HUDSON COUNTY –– Once again, Hoboken-based comedienne Eileen Budd returns with another recap of the reality show you love to hate, the Real Housewives of NJ.
This week, the kids show us they have more wisdom and brains than their mothers (not a hard task.) The episode opens with Jacqueline talking to her son CJ about the agita her older daughter Ashley is causing her. CJ tries to tune out his mother as he goes about doing what a 6-year-old should be doing – playing with toys – not playing therapist. That kid is either gonna grow up to be a psychologist or a hitman.
Meanwhile, numnuts Danielle is asking advice from her 12-year-old daughter, Jillian, about whether she should call Jacqueline or not. We see a shot of Jacqueline’s phone – the size of a Cadillac with 50 different lines that rivals something that might be in the war room at the Pentagon – ringing unanswered (much like the real phone at the Pentagon probably does when the caller ID reads “Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.”) “No way am I picking up a call from that nut job,” Obama/Jacqueline are probably thinking. When Danielle obsesses that Jacqueline has not picked up the phone after calling again, prepubescent sage Jillian tries to calm down her mother: “She’s a normal person – people are busy.” Get it Danielle? People have things to do in life like go to jobs, give birth, focus on things besides Danielle….. As Caroline pointed out to Jacqueline, Danielle doesn’t pay attention to anything that’s not about herself. Danielle didn’t even acknowledge Jacqueline’s newborn son Nicholas coming into the world. No flowers. No note. No phone call. No cocaine. Nuthin’
Dina brings in her Zenergist, Jen, to help her cope with the stresses of dealing with Danielle. They say that having pets is a good way to relieve stress but every time I catch a glimpse of that hairless cat of hers, my nerves get to jumping like when that thing popped out of the astronaut’s chest in Alien. What I don’t understand is Dina why keeps a cover over her bird’s cage but lets that mutant, Grandma Wrinkles, roam around to scare the crap out of people. Jen advises Dina to let Danielle know that she doesn’t want to bother with her anymore. Sister Caroline’s suggestion about dealing with problem people is much more spiritually direct: Just say, “Good-bye. I don’t like you.” You gotta admit, that approach clears up any ambiguity about whether or not to expect the annual Christmas letter again. Personally, I found Teresa to have a deeper insight into Danielle: “She can’t change the ho bag she is.” Maybe it’s T who should be a psychologist.
Teresa takes her daughters shopping and drops $1,965 on metallic leggings, mini-skirts, and other hooker-like clothes for her young girls. Gia, not about to negotiate what she can or can’t get, holds onto a pile of clothing for dear life, declaring, “Mom, I’m getting everything I want.” She follows that with a decree about how pretty she is. What an enchanting little princess! T. rebuts, “What do you think I am – Donald Trump?” then peels off hundreds from a wad of bills to pay for the mini-prostitute wardrobe. First, I’m sure Trump would appreciate being referred to as a “what” instead of a “who.” Second, even Trump wouldn’t carry around that much cash in a giant roll of money that screams this did not come through legal channels!
Danielle decides to take her house off the market because she doesn’t want her ex to benefit from any fixing up she needs to do to it. Too bad she’s not willing to take Teresa’s advice: “Get a job, girlfriend, get a job. You’re not too pretty to work.” The best part of getting to see the inside of Danielle’s house again is seeing her dog drag its behind along the rug. Oh-oh, Danielle, looks like you might need to add one more thing to the list of things to do in the house – call Stanley Steemer.
Teresa’s husband, Joe, comes home at 8:20 pm but the family has waited to have dinner with him. The girls are off the hinges because it’s so late but T. believes in old-fashioned ways like the family eating together. (She also says that she and Joe have sex every day, sometimes twice a day. That’s a lot of zeppole to digest. ) Joe comforts his whining daughter at the dinner table by telling her, “I’ll bring you outside by the dogs.” I’m sure the kid’s gonna remember that loving remark when she’s pole dancing at The Squeeze 12 years from now.
Finally, Gia gets to walk in Fashion Week. Joe drives her to New York while he eats a sandwich because, God forbid, he should go without food for the 40-minute trip. Eager to provide encouragement to his daughter, he offers, “Gia’s gonna walk down the ugly runway.” Then, as Gia starts to cry, he adds, “You’re gonna be the ugly duckling on stage. Everyone’s gonna see you crying.” Uh, Joe, did you ever think that sarcasm might be lost on an 8-year-old? I’m sure she’s gonna remember your warm words when she’s lap dancing at Stillettos ten years from now. Well, at least auntie Caroline is supportive when she hugs Gia backstage. Caroline effuses to the camera, “I got a lump in my heart. You’re so proud of this little midget that you just want to squeeze the life out of her.” There are so many things wrong with that well-intentioned statement that I don’t know where to start: The fractured idiom that is supposed to refer to a lump in the throat? The use of the word” midget” instead of “little person?” Squeezing the life out of a child? It’s like Caroline has her own personal version of Mad Libs going on.
Danielle’s daughter, Christine, walks in her first fashion show too. When Christine steps on the runway, Danielle confides, “I might have thrown up a little bit in my mouth.” Wasn’t that what Albie said last week in reference to thinking about his friend, Vito, holding his sister’s hand? This crew seems to have a thing about throwing up in their mouths. I guess that’s fitting though for a piece about runway modeling.
Christine does well until she starts to feel ill while posing standing still after the show. Danielle is concerned for her daughter’s health but she also notes that this post-show posing is important. It’s something “designers are starting to intricate into their shows.” My guess is that she meant “integrate” instead of “intricate” but, hey, Danielle was too busy dealing with the police to learn vocabulary back in her youth so it’s not really her fault.
Okay, stay tuned for next week’s episode when Teresa pops out her little zeppole. Get the powdered sugar ready!