DanThat'sCool!

 

 

 

How about I save us all some time and just slap the stupid right out of you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

You just keep talkin’ Renee. Got a little leftover Ragu right up here I’ve been saving for a moment just like this.

 

 

 

 

 

I swear, the only thing worse than two nitwits is a bunch of two nitwits. Because that’s more than two.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You’re a Silent Partner. And by the time I’m done you’re gonna wish you were a Deaf one, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seriously? I’m the only one who can keep my tongue in my mouth? Suck on that, haters.

 

 

 

 

I love me some Leah DeSimone.

Second only to Big Ang on my Reality TV Girlfriend Bucket List, Leah has definitely got it goin’ on.

Not only is Leah blessed with the fashion sense of a Solid Gold Dancer and the wildly coiffured mane of a Tim Burton claymation character (…which I truly believe could live on and regenerate as its own life source if, God forbid, Leah was ever be hit by a bus on Taylor Street…) but she is also obviously blessed with the patience of one of those Street Fair Saints that everyone always salutes with fried dough and sausage towards the end of the Summer.

She has to be.

How else could she survive this long without smacking one of these girls upside the head?  Twice, even.

As a matter of fact, without going to the DVR I believe she is the only Mob Wife in the entire franchise, aside from my soon-to-be Monkey Bar lover Ang, who hasn’t hauled off and cold cocked somebody yet.

Don’t get me wrong.  She’s come close.  There have been a number of times when I thought Leah would make the transition from Goombaladoinka sock puppet hands to full on neck throttle, but it never happened.

And if it ever does get to the point of a throw down, I really believe that her super powered hair will do all the heavy lifting…swinging and flinging Mob Wife a** all over the street like some pissed off Italian Medusa while Leah just kicks back and files her nails.

I know you can totally picture that in your head.

Memo to Madison Avenue:  Leah needs her own Marvel comic book, asap.

Mob Wives: Chicago once again tested Leah’s superior physical and follicle restraint this week by unleashing yet another round of drama that kicked in as soon as the opening credits rolled.

As a show of solidarity and support for Leah’s Mom Jacquie (…cutest, most huggable Mom evah next to mine…) the girls all gathered for the Y-Me Race at your Pace to raise money for breast cancer research.  It is an annual walk/race/strut event in Chicago, and was an opportunity to wear some pink and come together as one against this disease.

Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that Renee and Pia had time to read the flyer completely, because they totally missed the paragraph about coming together as one.

Prior to the event, Renee had made it clear that she did not want to be anywhere near whackadoodle Nora since the two of them were still in the midst of their pissing contest over who said what to whom at Christina‘s party way back when.  (The party where Renee ended up on all fours like a noisy leashed up dog barking at the mailman, while Nora accused Renee’s Dad of some nasty shizzle.  That party.)

As Leah waited nervously for everyone to show up, I was so distracted by her platform sneaker/boot things that I almost forgot why they were walking in the first place.

How did I know that Leah didn’t own a pair of Chuck Taylors?  Given the fact that I can barely go from the taxi to the nightclub coat check girl without my feet hurting, I have to salute Leah for hitting the hot pavement in Lady Gaga shoes.

I bow to her awesomeness.  And her blister bandaids.

As soon as everyone showed up in their Y-Me colors, Renee and Pia split off from the pack like two rogue triathletes, leaving  Leah, Nora and Christina in their pink dust.

Nora was not amused, and made note that Renee and Pia were like “a bunch of two nitwits” which I believe should still equal two if you do the math correctly.

Pia’s finely tuned hearing, which apparently can now pick up human voices and dog whistles at a good half mile away, allowed her to listen in on Nora’s whiney conversation until it made the hair on her neck stand up.  As Pia and her newly christened BFF Renee linked arms and headed off to see the Wizard, Pia made note that Nora’s “voice radiates through me,” which in hindsight is probably not something that anyone should utter when surrounded by women who just completed their third round of chemo.

Think first.  Then speak.  Just throwing that out there, girls.

After the walk was over and the Wizard had apologized for being flat out of Brains to hand out, Pia and Renee again joined arms and hit the Spa for some Botox.

As you will remember, Pia had recently given up the Pole and was moving her career in another direction, which in the MobWives World usually means modeling or gangsta rap. And since there ain’t nobody (…myself included, thank you…) who gotz the cojones to get all up in Drita D’Avanzo‘s hip hop turf…Pia went the safer route and chose modeling.

Lucky for Pia, her stiletto wearing BFF Deanna was available to immediately hook her up, since any good Life Coach has a soft focus photographer, makeup artist and stylist on speed dial.

Seriously.  You’re an agent.  Or a consultant.  Or a Color Me Beautiful cosmetician at Neiman’s.  Whatever.  I understand your business cards were printed incorrectly, but you do photo shoots and wardrobe analysis.

Own it, or do an informercial and prove us all wrong.

Because next to Drita, Tony Robbins is the last person I would want to go up against.

He’ll totally Unleash The Giant Within DVD on your a**.  And he’s like 9 feet tall.

Next we jumped across town for some snacks with Leah, Christina and Nora.

Christina was having some issues with the fact that Renee and Pia had become so tight, so quickly.  They even had little pet names for each other like some kind of Secret ChiTown Sorority or something, which really got under her skin.

Leah didn’t want to brag, but apparently amidst all the drama she had still found time to run one leg of the Olympic Torch Relay when it came through Chicago.  Did you see those earrings?

If I’m lying, I’m dying.  They were crafted from the same gold mesh that David Beckham was carrying when he jumped out of that speedboat all misty and sexy faced.

One flick of her Bic and Ryan Seacrest would have had to go online and completely change his AA TripTik for the Opening Ceremonies.

Love.  Her.

Finally Pia was ready for her closeup.

The Tony Robbins photo shoot was in full swing.  Deanna wanted the shots to be sexy, sophisticated, healthy and prosperous.  She also wanted to jump on the bed and into every shot from what I could see, but Pia managed to fend her off and make it her own.

I’ll give Pia credit.  She cleaned up better than that scruffy KIA did a few weeks back.

Oh snap.

Yeah.  I went there.  Again.

And now I don’t even have to mention the fact that Pia later gave her daughter her 11 year old Ford Focus as a birthday present.  You can make up your own story for that one.  I really, really, honestly like Pia…but, c’mon.

Since I’m now going to get hate mail for bringing up the KIA…again…I’ll let you DVR the photo shoot and check it out on your own.  Just pay attention to her implants, her skimpy lingerie and that lazy left eye, which in her defense I never saw…but the photographer kept mentioning it like it had popped completely out of her skull.

Renee showed up in the middle of the shoot, since that is what Besties do, and for the first time I really noticed that Ms. Fecarotta Russo has a ring to match every outfit.

Check it out.  She had an orange one on.  Next outfit…different ring.  Outfit after that…another ring.  Rewind.  That outfit…another ring.  All color coordinated like they hang in ziplock Baggies clipped to each outfit, the way Martha Stewart says it should be done.

Don’t ask why I know that.  I just do.

Next day, next ring…Renee was waiting at her apartment for her Starbucks boyfriend, Dave Giangrande to show up so they could discuss his recent behavior.  Or more like so Dave could just sit there and listen to Renee.  Semantics.

As soon as the dude walked in he was jumped, and Roid Rage Barbie was on him like that thing in the Alien movies that sucks to your face.

Dave had not supported Renee during the recent custody battle and then put the final nail in his coffin by no-showing for a date and calling the cops on her brother Frankie.

He also does that same nervous tongue thing that Nora does when she’s under pressure which has got to bug Renee a little.  It’s kinda like the Geico Insurance mascot, but not as cute without the Aussie accent.

And yes, Frankie still reminds me of somebody but I still can’t figure out who that is, and the mystery is taking up way too much of my free time.

Some alert readers feel that it’s James Franco.  But not the Planet of the Apes one, or the General Hospital one.

I dunno.

I should make it a game or something, but since I’m not making any real money off this site yet, I can’t afford a prize.  So just talk amongst yourself until I can sell ad space or some media mogul Googles “Honey Boo Boo Child” and immediately wants to get on the ground floor and invest in the site that will eventually bring down Perez Hilton.

What?

Tony Robbins was just on QVC and said it was gonna happen.  Well, he implied it anyways.  And is it just me, or is his goatee a little odd?

After some (bleeps) and FBombs, Dave waved the white flag and told Renee he had tickets to somewhere or another and they should go away and make it all better.  Then he sealed the deal with a face squoosh, a sloppy Frat House kiss and a heartfelt “Don’t be F***ing Stupid.”

Just like a Shakespeare romance, bitch.

Then it was time for a job interview.

While shopping with Leah, Christina had picked up the contact information for an up and coming local designer named Anastasia (…since they’re never named Sue or Ethel…) and had managed to score a meeting about a possible internship.

Anastasia was exactly what you would picture an up and coming designer named Anastasia to look like, complete with a quirky fashion sense and a whacky sidekick in a bow tie who just sat there in dead silence looking all fierce.

Tapping on her iPad, Anastasia asked Christina hard hitting questions about poly cotton blends, Project Runway and Alexander McQueen, only pausing once when it became glaringly apparent that Christina had confused Alexander with Steve and that “the guy in The Towering Inferno movie” was not the answer she was looking for.

Bow Tie Guy almost blacked out from his own fabulousness.

But somehow Christina got the job.  So she’s in!  Go you.  Good luck, TeamC!

More proof that Tony Robbins exists.

Leah and Pia met up later on to hash out more of the party fallout and the Y-Me drama at an outdoor patio.  To prevent a potential burst of a cranial artery while trying to talk some sense into Pia, Leah had strapped down her head in a wicked striped scarf number and some big sunglasses and began to lay down some Goombalike wisdom on Pia.  Or at least she tried.

Pia jumped right down her throat and proved that she had been taking private lessons with her Bestie ReeRee on the Art of Getting In The First Punch.  Leah got a little heated.  Pia got a little heated, or at least I think she did.  The Botox made it hard to tell.

As much as I love Leah, I love her more when she’s blowing a nutty.  My girl was all vogueing and finger snapping and sock puppeteering and Goomba this and Goomba dat so fast and so close that the wind shear alone took another 2 years off Pia’s face.

Best moment of the whole argument though was the meter maid or tourist or whoever that was who poked her head around the side of the restaurant and couldn’t decide if she should take an iPhone picture or call up her boyfriend and put the whole show on speaker phone.  Classic.

Needless to say, they got pretty much nowhere.

There were a few more restaurant tours before the big finale, when Nora finally met up with Pia to find out why she had hit her so hard at the party.

Before Pia had even inhaled to begin her first sentence, Nora went all DoodleSpaz on her and the whole thing collapsed on itself like an iParty bouncy tent with a hole in the side wall.

Needless to say, they didn’t get very far either before Nora poked out her Geico tongue and then bolted for the door.

Girlfriend does like to stir it up and then run before the pot overheats.  Cussing and rambling to all her invisible friends, Nora made it to her car in one piece and hit the road.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, Renee and all her Rainbow Rings got in a limo and went off into the sunset with Starbucks.  You can take the girl outta ChiTown, but I’m betting you can’t take the ChiTown outta the girl, so we’ll just have to wait and see how that all goes down next time.

Until then, Tony says be the best you can be and all your goals are attainable and within your reach.  Focus is Power.

Oh…and Deanna says never wear white after Labor Day.

The End.

 

 

Seriously. If we have to discuss this thing one more time someone’s getting all five of these right up their gob.

 

 

 

 

Seriously. Check it out. I can fit five golf balls in here and still not skip a beat. And Nora’s a bitch.

 

 

 

 

Seriously. Yesterday my hair was out to freakin’ here! It was Goombadiculously Awesome Sauce.

 

 

 

 

 

Seriously? The Nora texting story again? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

 

 

 

 

 

Seriously. I don’t know why the counter is covered in fruit flies. It’s not like there’s…oh… Whatever, dude. You still suck big ones.

 

 

 

Seriously.

Nine episodes later, and I still don’t know what a Gob is.

I love saying it, and using it in almost daily interactions with co-workers and am actually actively considering somehow sneaking it into a Powerpoint presentation I have to give next month.

No clue.

But whatever it is, it’s pretty clear that Leah is just about ready to biff one or two of them, because everyone’s favorite Mob Wives: Chicago Goombalina has just about run out of patience with the rest of the girls and their drama.

Seriously.

It’s gotten to the point where she hasn’t even had time to blow out her signature Broadway Lion King mane for every scene.  That’s when you really know it’s about to go down in ChiTown.

Amidst the party throw downs and prankster texting, Leah has valiantly tried to play referee while the rest of the gang quickly threw punches and slowly shifted alliances.

That’s gotta wear a girl out.  Not to mention her ‘do.

Well, you better get used to a few more weeks of ponytail scrunchies and slicked back hair, because it doesn’t look like the rest of the girls are even close to hugging this one out yet.

This time the drama started as soon as the front door opened at Renee‘s place.

Roid Rage Barbie had not seen her daughter since Giana and that whacky sidekick Marco returned from their jailhouse roadtrip.  After driving however long it took them to get from A to B at 70 mph…I was never very good at those trick math questions…Giana had finally gotten to spend some quality time with her Dad, Ottavio Volpe, as well as the entire population of the penitentiary and that one creepy guard who always looks through the two way window.

Or at least he always does on General Hospital.

Regardless, Giana came home more confused than ever about her childhood and now doubted most of the stories that Mom had spoon fed her growing up.

Through the years, with any opening in the conversation she was given, Renee had always jumped at the chance to smack talk Ottavio and his Dead Beat Dad status.

Whether it was stories about abandonment, no-shows at her school’s Father/Daughter Day, or the one about yanking the tails off every My Little Pony in her collection to stitch together a bank robbery disguise, Renee always made Ottavio out to be The Villain.

All that aside, it really is too bad that Dad is locked up for so long, because his cool name alone could guarantee him a supporting role in the next X-Men movie.

Seriously.

Is that not the best name?  Evah?

Move over Magneto.  The World will now learn to fear the Italian Power of Ottavio!

That is way cooler than any of the other cool names that I’ve ever guaranteed an X-Men role to previously.

But, anyway.

We love Giana.  She’s the most level headed young woman on VH1.  And she’s just naturally, really pretty.  And when she cries, it’s real crying.  Not Drama Queen crying.

So we love her.

Turned out that before the guards took Ottavio back to the prison’s Super Villain Lair so he could plot his next move on Charles Xavier and Wolverine,  Dad had mentioned to Giana that every time he tried to visit her as a child Renee would call the police.

Even back in the day, Ottavio and the Po Po were definitely not a good mix, so he would always have to cut a donut in the driveway and squeal off into the sunset without getting to see his daughter.  Thus giving Renee another opportunity to sing that song about Abandonment.

When Giana confronted Renee about the different versions of her youth, most of it got (bleeped) out, but the gist of the conversation was that Renee felt Dad was trying to sabotage her relationship with Giana by lying.  Just like he lied when he used to tell people he had cancer.  Wha–?

Now Renee wasn’t really clear on why he said that, or when, or how often, and it did kind of seem like she was reaching for something on the top shelf of the Drama Cabinet when she blurted it out, but it was enough to zonk Giana out a little bit, which in turn flipped that tiny dog out a little bit.

Pretty soon all three of them were just running in circles and it was time to move on.

While Christina made some soup, her live-in ex-husband Joe (…every MobWives show in the franchise is contractually obligated to hire at least one Joe…) came in from whatever it was he was doing outside to eat some soup and ask if she was ever gonna get a job or something to help pay the cable bill.

The scene was short and pretty painless but we did get to see that their kitchen looked like every good Italian kitchen should look, complete with that trio of pedestal candles that always get in the way of every camera shot.

Seriously.

Hasn’t anyone learned anything from dodging those things over at the Manzo house on Real Housewives of New Jersey?  They’re like a director’s worst nightmare.  And you know they never light them because they always have that straw ribbon cluster still attached to the middle.

Then we were off to downward our dogs, so to speak.

Pia, Renee and Leah headed out to yoga class in an effort to de-stress and find their Inner Child.

Needless to say, they never chilled out enough to release them, but I’m going to go on the assumption that Leah’s Inner Child would have some serious Little Rascals Buckwheat hair and sound like she alternated between drags on a Newport unfiltered and a helium-filled birthday balloon.

Sometimes I just love Leah too much.

After getting their yoga on for three whole minutes, the girls got right back into bickering over the same old Nora This Nora That mess until I thought Leah was going to force a headstand on the two of them.

You can always tell when Leah is getting fed up, because she does her Italian Goombadabing Sock Puppet Hands.  You know what I’m talking about.  The ones where you put all your fingers and thumbs together like you’re wearing a tube sock on your fist and tasting good pasta at the same time.  Delizioso!

Now shut the f*** up about all this before I break your face.  Namaste?

Speaking of breaking stuff…

Renee met her brother Frankie to show off yet another snappy hat and to get his opinion on all the latest drama.

It’s driving me crazy that I can’t think of who Frankie looks like.  He reminds me of somebody and I can’t remember if it’s on TV or at my old high school or the bulletin board at the Post Office.

But once he said “Do NOT mess wid my family. Do NOT.” it really didn’t matter anymore.

When Caroline Manzo says it (…pretty much weekly, as any RHONJ drinking game participant will attest to…) it’s threatening to a point, and then you reach across the table for more meatballs right in front of her face.

When Frankie says it on the other hand, you wet yourself a little and then close your Facebook account.  Or at least I did.

Yeah.  We won’t be making as much fun of Frankie as I had originally intended.   I’ve invested too much money in White Strips over the years to get on his bad side.

Moving on.

Down the road, Leah met up with Ms. CrazyPants Nora to share some stories about being Daddy’s Little Girl.  Through all the fist fights and verbal inappropriateness, Leah had always tried to keep an open mind about Nora until she could figure out what this NutWad was really all about.

Turns out that they actually have a few things in common and Leah quietly whispered that she might actually be starting to like Nora.  I know, right?

Don’t tell the cool kids at school quite yet or it will ruin her street cred in Study Hall.  It was that kind of moment.  Awkward.

But not as awkward as new BFFs Renee and Pia going bathing suit shopping.

After flashing the construction workers across the street with a Lindsay Lohan car seat slide, Renee joined her new Bestie for some bikini modeling.  Awkward.

Then they actually tried on suits, which gave Renee a chance to not only ogle Pia’s implants, but also poke at them like you do before a picnic when you want to know if the jello mold has completely set.  Awkward.

And then to top it all off, three of Renee’s credit cards were declined after sliding them up and down the Visa reader like they were playing the machines at Vegas.  You just hit the Awkward Trifecta!  And lost.

Looked like her Starbucks boyfriend Dave Giangrande had been getting his fingers up in her bidnezz.  Uh oh.  Renee was pissed, and looking to do some damage.

But first, it was time to whack a few balls that weren’t attached to Dave.

Since Leah isn’t big on Tupperware parties, she decided the next best thing to pull the girls all together would be golfing.  Go figure.

So Leah, Christina, Pia and Renee all hit the driving range to unleash some aggression and try to kiss and make up.

Let’s just say that half a bucket o’ balls later, Christina was starting to steam as the two new Besties screamed and giggled with each swing like they had just gotten the ball through the windmill and into the clown’s mouth at FunTown Putt Putt.

By the time the four of them hit the clubhouse for a cocktail, the whole Nora This Nora That mess resurfaced again, and it was time for that poor VH1 intern to (bleep) every other word out of Renee’s mouth.

Seriously.

VH1 must have had to hire somebody full time in the booth just to keep one hand on the censor button when Renee is around.

Girlfriend does like her purple eye shadow and F Bombs.

And she got to use plenty of them bombs on Dave later after he not only stood her up for a dinner date, but then also called the cops on brother Frankie the next day.

Dat’s rite.  Before Renee even made it into work after getting royally boned (…and not the good kind…) on a romantic dinner, Bro had gone to Eye Candy Optics to get all Manzo on Dave’s a** and give him that whole Don’t Mess Wid My Family spiel.

But as we’ve previously discussed, Caroline’s not related to anyone who may or may not have killed a man…so we’ll just say that Frankie’s hair looked nice as the cops kicked him out, and leave it at that.

Renee got (bleeped) out some more and then Dave stormed off carrying that garment bag again.  What’s in that thing, anyway?

Somewhere in the middle of all this drama, Christina met up with Nora and they…well…after Christina said that her relationship with Nora had “Dramaastiklly Changed” I blacked out and don’t remember anything else from that scene.

Dramaastiklly.  I swear.

I’ve grown to also love Christina quite a bit over the last few weeks, but she needs to get out from behind that Walmart Returns Counter and read a book.

Or go with Pia to her Life Coach and figure out what the next step is gonna be.

Seriously.

Life Coach.  And her name was Deanna.  And she loves big hot rollers.

Before all the Pia drives a Kia haters spam me again…relax.

I am not judging Pia.  Or Deanna.

Or her enormous Farrah Fawcett hair.

It’s the Life Coach thing.  And she’s a Life Coach who does image consulting and sets up soft core fashion photography shoots.  Just like Anthony Robbins does.

Not.

I need to process that one.  We’ll deal with it next time.

The episode finished up with Renee in a Bleepapalooza with Giana’s dad on the phone.

Why you would even try to start an argument with someone who is on a timed pay phone call from prison is beyond me, but Renee tried to cram as many F Bombs into the conversation as she could before the Warden yanked the cord.

As she scurried around the kitchen doing a seriously nervous countertop wipe down, Renee swore at Ottavio about everything from the lies he told Giana to the country’s deficit, all while trying to figure out how to reach through the phone and poke his eye out with one of her patented finger points.

There was also a giant watermelon on the counter.  It needed to be said.

But before she could get in one last juicy (bleep) it all ended quite dramaastiklly when the phone line went dead.

And just like that, it was over.

Seriously.

 

 

Nope, sorry. It wasn’t the same thing. It was only for 3 months. You’re not a whore unless you do it for 4 months.

 

 

 

 

 

Seriously?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nora’s not such a Goombaloompa when you can’t see or hear her. I should buy one of these in every color.

 

 

 

 

I swear if my hair hadn’t looked so Goombalicious I would’ve slapped that bitch like a birthday piñata.

 

 

 

 

For the last freakin’ time, Nora. It wasn’t a Yo Gabba Gabba music video. You really were a stripper at a strip club!

 

 

 

It’s one thing to try and embrace your Inner Child.

It’s another to want to take that Child by the throat and strangle it before the rental clown even makes any balloon animals.

This week Mob Wives: Chicago gave us a child’s eye view on life in the Windy City, as we learned a little bit more about what it’s like growing up in The Lifestyle.

Being a child of the Mob has to be difficult.  You go from crib guards, to school crossing guards to those guards who tell you to sit there and don’t move while they go get your father out of his cell.  It can’t be easy.

Our favorite ladies all had a story to tell that was somehow touched by children this time around.

Children and Parents.  Children and visiting hours.  Children and divorce.  Children and poorly attended parties with way too much leftover uncut birthday cake.

Some stories tugged at your heart strings while others…well…you know.

Fresh off her Don’t You Point Your Finger At Me throw down with Renee, Nora was back at home licking her wounds and putting eyedrops in those enormously wide crazy orbs of hers when Pia showed up at the door.

Right away I wanted to know what was in that massive CVS bag that Pia lugged into the apartment.  She has to have one of those cards that gives you back CVS Bucks when you buy stuff, because that bag was packed full of pharmaceutical goodness.

But no such luck.  Guess I’ll have to drop by Pia’s some day while she’s downtown…ahem…”working” and go through her medicine cabinet, because she didn’t show off any money-back ointment purchases this time around.

Nora loves to obsess.  There is no doubt about it.

Whether it’s the endless conspiracy theories revolving around the location of her Na-ahh No He’s Not A Hoodlum Dad Frank “The German” Schweihs and his possibly MIA body, to her ongoing battles with Renee, Nora can’t seem to let go of anything long enough to even wash her hands.

Right away she relived the smack down with Renee, complete with a full on charades game demonstrating how the whole finger pointing thing went down.

Now it’s well documented that Pia is not a big Renee Fan, due largely in part to Renee’s Holier Than Thou attitude when it comes to getting dollar bills stuck anywhere near your cooch.  So I’m not really sure whey Nora continues to ramble on and on every chance she gets ahold of Pia’s left ear.  But she does.

This time you could sense that it was starting to get under her skin a little more than usual, and Pia had to lay down the law before her fist found its way down Nora’s throat.

She don’t like that bitch Renee.  And she doesn’t wanna talk about that bitch.  And Nora needs to let it go because it is starting to effect their own friendship.

Next up was my Goombalicious TV Girlfriend Leah.

(No, I haven’t gotten up the nerve to actually mention it to her yet, but thanks for bringing it up.)

Leah, her massive electro-shock therapy hair and too tight tank top, were all going to lunch with Mom Jacquie.

On a sad note, Jacquie had just been diagnosed with Cancer, and all of America pretty much gave her one big Twitter hug that slowed down my internet for a few minutes.

On a happier note, Jacquie looked exactly like someone who could be on TV playing the next Ultimate sitcom Mom, and that made me smile.  I could also totally picture her on Golden Girls playing Sophia‘s normal cousin or something.

She had pretty fly glasses for an older woman, too.  Diggin’ the specs, Jacko.

After getting all Mom on Leah and demanding that she pull her top up a little to prevent those two Goombagrenades from falling out onto the salad plate, Jacquie went on to give a rather inspiring mini-speech on Cancer survival that made my Xfinity modem stop blinking again.

Mom made Leah cry, which required Leah to bust out one of those soap opera-style straight into your eye socket folded origami napkin blots that everyone always does in restaurants when they get bad news.  I don’t know how they do it without getting a paper cut straight across their retina, but everyone always does it and nobody ever bleeds out, so I guess it’s safer than it looks.

Maybe I’ll try it one day at Burger King.  I tend to get emotional in there anyway, ever since they raised their prices and got rid of The King.

Everyone’s pulling for you, Jacquie.  You go, girl.

Then for a brief moment, I thought I might have rolled over onto my DVR remote when I was reaching for a snack, and accidentally pulled up an old Project Runway episode.

My bad.  It was just Christina and Renee in one of those massive fabric supply houses where the designers always went to spend their $100.

Who knew?  Back before marriage and a top secret divorce and all that Mob nonsense got in the way, Christina used to dabble in Fashion Design.  Which is kind of fitting if you really analyze it, since Mob snitches and Dress designers really do all follow the same mantra.

One day you’re in.  One day you’re out.

And be careful or you’ll get cut.

See?  It all makes sense now.  Six Degrees, as they say.

Christina was going to be whipping up a gown for Renee in an effort to get her crafting mojo back, so they needed to pick up some fluorescent stretchy fabric and dish about Nora.

As Tim Gunn ran behind them shouting “Designers! Ten more minutes!” Christina and Renee relived the same event that Pia and Nora had just relived.  I’m pretty sure that I’m clear on all the details by now.

Gotta admit that every time Renne exclaimed “…pull my finger…” I couldn’t help but laugh.  I mean, come on.  Does she ever listen to herself?

Then we were back to Nora and Pia, who I swear are trying to mate their dogs, because it was Puppy Play Day again.  Since Puppy Bath Day went so well awhile back…they figured why not, right?

Except for the dog smell, I would swear we were all watching the same scene again from earlier in the show as Nora went into yet another Renee Rage.

This time Pia blew a full on Nutty, and tried to shut the whole thing down.

Pia also called Nora out on that whole 40 year friendship with Renee song that she always sings.  It hasn’t been 40 years.  So learn how to do math, and knock it off before someone does a real 40 years for manslaughter.

Somewhere between picking the fabric and cutting the pattern, Christina ran into some issues with her daughter.

After thinking that she could actually keep something like a divorce and a live-in ex-husband a secret until college graduation, Christina was confronted after her daughter had gotten the full scoop from a neighbor’s kid.

Der.  Facebook much, Christina?

That whole circus sent Christina back to her therapist, who apparently had paid good tuition money to be able to ask questions like “What’s making you sad right now?”

Seriously?  Sign me up for Harvard.

I’m not even going to address this issue, or why the therapist only shops at Liz Clairborne.  Moving on.

Throughout the episode we also had numerous developments in the ongoing drama known as the Renee/Giana/Baby Prison Daddy triangle.  I’ll just hit the good parts.

Giana really loves her father, despite the fact that he is in prison for murder.  And I quote:  He’s the funniest, most caring, most thoughtful man she knows.

No.  Not even with a ten foot pole will I touch that one.

Renee met Giana for lunch on Ash Wednesday, proving that neither priests nor MAC cosmeticians have a clue on how to blend a smokey eye.  Between the smudge on Renee’s forehead, her hat hair and the sloppy job someone did on her purple lids, she just needed to go home, shower off and start over.  For some reason Renee now wanted to accompany Giana to jail the next time she goes to visit Dad.

Trust me, no inmates are going to give her any hassles if she shows up looking like she did on Ash Wednesday.  Girlfriend could walk in naked carrying a cake with a file in it and nobody would budge off their bunks.

Giana also met up with her best friend Marco after talking to her Dad on the phone.

The only two important points here being that one, Giana needs to get a case for that iPhone 4 before she cracks the glass.

And two, Marco is totally the kind of guy whose cheeks and ears get really pink when he’s flustered.

Then it was Party Time!  And Party Bus Time!

Nora had invited everyone in Chicago, except Renee to prove a point, to a mystery birthday party that she was throwing for herself.

After luring the Wives onto one of those big limo buses that bad girls always lose their virginity in during Sorority Rush Week, they headed off to who knows where to celebrate the day that Nora was unleashed on Planet Earth.

Basically, what I got from this scene was that the Real Housewives franchise can afford to shoot their girls all around the world every season to bitch and sit on camels, while the Mob franchise is still too new and can only afford an expensed trip to a Go-Cart joint.

Because if memory serves me, isn’t that where the Original Recipe Renee (Graziano) took her mopey kid for some Staten Island bonding?  And sure enough, the Chicago Party Bus pulled right up to the bumper as well.

After trying to pry open a window and throw herself out into traffic as Nora rambled on and on about the joys of self pleasure during the ride across town, my girl Leah almost melted down when they finally arrived at their own Go-Cart destination.

You didn’t need a degree to figure out that all Leah’s Lion King hair, in combination with all that glorious junk in the trunk, was going to have a difficult time fitting into any of the racer gear in the locker room.

Two gallons in a one gallon onesie.  But she made it work, and ended up looking like a cross between someone you’d shoot out of a cannon and an Italian Power Ranger.

Pia couldn’t participate because the jello in her new boobs hadn’t completely congealed yet, and good luck zipping those things up into the suits.  But they all had fun.

After putt-putting around the tracks at .5 miles an hour, everyone kicked back with a cocktail and heard about one of Nora’s childhood birthday parties when only one little girl showed up and they both sat around crying until all the candles burned down into the frosting like the end of a sad movie.

Having an alleged Mob Dad in the family tends to cut down on the RSVPs I would imagine.

That story could also explain why if you slit Nora open like a Star Wars Tauntaun you would probably find a lonely 9 year old girl still trapped inside all that spazzy goo.

And finally, to burn off some of that cake, Nora and Pia hit the gym the next day.

In what was most certainly the wimpiest workout ever in the history of wimpy workouts, after about 7 leg presses without a pin in the weight stack, the whole thing just turned into one big bitch fest.

Nora started in on the whole Renee thing again, and then Pia started in on the whole Renee thing again.

Then Pia questioned why Renee always looks down her nose at Pia for stripping, but doesn’t look down her nose at others who did the same thing.

Huh?  What does that even mean?

Wait for it.

Boom goes the dynamite, and the secret came out.

Nora used to strip at the same club!  Shut.  Up.

No.  You shut up.

Except Nora only did it for 3 months, and in NoraMath that doesn’t count as being a big bag of Ho like Pia.

Then there was a ton of screaming and (bleeping) and accusations of being a whore and spending 5 hours in the private booth showing off way more than just your new boobs to anyone with an Amex card.

Yeah.  Nora went there, accusing Pia of taking her stripping to the next level.  The horizontal level, if you know what I mean.

The rest of the argument was all (bleeped) out, so it must have been good.  I should ask all the poor people who live and work in the hallway where they were screeching what really went down before Nora dove into an elevator and disappeared.

Looks like somebody is really going down next time.

But until then…me love you long time.