DanThat'sCool!

 

I never called you a stripper. I called you a bartender who took her clothes off for money! Get your story straight.

 

 

Youz all big MoMos. So just check out my wife’s jugs and then return my freakin’ Craftsman ratchet wrench set.

 

 

I knew I should have bought the contract with the Unlimited Texting Plan. It’s only the 15th and I’m already screwed.

 

 

No, I said come up here and scratch mine, you stupid bitch. That new nose is kinda hot.

 

 

 

In Touch Magazine only paid me for this many stories. How many is this again? Help me out, Juicy.

 

 

One morning after Richie’s big “alarm clock” went off, my eyeballs stuck like this. True Story.

 

 

Scratching.

Doing it.  Or telling somebody to go do it.  I’m not really sure.

But they say it’s a Jersey Thing.

And it must be, because there was certainly enough of it going down at The Borgata during the dysfunctional, not so family-friendly third and final installment of  The Real Housewives of New Jersey Reunion this week.  It got nasty.

There were Wives trying to scratch each other’s eyes out.  There was Andy Cohen nervously scratching his head and giving us pretty much every googly AndyFace in his arsenal.  And even though they didn’t show it on camera, you know that at some point during the 12 hour Atlantic City taping Juicy Joe Giudice scratched his junk like a primitive ape a few times between belches.

Yup.  Third Time’s A Charm.

Andy picked up right where we left off in Part Two, with Joe still smirking on the couch next to his Fabuliciously delusional wife, Teresa.  Affectionately referred to by Joe as either Tre or the C-word (…dependent on the social situation, I’m going to assume…) Teresa was still trying to justify both why she sells stories to In Touch Magazine and why she was still married to that greasy gorilla.

After Andy offered up another flashback snippet of Yoda Manzo wisdom, he asked Caroline to clarify her seemingly psychic prediction that Teresa may one day find herself in divorce court.

Ok.  One…they should totally do that ’70s sitcom Dream Sequence thing where the screen gets all wobbly and blurry and then Time Machine music plays whenever Andy shows a clip from the past.  I would find that enjoyable.

Two…if by divorce court Caroline had meant the old network Divorce Court TV show, then I think it would be a pretty safe bet that Teresa would already be picking out camera-friendly outfits.  Girlfriend does love her closeups.

Joe doesn’t handle verbal confrontation very well.  We saw it all season.  And we saw it at the Reunion.

If he could punch everyone out, then he’d be fine.  But when he’s forced to sit in a fancy ballroom, getting head sweat in an uncomfortable leisure suit from Jersey Shore Portly, the best he could come up with were his go-to junior high playground bully lines.

Whadda ya gonna do?  Whatevah.  You’re fat.  Whatevah.  You’re a stupid doodie head.  Whatevah.  You’re a kaka face. Whatevah.  And then some (bleeped) out gems.

Whatevah.

The usual bully stuff.  And usually spoken while looking straight ahead.  Joe doesn’t like eye contact either.  Name calling…yes.  Eye contact…not so much.

After calling Caroline a Know It All, Joe and Teresa stumbled over their reasoning for talking to the media, claiming that they were apparently the only two cast members ever asked.  When everyone else jumped in and explained that they are all asked for gossipy articles but choose not to participate, Teresa shrugged and said it was their “opportunity not to do it,” which I don’t believe even makes any sense.  I’m thinking that she may have confused opportunity with prerogative since they sound so much alike.  Whatevah.

Andy wanted to get to the good stuff, so he asked Jabba what was up with his DMV legal battle.  The legal battle where Joe is accused of using either a fake ID, or someone else’s ID, to try and get a fake license since The Man had taken the old one which in a roundabout way then forced him to sell the pizza place where he had made his daughter cry during a cost-cutting birthday party with paper plates.  That one.

Yes.  That was a long, rambling sentence, thank you.  But I wanted to get it all in and pick up the pace here.  Hulu the pizza episode if you have no idea what I’m talking about.  Let’s keep this thing moving, people.

If convicted Juicy could face up to 10 years in jail.  Or “go away” for 10 years, as they like to call it in Jersey.

But he didn’t know what was going on with the legal battle.  Didn’t know where they stood.  Whatevah.  Just keep looking straight ahead.  Whatevah.  Then he claimed that it would be stupid to try and get a fake license.

When Jacqueline perked up and announced that Jabba had asked Chris about getting a fake license, Teresa had to jump on the pig pile and protect her man by screaming “OhMyGod! Heckel & Jyde!”

Now unless that’s a new act opening next month at The Borgata, or the two French designers who made her Christmas Tree gown, I’m pretty sure Teresa was speaking gibberish again.  She does like to make up new words.  I mean…Tre is already on the third phonetic version of her own last name, for crying out loud.

But that’s her opportunity, I guess.

Then the rest of the MoMo husbands all hopped up on their chairs and the MoMo party started.  Boyz were in da hizzle, bitches.

I’m not really sure what MoMos are in JerseySpeak, but since it came out of Juicy’s mouth I am fairly certain it wasn’t meant as  a compliment to any of the men.

After a quick Dream Sequence where all the men either swore, drank or whipped out their pixelated wieners, the Face-Off was on like Donkey Kong between Juicy and brother-in-law Joe Gorga.

Joe claimed that Juicy was jealous because of all his success.  Juicy said he wanted all his tools back.  Joe said he used to think they were like cousins, to which Teresa pig squealed that marrying cousins was gross.  (She totally missed the point on that one.)  Juicy was still missing some drill bits and wanted them back.

It wasn’t exactly Face The Nation, if you know what I mean.

Even Jacqueline took a break from all the drama to address a few split ends that had been bothering her since the Green Room.  No lie.  Check the tape.

To lighten the mood and give the viewing audience some bed spins after the show ended, Andy segued into Richie Wakile‘s boner (…can you even say that on a blog?…) and the long term trauma it may have caused their children.

It was difficult to tell if wife Kathy was surprised, embarrassed,  horrified or just healing from her face lift, because for the last three weeks her eyes have been rolled up towards her forehead and I don’t really know what’s going on there, to be honest.

She did manage to turn around and high five Hubby for tapping that thing every morning like an alarm clock.  Got that visual?

Now my eyes won’t roll back down, either.

Then it was back to some more mano a mano.  Juicy and Joe continued their screaming match, dragging everyone down with them into the Strippergate quicksand.  Juicy claimed that Chris had bragged about meeting Jacqueline when she was a stripper, then back tracked a bit when Chris explained the difference between pole dancing and setting up a trade show booth.

Teresa announced that Caroline had also told her that Jacqueline used to be a stripper, which woke Caroline up from what appeared to be a short nap.  And then the whole Melissa stripping thing came up again a few times, which made for a nice lead-in to a breaking news report that Joe used to strip for Chippendales.  Shut up.

I know, right?

Joe Gorga…not Joe Giudice.  Gross.

Then everyone screamed and (bleeped) some more about strippers, Juicy’s black eye, Richie’s junk and a Chippendales G-string shaped like an elephant nose.  It was a lot to process all at once.

As things spiraled out of control like the first Obama/Romney Debate, it became clear that Joe and Teresa were nowhere near a place where they could begin repairing their broken relationship.  Joe confronted Tre about calling Melissa a stripper and demanded that she own it.

Yeah.  Let me get right on that, bro.  As if.

Joe even dragged out the Big Guns and blurted out that their own father claimed Teresa had said it, with Jacqueline tag teaming him on the mat.  This was followed with all the usual “Prove it Bitch” threats that you would expect after a revelation involving parents.

If this whole Bravo TV thing doesn’t work out for Andy, I’m thinking he has a job waiting for him at The Borgata as a card table dealer, because Dude was shuffling through those blue cards so nervously I was afraid he might slit an artery as tempers escalated.

It was getting heated between Brother and Sister.

Teresa deflected all blame and hit low,  telling Joe he was breaking their parents’ hearts.  If you all remember anything from the Christening From Hell…you don’t diss the parents around Joe, so that got exactly the reaction she wanted.  Then somebody told somebody else to shut the f*** up, followed by Jacqueline telling Teresa to kiss her a**.

When Teresa shot back with kiss my t*****s, all I could picture was a face full of bronzer after motor boating those two bad boys, and it made the moment a little less dark.

And then, like any good reunion, Andy uttered the words that always make for one great final blow out before the closing credits:  “There is someone else…”

Kim D.

That’s right, bitches.  The other Posche Spice just showed up to break it all down for Andy and Co.

The woman responsible for the only annual fashion show in the world that always ends in a throw down slowly appeared from the shadows like that guy in the second X-Men movie.  Bamf!!  Out of the darkness.

…And into the hot seat to attempt a jumbled explanation on whether or not Melissa was set up by Teresa and that skeevy, bald strip club manager Angelo.

By this point, everyone knew that someone at the fashion show knew something was gonna go down.  They just didn’t know who knew what and when and what time it would all go down.

Kim made no secrets about her issues with Melissa and how Mrs. Gorga had promoted another business with the same name.  Which in the haute couture biz is apparently not cool.  Not cool at all.  So Kim D. was already out for blood by the time slickster Angelo arrived on her doorstep.  Or as Kim explained it…things just fall into her lap.

All I could picture were severed heads and ragged hair extensions dropping from the heavens.  She kind of scares me.  She plays with the Big Boys, you know.

Right about now the Teresa Witch Hunt went into overdrive.

The night of the show, Kim had told Caroline that Teresa knew something was gonna go down (…they used that phrase a lot in the last 5 minutes of the Reunion…) but she was rather vague on how much Teresa knew.  Jacqueline was just as vague regarding who she had been texting all evening, because it was allegedly someone Teresa knew.  But in a Court of Reality Law, vague holds up quite nicely with the jury and everyone came down hard on Teresa.  Guilty as charged.

Teresa called Jacqueline a calculating witch because she hadn’t called her anything since the last commercial break and felt Jacqueline was due another jab.  Kim wove a tangled story about Angelo and the salon and Teresa’s involvment, though she seemed more excited to meet Andy Cohen than to save Teresa’s sorry a** from any angry villagers.

Joe and Teresa hit one more dead end regarding whatever was left of their family.  Joe felt he had lost his parents.  Melissa was done.  Stick a fork in it.  Done.

As Part Three boiled over and finally simmered on the stove, it was clear that Teresa had some involvement in whatever went down.  And it was equally as clear that the Giudice/Gorga family was one big hot mess.

And it was kind of sad.  Train wreck sad.  That kind.

Andy gave the floor to Yoda Manzo for her final take on the televised destruction of two families, and Caroline jumped at the chance to go full on Maya Angelou.

If Maya Angelou was 1/16th Italian, that is.

Teresa had lost her voice.  As well as half her body glitter, which had smeared on Andy’s suit every time he raised his arm to protect his face over the last 12 hours.

Juicy just wanted to go out for a nice dinner because he could care less about all those people and their MoMo husbands.

His family was in ruins, and nobody wants to film with Teresa for Season Five.  But Caroline said that where there’s love, there’s hope.

Whatevah.

She can go scratch.

Giudice.  Out.

 

 

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.

Hopefully.

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.

Ultimatum.

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.

 

 

You know we’re trying to eat here, right Teresa?

 

 

 

 

 

My retinas are burning.

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll Punta Princess Punt you right back to Jersey.

 

 

 

 

If the only requirements for staying in a million dollar Punta Cana villa are to be flat a** broke, wear designer clothes and be a certified Nutwad…well, then sign me up please.

I’ve got at least two of the things on that list already checked off (some friends would say I could cover all three…) and I can be packed in under 20 minutes.

So not fair.  Teresa and The Real Housewives of New Jersey just rolled out of bed (or got shaken, wobbled and dragged, as is always the case with Joe Giudice…) and found themselves in yet another Caribbean Paradise, again all on Bravo TV’s dime.

Whereas most families in crisis would either go into private therapy or at the very least, try a quiet lunch at Olive Garden for starters, the Jersey crew packed up all their thongs, SPF 25 pizza oil and dysfunction into matching leopard bags and headed to the Dominican Republic to try and recapture the innocence of their youth.  Back in the day, when there was less of both Jabba Joe’s stomach and Teresa’s hair to go around, I guess they all got along swimmingly and they were hoping that by revisiting the same expensive tropical paradise where they used to romp around they would be able to start the healing process.  Something tells me that the Bravo producers were not crossing their fingers hoping for one big group hug.

Lucky for us, even the packing process is drama.  Melissa and Joe Gorga can somehow make even the simple process of  folding tank tops seem nasty, since BroJoe’s horny switch is broken and stuck in the up position.  Always one to set a good example for their young children, Joe stuffs a few kids into suitcases for laughs and then dumps them out on the floor.  Since this season began, I have yet to see little baby boy Gorga ever make it onto furniture.  Mark my words he’ll be in junior high before he knows how to sit upright.  It’s got to be a Jersey thing.

Melissa’s mom drew the short straw and has to babysit any of the surviving kids who made it out alive after being sealed inside their Samsonite coffins.  In the first of many uncomfortable moments, Joe grabs a handful of Melissa’s bikini from the suitcase and sniffs out the crotch in front of his Mother-in-law.  I think she had one of those strokes that you don’t know you had until you go to tie your shoes later.  If there was any empty suitcase left over when they were done packing, Mom should just shove those kids back inside and run.  Fast.

Packing at Casa de Giudice was no different than any other day.  Jabba Joe was a tool, Teresa was over accessorizing and the kids were on cranky auto-pilot.  After GiaSeeYaGonnaRunAway’s heart breaking, off key rap song at her sister’s birthday party, you would think that as a parent Teresa might want to stick around for a few days and make sure the little tyke doesn’t stick her head in the microwave.  But no..white sandy beaches trump a child’s cry for help any day.

Sticking kids in luggage seems to have taken over the first place spot from that youtube planking craze, because even the Giudettes were trying it.  In a few years when they grow up and realize what their lives have truly become, this talent might actually come in pretty handy as they try to sneak over the border and escape before Jabba Joe slobbers out of bed.

Jacqueline packed alot of beach cover ups while routinely singing her insecurity song about body image and inferiority, all while being accompanied by yet another baby on the floor.

Down the street, Cousin Kathy packed way too many suitcases full of not much more than bathing suits and husband Richie’s fashion forward eye wear.  On the way out the door, Richie casually mentioned to his teeny bopper son that Mom and Dad would be “doing it” every night.  The kid pretty much broke out in acne on the spot.  And did I mention that the Mother-in-law was also there, having the same tie your shoe stroke that Melissa’s mom just had?  Hopefully they can be roommates in ICU.

After a pretty uneventful flight, thanks to Air Marshals and not much on board liquor, they all made it to the beach.  The only thing that didn’t make it was one of Teresa’s bags.  It was supposedly full of jewelry that could have made them some serious bank during the next yard sale.  For the entire convoy drive to the Villa (seriously…President Obama travels with fewer black Escalades…) she whined about her missing bag.  The only break in the complaining came when all 17 cars had to pull over so the boys could all take a Jersey wee on the side of the road like meerkats scattering towards their holes.  If America is not at war with Punta Cana by the time these cannolis fly back home I’ll be very surprised.

Bravo has stuck them all in some pretty sweet digs, complete with 24 hour concierges and some dudes that look like Batman butlers in white shorts.  The Manzo clan also joined the group, but their luggage and their tans both leave something to be desired so they didn’t get much face time.  Manzo Bro #1 and #2 take to their villa like the first day of taping MTV’s Real World, and go frat house spaz over which room they are going to sleep in for the trip.  Sister Lauren is here too, as well as Bravo token gay boy Greg, who wears his hat backwards cuz he’s cool like dat.

Bright and early the next morning during breakfast, they are all subjected to Teresa’s bathing suit fashion show as she tries to decide which one to wear to the beach.  Picture eggs benedict in the hot Punta Cana sun and Teresa in a thong, and just leave it at that.  Let your imaginations run wild.  Take your time.

To make the fashion show even more fun, Caroline has woken up with the world’s most drama filled migraine ever.  Ever.  A Susan Lucci migraine.

I’m not sure if Bravo was trying to compete with the Prime time Emmy Show being broadcast simultaneously on another station or what, but you would have thought that Mrs. Manzo had just taken a bullet to the face.

“And the award for best supporting actress with a boo boo headache goes to….”

Since Bravo wasn’t going to pay for her ticket and not get some mileage out of her, we had to watch Caroline perform like a mime in a box with no air holes.  Take an aspirin, honey.

They finally all scooted to a 3 hour boat tour, where they took the Gilligan’s Island joke I was going to use next.  They greased up, grinded on each other while Teresa and Melissa had a photo pose off for the title of Miss Punta Princess, which I guess gets you a crown and the cover of a porno.  Little did they realize that Miss Greg had already taken that title the moment he arrived at the villa.

I’m not sure if Greg is slowly building the perfect female in his basement like a gay Baron Frankenstein or if he wants to become the perfect female, but he is most definitely picking all the best parts of each of these women and keeping them in his brain somewhere.  He has a crush on Melissa, thinks Kathy is a lady, was scoping out Teresa’s fashion show like an ob/gyn and pretty much ignores Lauren.  Something’s up.  Or maybe he is just a Bravo intern and trying to figure out the next franchise.  More power to him either way.

To finish off the afternoon the gang all sat around in a Jersey style Survivor tribal circle and dished.  As suddenly blurted out an episode or two ago, Teresa and Jabba Joe are going to open up a restaurant.  Jabba doesn’t know how to open one, or how to get the money, and Teresa barely knows how to cook her mother’s recipes so this should work out just fine for them both.  The discussion starts to spiral when Jabba gives a slight jab to Mr. Manzo and his Banquet Hall.  Luckily Mr. M spent most of the day on his Blackberry and wasn’t paying a ton of attention.  Since Jabba also has no clue on payroll or the hiring process, maybe he should hold onto those suitcases full of border kids and start building his staff.

Kathy, who is slowly becoming the Mistress of the snarky, subtle innuendo, casually mentions that she and Four Eyes are only going to do a catering service, because she can’t be that detached from her kids.

The strong ocean breeze apparently twisted Kathy’s words around enough so that Teresa processed the sentence as a slam against her own mothering skills and then the games began.  Loads of filtered flashbacks to fashion shows and fist fights kicked in, and all that good Jerseyliciousness came out.  (Not the salon kind…wrong show, people.)  Kathy’s ginormous eyes got even more ginormous, Teresa started to act up like she was on the Reunion Show already and Greg almost stood on his chair like he saw a mouse.  Finally Jabba Joe was the voice of reason and told Teresa to (bleep) the (bleeping’) shut up and they stormed off like two spoiled kids.

Except I’m not sure they knew where they were going, because they seemed to wander a little before they found the restrooms or wherever they were headed.

Since Teresa is never wrong, she is done with Kathy.

Since the rooms are already paid for, everyone will be back next week for more Punta Phun.

Since my head is too big for my suitcase, I guess I’ll have to watch the action from home.  Feel free to join me.