of her participation.  Sign me up for that job.

After having built a dope basement recording studio in one night and hiring up a posse of homeboys to help lay down some tracks in the hizzle, it’s time for Melissa to put up or shut up.  Since going to Punta Cana was more important than practicing her dance and learning all three lines of the song, she is stressing out.  Melissa does her weekly thank you to the Baby Jesus, who is apparently responsible for everything from Holiday parties, designer shoes and glitter tube tops to the AutoTune machine used on her vocals, and hits the stage.

To distract everyone at the launch from realizing they were drinking black water, those crazy Manzo boys got everyone liquored up and then gave them a head buzz with Melissa’s light show.  While she busts out her best Britney moves, which unfortunately were the ones that Britney was using before she started cleaning up her act, hubby Joe leers at her knowing that he is totally getting some tonight.  Teresa doesn’t like it when anyone steals the spotlight, so she just chewed the inside of her lip until the synthesizer stopped thumping.   Everyone else put on their best poker face and pretended it was the best song they’ve ever heard.

Over at the Real Housewives of Atlanta I’m pretty sure Kim Zolciak was breathing a sigh of relief that she still holds the Bravo record for biggest boobs and best Gay Pride Parade Anthem for another season.  You’re safe for now, sister.

After Britney/Melissa took off her boogie shoes, Teresa fakes a hug and then pulls Kathy aside to smooth things over.  Out of nowhere, Kathy’s crazy sister Rosie makes her long awaited costumed cameo return this week as she shows up in the crowd wearing some kind of pirate number, perhaps as one last salute to Punta Cana.  She’s apparently not a big Teresa fan, because she unleashed some major eye glare as she watched Kathy proclaim that she loved Teresa like a sister.  Oh no, she did not just use the S Word in front of Rosie.  You do not want to get on a pirate’s bad side.

And it’s all building up to next time when they unleash one last bunch of crazy on the season finale.  Already?  Didn’t this just start?  Or was that the other show?

I forget.  But regardless, don’t be tardy for the party.

Oh wait…that’s not this one either.  Man, there’s a lot of Housewives.

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