DanThat'sCool!

 

 

The rare and elusive Mobus Wiveius travels under the cover of darkness, often shedding its fur multiple times.

 

 

 

 

The Mobus Wiveius is extremely protective of its young, and will attack if provoked in bright light.

 

 

 

 

When cornered, the Mobus Wiveius is often mistaken for its relative, the Drama Queenius.

 

 

 

 

Identified by its glittery chest fur, the Mobus Wiveius travel in packs, marking their turf with gin & smokes.

 

 

 

 

Those Jersey Shore girls looked younger on the television.

 

 

 

 

So these four Mob Wives walk into a backwoods, redneck bar…

Oh, you’ve heard this one already?

You must be thinking of one of those Real Housewives Road Trips where Andy Cohen foots the bill for a glamorous jaunt across the globe, complete with camel rides and Punta Cana swim up bars.

Forget the first class flights and Hawaiian luau airport arrivals, people.

Been there.  Done that.

We’re talking Mob Wives, and this week was their chance to see the world.

Right up Interstate 80.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks for the Wives.  Everyone has been nipping at each other’s neck and face, and Karen thought it was time for a big group hug.

After meeting up with Carla, Ramona and Reality Goddess Big Ang at Belmont Raceway, she thought it would be a great idea to get everyone together up in the Poconos.  After all, if the deep woods can survive Freddy and Jason and all those missing Summer Camp counselors all these years, how much damage could our favorite (bleepin’) girls do in one weekend?

As the Mobettes sat around discussing how the dueling Halloween parties had just gone down, they plotted out their trip and tried to explain how racetrack betting worked to Ramona.

Girlfriend has a mouth like a trucker and some seriously white teeth, but she couldn’t fill out a betting form to save her life.  Admittedly, the only reason Ramona likes to go to Belmont is so she can cut the tag off one her fur collared Krystal Carrington ensembles and pretend she is High Society.  I swear Linda Evans wore that same whacky outfit right before Joan Collins shoved her head under the koi pond.

Check it out on VHS tape.  If I’m lying, I’m dying and you’ll be crying.

My Reality Love Muffin Big Ang was disappointed that she would not be able to head north, because of her upcoming surgery.  As I immediately Googled 1-800-Flowers for a hospital room stuffed monkey balloon and carnation arrangement, Big Ang explained that she wouldn’t have any fun in the woods wearing a neck brace.  Until she further explained that she was having her thyroid removed I wrongly assumed that it had something to do with the strain of trying to see over those two ginormous Wise Guy Gifted sweater balloons she’s always flaunting around.

Half a season into the show and I need a neck brace, honey.  Gah, I love her.

Drita is not invited, naturally, and that made Carla scrunch her nose a little.  Now that you mention it, I’m not certain Carla had even taken off her Cher Halloween costume yet.  I should go back and check that out at some point.

I’ll do it later, because first it was time to celebrate Junior’s birthday back at Renee’s house.

The short version:  The Birthday Boy looked like the (even more) gangstah version of Joe Giudice from The Real Housewives of New Jersey taking his good ol’ time getting out of bed and shlepping down to the kitchen table, where he got yelled at, accused of still receiving naughty texts from his skankified hairdresser ex-girlfriend and then was tossed an unwrapped watch as his present.  I’m pretty sure Renee was aiming for his head, but her pitching skills need some work.

When Junior didn’t pee his pants over the watch, Renee went off on him again while their son AJ tried to choke himself to death on a breakfast sausage.  You can just see it in that kid’s face sometimes.

As Junior counted down the last few painful weeks of freedom on his new watch, Drita and Carla roamed around the park to discuss everyone else’s business.

Hey.  VH1.  Invest in one of those fancy stabilizing contraptions that all the big networks have, or find a camera guy without a tick.  Seriously.  I thought I was going to get sea sick.  That’s all I have to say on that scene.  Except that I expected the guy to fall over backwards, shoot half a reel of sky and Drita’s crotch, and then send it to America’s Funniest Home Videos.  Now I’m done.

Finally the sun set, and the Wives headed up the highway to their Poconos, PA retreat.

Whereas the aforementioned Real Housewives always arrive to their vacation destinations with fanfare and TMZ paparazzi, the Mob Wives were basically snuck in after dark when all the Poconos vacationers had gone to bed.  For realz.  We don’t want to spook the neighbors.

If VH1 could have tracked down a cheap stealth ‘copter I bet they would have dropped them in body bags like Red Cross food boxes.

Before they even picked beds, Renee was already having a Renee Moment or two.

Let’s just say that if you had any doubt that fur vests were on trend this season, simply check out any episode of Mob Wives, because everyone but the dude at the dry cleaners is wearing one.

Renee packed about 7 in her car, and pulled them out one by one like a Walmart shopper bringing home skins from a good day of backwoods huntin’.

Them varmints were everywhere, I say I say I say.

Ramona packed her entire collection of Louis Vuitton bags, while Karen and Carla showed up with shrink wrapped veggies for the salad.  Renee screamed and (bleeped) about the room and the woods and getting molested in the dark.  Then she zigged and zagged around like a furry pinball machine marble, screaming and (bleepin’) some more until I thought the rest of them would get back in their cars and lay a patch of dirt in escape mode.

You know how animals always run away in panic when they know a natural disaster is coming?  Like an earthquake or tornado or Mob Wive invasion?

As Renee was nearly trampled by terrorized woodland creatures running in the opposite direction, Drita swung by Big Ang’s bar to let her know that she had decided to see someone about her possible anger management issues.

I love the way Big Ang just kind of rests her massive jugs on the bar while she talks, like they want in on the conversation.  Did I mention how much I love her?

I was a little bummed that Big Ang already had a red “I ♥ Puerto Rico” monkey hanging on her back wall, so that blew my 1-800-Flowers present.  Plan B, I guess.

When Drita finally went to see the guy about her anger management, it was pretty tame given that it was her first visit.  She soap opera cried when remembering a little wheelchair boy who got a cheeseburger in the face, and the Anger Mangagement Man probably wet his chair a little just knowing who she was and that she could go off like a glass soda bottle at any moment.

Hopefully the next time will be more Drita-fied.

Back up at Cabin de Drama, Renee had unveiled the Hefty bag of meds that she brought along for the trip, but proudly announced she was not going to take any anti-depressants for the weekend.  I guess that was a good idea in a don’t drink and dope kind of mindset, but in a Renee not on meds kind of way it had all the markings of a nuclear rod meltdown…and it took about 30 seconds for the first reactor to blow.

The first side effect was clearly her Pippi Longstocking hairdo.  No meds or mirrors, I guess.

I must have blinked at some point, because the last thing I remember was Renee (bleepin’) out a non-existent Junior for cheating on her over and over, and crying and having yet another Renee Moment.  But when I opened my eyes from the blink Renee was cool as a cucumber and they were going to play cards.

And then I blinked again and Renee was (bleepin’) out Ramona in one of her classic Staten Island “I heard from Drita that you told him that she said on Craigs List that you said that you told my sister-in-law” that Junior only married Renee to get into the Family.  Ramona denied the whole thing on the graves of her four kids and her Zoom Whitening technician.

Renee grabbed her cell to call Junior and prove Ramona wrong.

Again, I marvel at the Jack Bauer 24 reception that everyone on Reality TV gets on their cells.  They’re in the back a** woods of Pennsylvania and get through on the first ring.  My old phone doesn’t even work when I’m standing in line at the Apple Store for the new phone.  Bitch.

Then suddenly the wind shifted and Renee was tearing into Drita, who she may or may not realize is not even there in the room.  I think I saw a raccoon digging through her Hefty Bag around this point.

Carla says shaddup and then breaks into a little Cher to lighten the mood.

The next night everything seems back to normal, and the gang decides to head into town and hit the local bar scene, ‘cuz we know how them Staten Island Mob Wives love karaoke and darts.

After getting all dolled up in their best backwoods glitter and red lips, the Wives hit Shenanigans to sample the local flavor.

Lucky for us, some of the locals were looking to sample some Staten Island as well.  Once the Wives were sufficiently liquored up, over strolled Bandana Dude to try and bag a trophy or two for his trailer.

Now granted, I’m a little rusty on my Singles Bar playa pick-up lines…but I’m pretty sure that announcing right out of the gate that you are still one nasty humping dynamo in the sack, despite having just lost one of your boys to testicular cancer, probably shouldn’t be on the first page of your Match.com profile.  Besides stating that he could nail Renee’s hide to any shed door, he also bragged about his leg tattoo with the squirrel running up and down with one nut.

(If you have to ask…seriously, you shouldn’t be watching this show.  Go buy a book.)

Perhaps I would have better luck scoring at the clubs if I mentioned my tramp stamp with the honey badger chewing my brain cells after all these years of Reality TV.  Does that turn anyone on?

Regardless, the whole thing turned into an explosion of smack talk aimed at all Mothers everywhere, which resulted in Renee flipping out and leaving to call Junior to come get her and take her back to Staten Island in the middle of the night.  As if.

The whole thing was observed by an older gentleman who I swear could be the Love Child of Steve Wozniak and Santa Claus.

I also swear that Bandana Dude got kicked out of the joint by the bald guy who used to do security on The Jerry Springer Show as the remaining Wives high fived each other like they had just gotten a Mean Girl kicked off the Cheerleading Squad.

As the door slammed shut behind everyone I’m pretty sure I saw a really chilled out raccoon face down in the parking lot, wearing a Hefty Bag as a hat.

These bitches be trippin’.

 

 

 

Seriously…how come I never get to wear the hot chick costumes?

 

 

 

 

 

Check these out, Charlie Brown. I gotz your two Great Pumpkins right here.

 

 

 

 

 

Put your hands in the air and wave ‘em like you just don’t care, witches.

 

 

 

 

 

I gotz your big bag of sugary treats right down here, boys.

 

 

 

 

 

That type of off color innuendo would be completely inappropriate in Boca.

 

 

 

Trick or Treat.  Smell my Feet.

Mouth Off to Me, and You’ll Get Beat.

Stock up on Snickers bars and pay off your Blue Cross premium, bitches, because it’s Halloween on Staten Island.

And this week the Mob Wives celebrated the holiday in style.

Gangstah Style.

To set the mood, Drita and Carla took their kids to the local pumpkin patch to select a few festive front step decorations.  As the kids ran around like Mini-Me faux furred versions of their Mob Moms, Drita and Carla discussed Renee and her not so steady state of mind.

Having her on again/off again ex-husband Junior move back into the house has put a lot of pressure on Renee.  Add to that the fact that as soon as he finally finishes unpacking he is being sent back to prison, and the whole thing is just asking for trouble.

Renee’s mental state is like that pothole you keep hitting on the way to work every day, that keeps getting bigger and more jarring every time you run over it.  You know that sooner or later the tire is going to completely blow, but you keep thinking that you can go one more day without adjusting the rims.

Drita is hosting a Halloween party and hoped that the event would not only help cheer up Renee, but as an added bonus, stick it to Ramona who is not invited.  But it turned out that Ramona and her White Strips (…wasn’t that a ’60′s Girl Group?…) were hosting their own party as well, so that one sunk before it even left the longshoreman’s dock.

Carla, who as previously noted, has been gradually morphing into the Staten Island Community Theatre’s version of Cher, is still loyal to Her Girl Drita.  Even though she was invited to Ramona’s party…she ain’t going.

Fake Cher don’t play dat.

But Fake Cher does wear a big wrap around shawl just like Real Cher did at the start of every episode when she had her own TV show.  I swear that’s what she was wearing.

Remember how Real Cher used to start out with a slow ballad intro and then fling that thing off and then she would be all skimpy Bob Mackie underneath?  If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then you’re too young to be up this late and definitely too young to be watching Mob Wives.  Find a channel where they don’t swear.

 And do your (bleepin’) homework.

I totally expected Fake Cher to whip off her shawl in the middle of the pumpkin patch and bust out some Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves, but she didn’t.  And I’m not ashamed to admit that I was more than a little bit disappointed.

But hey…they were there for the pumpkins, not the floor show. Drita opted for a weenie little pumpkin, which I’m going to assume was chosen not only for it’s seasonal ambience,  but also because it would not make too much of a splatter in the event of any annoying drive-by shooting.

Next we started the weekly Mob Wives Restaurant Tour as Ramona and her BFF Lina took in a little nosh.

There were a number of insignificant second and third string Mob Wive BFFs coming out of the woodwork this week, but they gave our Wives a chance to dish and do a little backstory character development.

I know, right?  I would have preferred a bitch slap, but sometimes you take what you can get, I guess.

While Lina sucked on her cocktail and nodded like she was hosting a talk show, Ramona relived her marriage to an Arabic mobster who sucked her into “the lifestyle” before she even knew what was happening.  She blamed him for making her a Mob Wife, and for being the reason she is where she is today.  (Today being sitting in a restaurant while your new boyfriend is in jail.)

I’m not sure why between Arabia and Staten Island our girl couldn’t find one nice boy with all the points still on his driving license, but I didn’t ask.

Ramona lamented how her father was upset that she didn’t marry someone who wasn’t FBI.  (Full Blown Italian…not the governmental FBI.  Der.)

While Lina was spelling out FBI on a napkin, Carla and Karen were whacking balls on a golf course.  It was a pretty pointless scene, but I’m bring it up just so I can use the words “whack” and “balls” in the same sentence.

Moving on.

Back at Renee’s, she was beached on the couch howling Junior’s name while he was trying to shave.  Dude is not the kind of person I would want to poke with a stick while he is holding a razor blade.  Just saying.

Since their recent disastrous attempt at Couples Therapy when Renee casually mentioned that she is just now allowed to have carnal relations face up, it’s been a little tense around Casa Graziano.

She apologized, sorta, but Junior ain’t buying it.  The whole thing was just another screaming match between Renee and Junior’s squinty scar, and didn’t solve anything.  It ended with Junior heading back upstairs to find that razor, and Renee (bleepin’) her (bleep) off.

Ramona and Karen hit up the local iParty in search of those plastic bagged costumes that poor college kids buy online.  You’d think with all that (…alleged, thank you…) Mob Money and book advances they could have found a nicer Halloween shop.  I love me some Mob Wives, but that doesn’t mean I can figure out how they think.

Ramona wanted to be a Devil, and Karen wanted to be anything that let her show off them Gravano boobs.

Thank you, genetics.  She never even went down the aisle that had the nun costumes.

Across town, my Reality TV Goddess Big Ang and all her Big Ang-ness were hitting up the local wig shop with Drita and Carla.  The whole thing was classic Staten Island I Love Lucy as Big Ang tried to balance off her ginormous breasts with a Soul Train afro while Drita stuffed a few rolls of bubble wrap in her bra in a futile attempt at recreating all of Big Ang’s awesome sauce.

During the comic relief, Carla pointed out that anyone just out of prison couldn’t be in the same vicinity as another felon.  Not only did that mean her man Joe could not attend the Halloween party, but I’m going to assume it also meant that he could probably no longer live in Staten Island.

Then it was back to another restaurant with Karen, Renee and Carla.  Before the main course even made it out of the kitchen, Renee was in tears again.

Junior was going back to prison.  If it wasn’t him, it was her father.  She can never seem to get them on the same incarceration schedule, which must make it hard to plan holiday meals.

Now even her father’s driver was  picked up, for whatever Mob figure drivers are picked up for nowadays.

Throughout Renee’s entire meltdown, Karen tried to calm her down while Carla stared blankly ahead as if she couldn’t remember whether she had turned the iron off or not before leaving the house.

I’m pretty sure that Carla is over it.

Later on, Karen and yet another second string BFF discussed the upcoming tell-all book and Karen’s cell phone argument with her man Dave.

Everyone is predicting the book to be a best seller.  I’ll just mention that I saw it this weekend at Barnes & Noble for 20% off without the Members Discount.

You make your own judgement.  I just report the news.

Even later on, still another third string BFF was introduced as Drita caught up with her cousin Sadia on the phone.  Since all the Wives call their Besties their “cousins,” I’m not sure if Sadia is a real one or not.  But id didn’t really matter, since the only thing we learned in this scene was that Drita scored a Buy One/Get Two Free pasta special and makes a mean Shake & Bake chicken.

(Seriously.  Am I the only one with a keen eye for detail?  You need to scope out your surroundings, people.  There may be a test at the end.)

Best Family Moment goes to my idol Big Ang and her son AJ sitting around the kitchen discussing Wise Guys and pizza pies.

Remember that scene in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy first opens the door into Munchkinland and there is just crazy bats*** color in your face?  Big Ang’s place is kind of like that.

Like they were filming a Rachael Ray infomercial in a living room belonging to one of those Jerseylicious salon girls right when a twister came through and scooped them all up and dumped them in Oz.

Like that.

All the orange and yellow pans that Rachael always hawks on QVC were there, hanging right next to a gigantic glossy full size zebra that I’m going to assume was purchased by one of Big Ang’s many beaus to pick up her spirits after a boob job.  Mob Dog Louie in his chicken coop playpen was a nice finishing touch to the decor.  That dog is a hoot.

AJ is thinking about opening a pizza place.  Maybe in Boca, where Mom could retire and lay on the beach all day.  In a bikini.

Two scooters and one Stair Chair lift went off track at the mere mention of that one.  I don’t think Boca has enough fully charged respirators on hand when AJ decides to make that dream come true.

The actual Halloween parties were pretty low key, as far as Mob Halloween parties go, I guess.

Junior and Renee went as Prisoners in orange jumpsuits, which led me to believe they just grabbed something from the laundry basket and headed out the door.

Carla went as Cher, which only required a wig and some breath mints.

Drita was a Hot Pink Hello Kitty Stewardess kind of thing.

Ramona kept her promise to be a Devil, and Karen kept her promise to unleash her boobs on Manhattan in a Naughty Nurse costume.

Karen’s strategically placed stethoscope caught the attention of a creepy slickster who really knew his way around a hookah and blew smoke out of places that I didn’t know smoke could come out of without a piercing.  Junior had a mysteriously unexplained bad attitude attack and had to leave Ramona’s party early before he unleashed his own smoke on somebody.

Renee had started the evening on a positive note, dancing like a white girl pretending to be gangstah and having a great time, but soon slid back into her bluesy funk and it was clear that something ain’t right.

There were no major throw downs, but I would still have your parents check all the Trick-or-Treat candy before you eat anything.

Just sayin’.