Saturday, July 20, 2013

Random Thoughts

OK, heres what I got from a 30 second commercial for the movie RED 2. Old people blowing shit up and Helen Mirren karate chopping younger men in the throat. Apparently RED stands for Retired Extremely Dangerous and there’s already been one hence the number two attached to this one. Yippee. Helicopters cartwheeling into the camera, old bald guys looking totally insane and Mary Louise Parker from Fried Green Tomatoes and Weeds, appears to be their...what? Handler? Adult diaper changer? Bruce Willis (age 58) is the youngster in the crew that includes John Malkovitch, Helen Mirren and Hannibal Lechter aka Sir Anthony Hopkins. What fucking demographic is this film aimed at exactly? Presumably someone like me, but I wouldn't watch it for free. I mean if I'm going to endure some mindless moronic explosion - car flipping bullshit I at least want to see some young eye candy. Certainly not old ass John Malkovitch in a ridiculous Bruno Mars fedora. Or Helen Mirren mincing around like we're supposed to buy into the premise that its OK because she looks awesome for an old broad. The operative word here is OLD. Because she's still fucking OLD. And what's Anthony Hopkins doing here? He's a "Sir" for Christ sake. Shouldn't he be sporting outrageously opulent costumery and quoting Shakespeare on a stage somewhere? Catherine Zeta Jones, looking like she raided the wig stash from Chicago, appears to be Bruce's sultry love interest. Nobody's going to fucking believe that; he's way too young for her demonstrated taste in men.

Loreal has officially run out of product names with the emergence of something called Miracle Blur. Honestly, Loreal...Miracle Blur? It doesn't even sound like a cosmetic. It sounds like some household cleaning agent: SENSATIONAL NEW MIRACLE BLUR WILL GET RID OF ANY TOUGH STAIN YOUR FAMILY CAN THINK OF! WITH OUR AMAZING NEW BLUR TECHNOLOGY STAINS APPEAR TO DISAPPEAR RIGHT BEFORE YOUR EYES! Cue to woman gazing with adoring wonder as MIRACLE BLUR in a convenient spray bottle causes her kids' muddy hand prints to disappear. So yeah, I'm thinking, does any woman, of any age, want her makeup to blur her face? And miraculously, no less. Wouldnt it be better if the product blurred the view of those LOOKING at your face? Back to the Loreal Name-O-Changer, guys.

Tina Fey is shilling hair dye. WTF? Tina, babe, your comedic/feminist/all round kick-ass broad cred is in serious jeopardy. Garnier Nutrisse. Again with the Loreal. You know who did this before you? Sarah Jessica Parker. Now from her we expect this kind of shallow, trifling money-grab-at-all-costs-to-my-image. Because, let's face it, HER image, built on Carrie Bradshaw, likely THE most insufferable, narcissistic, annoying bitch ever broadcast into peoples homes, was already fucked. But you, Tina? Liz Lemon? The everywoman heroine to every single lady who had to wear a bathing suit as underwear because she had no clean ones left? For Liz Lemon to resort to this kind of wholesale rejection of the natural aging process...a shanda! Now I'm not so stupid as to be unable to disentangle Tina Fey from Liz Lemon (even though by your own admission she was built largely on YOU), but this girly, hair dye-shilling person doesn't appear in your best selling book, either, and presumably that IS you. And surely its not for the money; you're financially set into the grandchildren generation. So what, Tina? Are you telling us that all of your second gen feminist grrrrl power crap is just that, crap? Well this disappointed fan has one thing to say to that: BLERG!

A new commercial for peanut butter Pop tarts is disturbing on multiple levels. First of all, food that is alive is ALWAYS fucked up and in this commercial a live Pop Tart is trapped in what appears to be quicksand, but there is some kind of makeshift sign posted next to the body of...whatever...labeled "Spa". So clearly the Pop Tart was lured to this sticky death trap through craven false pretense. It struggles mightily, its creepy anthropomorphic "face" twisted in terror. Suddenly a random breeze dislodges the "Spa" sign to reveal another sign beneath that reads: "Peanut Butter". The Tart realizes that it is actually trapped in a pool of peanut butter. Whew! The Tart eats its way out in three huge gulps, happy to be free and full of gooey, delicious peanut butter. Unfortunately just outside of the frame a freakish stick figure "human" is reclining on a pool-side chaise lounge tying a bib around its stick neck and eyeing the now peanut butter-filled Pop Tart hungrily. Oddly, the predator is less well defined artistically than its soon-to-be prey. When the Tart catches sight of the fork and knife wielding "human" his "face" collapses into utter despair as he realizes his life is about to end in slow, gory fashion. We also simultaneously realize that this monstrous human-ish thing is the one who has created the fake "Spa" to lure the unsuspecting Pop Tart to it's ultimate demise-through-being eaten. Reminds me of Shelob from The Lord of the Rings. Absolutely chilling. Human as ultimate predator of breakfast pastry with a particularly sadistic twist. So, let's see what we've learned here:

1. A formerly trapped and terrified item of living toaster pastry with a human face, has managed to cheat death by asphyxiation only to be confronted almost immediately by its imminent death by being eaten alive.

2. The salivating, "Spa" poolside stick figure "human" is about to eat the body of a living entity BECAUSE its digestive system is filled with peanut butter that has already begun to decompose as consumed food is wont to do.

There you have it! Who fucking writes this ghoulish shit, Stephen King? Nietzsche through a Ouija board? I mean maybe at 3:00 AM this is the kind of surreal weirdness that makes stoned college kids trek out to the nearest 7/11 in the hunt for a must-have peanut butter Pop Tart. But its airing in July. On a Saturday afternoon. Hell, the story alone in this macabre 15 seconds - that hope is fleeting and struggle leads ultimately to dire destruction - makes me wonder for our species because this dark message is, after all, selling something as innocent as a breakfast/snack food. What's next? Talking cows? Oh wait! They already did that in a series of talking Valley Girl cow commercials shilling dairy products. In one she's trash talking while in the shower wearing a pink shower cap. At least her human TV "family" doesnt ultimately carve her into steaks for the freezer. Also, not to be counted out: the commercial for Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal wherein the little cereal pieces actually EAT EACH OTHER WHILE FLOATING IN A BOWL OF MILK! Again, with faces...cereal with faces eating each other as proof to us of how irresistable they are. "Look gullible human food consumers! We are so desirable and tasty that even WE can't resist eating our fellow cereal comrades in the fight-to-the-death pool of milk that is your morning breakfast cereal!" I don't know about you, but I'm gonna think twice before I bite into another fucking Pop Tart.

Those Goofy-Ass Boy Scouts Just Keep Getting Shittier

So there was this in the news today: some 30,000 boy scouts and 7,000 adults have descended on southern West Virginia for the annual Boy Scouts Jamboree. A wild week of hiking, riding the rapids and zip lining out in wild, wonderful West Virginia with several thousand of your closest paramilitary buddies. Unless you don't make the cut-off for body mass index, or BMI. Yep; fatties need not apply. At least those deemed such by the Boy Scouts "rigorous guidelines". Yeah, you chubby scouts can sing Kumbaya around your own segregated fatty campfires. What a bunch of fucked up morons the BSA are. It wasn't enough to exclude gays from their little, all-manly-men-all-the-time knot-tying club, now they're getting into the shame business for those who don't fit their Hitler Youth physical specifications. Any parent who enrolls their kid in this horrible organization should be visited by child social services. Oh, and BSA? Have a Twinkie and chill the hell out. Better yet: Go fuck yourselves.

The Wrassle At The Castle: Part One

Frankly, folks, there's not much to report on this, the first EP up at the Healing/Meditation/Confrontation Junction Castle at Lake George in the Adirondyke Mount-ins. Here's what went down: first we visit Chez Gorga where Melissa and JSTA are packing for the confrontational/healing-da-family weekend. But first we watch as Melissa and JSTA urge their three children with the cry: "strippers in da house!". This is directly followed by Melissa demonstrating to her kids exactly how that's done and them following closely in Mommy's hip-swaying footsteps. OK, Melissa, now you're just fucking with us. It's actually kind of icky, especially the look on the little girl's face which is a cross between "I want to please Mommy and Daddy but this makes me feel bad inside". Yeah, honey; makes us feel bad to watch. So that's all that happens: packing and faux stripping. A typical day at Chez Gorga! Of course, we're also treated to the two adults pre-bashing Thereser and JJ, clearly voicing their expectations that nothing of any value is going to come of this weekend, basically because T's a sociopathic troublemaker unable to take responsibility for anything deemed trouble. Yeah, we kinda knew that, too. Soooo....

Over to the Guidice residence where packing is also underway and T's daughter Milania appears to be having some kind of spell. Gia is on the couch, all 12 years of her, trying to text and her younger sister is going all cray-cray and...I'm increasingly feeling sorry for Gia who is having to go through her adolescence and teen years in this over-exposed lunatic asylum. Hang in there, girl; college is only six years away if you're lucky. JJ gets home from wherever he's been (but it's made him "really tired") and Thereser starts in on the upcoming healing weekend with her typical Thereser bloviation about her "brotha" and how she wants to "be a family again" and OMG I CANNOT BE THE ONLY PERSON WATCHING THIS THAT HAS SAID ENOUGH WITH THE GORGA/GUIDICE FAMILY DRAMA!. I mean, Bravo's been hoofing this story for like three seasons now and it's offically worn out. Who really gives a flying fuck if Thereser and JSTA ever reconcile? I don't think THEY even care at this point. But Bravo keeps trotting out this plotline and sucker that I am, I keep tuning in. Anyway that's all that happened at the Guidices: packing and talking shit. Oh, and at Thereser's urging, JJ played "monster" with his kids. Christ you need a wake up alarm for this crap.

Next the Wakile's and....packing! Alrighty, then!

Blessedly neither Jacqueline nor Dirty C and their respective spouses are attending this weekend at the lake. But! It's in their contracts that they do have to get a minimum amount of screen time each week so we have to check in on them both. First to Dirty C and Al SR who are all bundled up and visiting some park in North Jersey that Al SR's Dad had something to do with. Frankly, in spite of Al SR's clunky exposition about what exactly that was, I still don't know. And that's OK, because I couldn't give a rat's ass. Anyway, there's some big footbridge high over a ravine and Big Al SR insists that Dirty C walk across it with him. She is in no way happy about this for some unknown reason: the bridge looks pretty sound. Maybe she has a thing about heights. Whatever. He prods and prods and finally she makes a dash for it across the bridge, screaming in mock fear (or maybe real fear, ABIB can only hope) and makes it to the other side. Big Al SR gives her shit about it but then they cuddle in the lightly falling snow and Big AL SR promises to try and ratchet down his work schedule so that they can, as Dirty C insists, "enjoy their retirement". Uh, sorry, Dirty C, but what the fuck did YOU retire from? Bossing your children and mercilessly meddling in the lives of your friends and extended family is NOT a career, so...(per my usual Dirty C rejoinder) STFU.

Finally the Wrasslers are on their way to the Castle; the Gorgas, Wakiles and Drunk Ass Rosie in a big party bus and the Guidices being driven by...some unseen person in a big, black SUV. In the voice over we hear Thereser happily chirp that she can't wait to get to the Catskills. surprise here, but our Thereser is not exactly a geography buff; Lake George, as WE all know by now, is in the Adirondyke Mount-ins. Thereser and JJ get there first but are shortly joined by the bus crew. It's already tense as each party adjourns to their own room to begin drinking and bitching about everyone else. I'm watching this and the thought occured to me: Hey! Maybe don't supply alcohol to this already unstable gang of maniacs? They're up there to get their consciousness raised; is getting hammered really the best approach? Anyway, they join in the dining room for lunch and silence ensues until someone...Thereser? JSTA? Melissa? starts in with some kind of verbal jab and within moments they're at each others' throats with the sniping and the accusations. Oy, so tiresome. Finally the "team builders" arrive, a young couple who ostensibly do this professionally but I'm with Kathy when she queries in her talking head segment: "Are you kidding me? How are Opie and Little Miss Sunshine going to help this group?" I hear you, sister and I totes agree.

The group adjourns to a ballroom where Opie and Little Miss Sunshine have set up a rope on the floor arrayed in a big circle. King Douchebag immediately asks who is getting hanged today. Always the kidder that KD. Fucking fish-lipped moron. Turns out the rope circle is a physical set up for some kind of trust/bonding exercise utilizing the principles of the game Twister. The group engages but nothing really changes (BIG FUCKING SURPRISE) and then something or other comes up and the angry accusations begin in earnest. Opie tries gamely to take back what little control he had of these nutjobs but, hey: Opes: wrap it up, brother and get the fuck out of there, these people are about to get all crazy up in here. Surriously. Little Miss Sunshine can only stare mutely at the escalating craziness, a strange half-smile on her face. Little Miss Sunshine has clearly checked out.

At one point Melissa is on her knees in front of Thereser begging "the queen" to PUHLEEEEEZE stop hurting her family. Prediction: next season Melissa will be trying her hand at acting as her bored housewife activity. Anyway, she's begging and pleading for Thereser to stop hurting her family and Thereser just keeps on shouting her epithets, the same, old crap we've heard from her for...well...forever. But then she challenges her brotha to "stick with your blood" and JSTA tells her, "I'm not sticking with scum like you." Ouch. Thereser storms out (OF COURSE) and, in her storming pathway stand JJ and Drunk Ass Rosie getting drunk on some kind of brown liquid, my money's on scotch, DAR's poison of choice. Thereser screams as she approaches that her brotha just called her scum and that's all it takes for a tanked-on-scotch-and-steriods JJ to storm into the ballroom with the intention of getting JSTA "to apologize". Hooooo boy! No surprise, that little encounter doesn't go too well and we see the scene that was teased at the beginning of the season, basically JJ and JSTA pounding on each other with everyone trying (RIGHT) to separate them. The EP ends with Thereser running outside screaming "CALL THE POLICE!"

So next week I'm guessing someone will be going to Lake George jail when Sheriff Andy of Mayberry and Barney Fife show up. Oh and I actually forgot to tell you about the quick visit this week to the Laurita's. Hubby stopped by for lunch and Jacqueline told him how glad she was that they were'nt invited to the retreat, he demanded and she made him "some sausage", he ate it, she said "no quickie?", he said "no" and got the fuck out of there. Tune in next week, folks for round two of the Wrassle At The Castle!

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

The Real Housewives of New Jersey Recap Episode Six: Bitchy, Fake Friends Lie! The Guidices Make Sausage! Dirty C Contemplates Life As A Widow!

Opening thoughts i have to get out:

Rosie just called the Adirondack Mountains the Adirondyke Mount-ins. Unironically. I had to rewind and check. Yep, Adirondyke. Mount-ins. Moron.

Thereser's friend Jennifer looks frighteningly like a cat-monkey, some kind of freaky human/cat/monkey hybrid with the most pronounced underbite I've ever seen.

Here's what happened this week:

Al Sr and Dirty C went out to dinner and he bitched about their "retreat" being a few blocks from their kids. Which is not, in his mind, a retreat at all. Inexplicably Dirty C turned the rest of the conversation to discussing how much she does not want to be a widow. Yikes. Watch your, back, Al Sr; bitch be crazy!

Jacqueline despises Thereser and every convo between them becomes a shrill fifth grade playground name calling scream-a-thon. Monumentally boring. They're both fucking crazy. But we already knew that.

Melissa has lunch with her "best friends" Jan and some other boring person, and spends the whole time bragging about her book deal and how she's going to help other wives to super-please their husbands like she does. The friends spend the lunch exchanging evil glances that say: this pain in the ass is an insufferable boor who needs to be taken down a few pegs. And we're the ones to do it.

Melissa and JSTA writhe around each other at some pole dancing/striptease class. Jeez, for someone who spent the entirety of last season screaming in righteous indignation about how she had NEVER BEEN A STRIPPER, Melissa sure knows her way around a pole. These two really are disgusting. They try and wrangle Kathy and King Douchebag to join in but King Douchebag only has horny eyes for Melissa. And tells her so. In front of his wife. Week after week King Douchebag earns his name.

Thereser calls JSTA to convince him to come to the Lake George castle retreat while he's angrily whacking golf balls at the driving range. He agrees but only for the sake of their fucking sainted father. Speaking of whom, he and the other grandparents show up to Thereser and JJs house to make 80 pounds of homemade sausage. Yes, its exactly as disgusting to witness as it sounds.

Finally Jennifer the Realtor and escapee from The Island of Dr Moreau invites Melissa to lunch to rat out Melissa's supposed bestie Jan - she of the exchange of evil looks - who, at the instigation of Crack Hoe Kim D, has shared that Melissa has been giving blow jobs to her (Melissa's) ex boyfriend, thereby cheating on JSTA. Thereser is there listening but says nothing. Silence is concurrence, T, silence is concurrence. Melissa is devastated to hear of this betrayal and, with JSTA, confronts Crack Hoe Kim at a bar basically by macking on JSTA to the point of just about fucking him in public to demonstrate just how solid and un-cheatworthy their marriage is. All of these people are developmentally arrested at age 15. Crack Hoe Kim D tells Melissa that according to Jan, she (Jan) doesn't like Melissa anymore. Which explains the "Melissa is blowing her ex boyfriend" vicious rumor that she's spreading. Melissa keeps reminding us that Jan was in her wedding, which is, I guess, the ultimate deep bond in this three ring circus of bimbos and mimbos. So, at this point I'm thinking Melissa kinda does need to get over herself.

Nothing else happened because this week was just filler lead-up to the Wrassle At The Castle (made that one up myself; pretty good, amiright?), which starts NEXT WEEK! The crazies head up to Lake George in the Adirondyke Mount-ins, to some holistic retreat in a castle, and straight off we see in the preview that JSTA is calling Thereser "scum" and then he and JJ start pounding each other as a result. with Thereser offscreen doing her best Thereser screech. Schweet.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

The Real Housewives of New Jersey Recap Episode Five: Thereser Calls For Holistic Healing...No, Really!

We rejoin the RHONJ first with Melissa, who is folding laundry and working on her book, which is a cross between a memoir and a how-to guide for keeping a husband happy. Unlike her father, who, she tells us, used to leave the house to get milk and be gone for two days. Alrighty, then. Melissa is giving her daughter the Cliff's Notes version of what's going to be packed inside of this almighty tome when we see JSTA's big, black SUV pulling into the driveway and we hear him barking out the word "bitch" over and over again. It becomes clear that he's talking to himself and decompressing from the water-thrown-in-his-face encounter he just had with his big sis Thereser at the ever popular, generic neighborhood gym. He finds his wife and daughter upstairs and summarily dismisses the girl so that he can talk plainly to her mutha. At this point Melissa gets up off the bed where she was laundry folding/writing her memoirs, and we see that, not only is she wearing black stretch pants to fold laundry, she's also wearing black stilettos. WTF? Anyway, JSTA gets to bitching about the encounter with T and it comes out that T's accusation, some trifle about Melissa tweeting that she (Melisa) owns, doesn't rent, her Chanel bag, because she's not the one declaring bankruptcy. Hoo boy! When JSTA learns from Melissa that she did, in fact, tweet such, he gets all kinda cranked up at her and goes on a mini-rampage about how T is still his sister and YOU CAN'T SAY STUFF LIKE THAT! I'M YOUR HUSBAND AND I'M GONNA TEACH YOU RIGHT FROM WRONG and other such bullshit crap. Melissa looks kinda surprised, truth be told, cause she's not used to JSTA taking his sister's side on anything. Also, note to Bravo producers: find some other kind of shirt for these ladies to wear that doesn't so clearly show the outlines of their body mikes. Kinda spoils the mood, if you know what I mean.

Next we join T and JJ at their kids' soccer game. Totes boring. Plus, Thereser has never heard of the expression Napoleon complex, which JJ tells her is what's ailing her brother. Also, she repeats her allegation, for the billionth time, that JSTA is brainwashed by Melissa. I honestly don't know why this segment made it to air.

Jacqueline, Kathy, Dirty C and Drunk Ass Rosie are playing the bridge and tunnel crowd over at some chi-chi salon in NYC. Midway Dirty C gets a call from Thereser who tells her that at the gym her brotha treated her "very aggressively" for no reason even though he told Dirty C he wanted to reconcile. Um, not exactly T. Dirty C told two big fat lies to get you both thinking the other wanted to make up. Dirty C suggests that maybe they need professional help. Um, didn't they do that already? Thereser says maybe we need to go for holistic healing. I'm still amazed that these two bimbos are speaking cordially to each other. At the last reunion Thereser referred to Dirty C's midsection as "blubber, blubber, blubber" and according to Dirty C, Thereser's green dress marked her as a snake and Lauren Manzo was two blood pressure points away from leveling an M16 in Thereser's face. Anyhoo, Dirty C is, she tells us officially, out of this loop and who should leap into the breach but Drunk Ass Rosie. Super great! Oh, and before we leave the salon Dirty C does what she does best - state the fucking obvious - by officiously telling the gals that: "they will never be whole if they don't get over this stuff." Jesus H. Christ, Dirty C: STFU. Also, why are you dragging all the girls to a salon in NYC for makeovers when Lauren has a perfectly good makeover place - Cafface - right there in Joisey. Yeah, I know what you're thinking: what does Cafface even mean? Nothing. It means nothing. Lauren Manzo is an idiot.

Kathy wants to go into the mail order cannoli business and she's stuck with King Douchebag as her biz partner. Here he comes like a sledgehammer and announces he's ordered like 10K plain white shipping boxes. But wait! Kathy had it all planned to ship her cannolis in these pretty blue boxes each one tied with a striped ribbon. King Douchebag blows her off with his obnoxious assurance that those dainty little things would never make it. Kathy is understandably pissed off - this is HER business venture and King Douchebag is steamrolling all these decisions without even so much as a conversation. King Douchebag closes out the scene by telling us "I have to be involved in the business side. I married a housewife not an entrepreneur". Seriously, Kath, do you need the names of some really good lawyers? Just say the word, babe; just say the word.

The Stupid As Fuck Manzo kids are having dinner with Dirty C at her Hoboken apartment. "Barely Able To Tie His Shoes Chris" announces that he doesn't want to have kids. Praise Jesus, intones every viewer who actually is concerned with the future of the human species. Especially, he doesn't want a girl. Then he proceeds to utter some of the most offensive shit that anyone has said on these shows and in this three-ring circus of moronic bottom-feeders that's saying something. Here's what he said:

"If I had a girl, straight to the church steps with her. Because from birth to age 10 I have to make sure it doesn't die. From 10 to 25 I have to make sure she doesn't turn into a whore. That is a lot of pressure!"

I had to turn off the TV for awhile so that I could plan his demise in earnest. That DNA must NEVER enter the world. EVER. Damn he's a pinworm. But wait! It gets SO MUCH WORSE! Deeply, deeply self-hating sister Lauren joins in with a self-immolating glee to rival Pagliacci:

"Mom, you had it easy 'cause I was fat in my whore years so you didn't have to worry."

Dirty C, not to be outdone, and in the fun house mirror that is her horrific relationship with her children, says, while smirking along with her two sons:

"Hold up, now, you know what they say about fat girls."

Chris the pinheaded pinworm helpfully adds:

"Fat girls are blow job queens, everybody knows that".

Dirty C shakes her fake red hair in triumph! Did she raise these boys right or what? Meg Griffin's got nothing on Lauren Manzo! Lap Band Surgery or no Lap Band Surgery, their little sis will always be the fat blow job queen of the Manzo family. It's like Lord of the Flies in there. Andy Cohen, shame on you for airing that evil garbage, you degenerate whoremonger! The man has zero shame. Zero. You almost need a decontamination shower after watching something like that. Feh.

Drunk Ass Rosie makes her first foray into the world of family fence mending (basically because she's the only one who HASN'T done it yet) by inviting JSTA out for a drink. Their ensuing conversation has been had by a nearly infinite combination of the jackasses on this show over the last several years, so just imagine any version of the "we've gotta mend the family" combo and you're there. Oh, and at this point I'm pretty sure that Drunk Ass Rosie is a hopeless alcoholic. Also, JSTA? The omnipresent tiny knit cap winter and summer went out of style like five years ago, bro.

Again with the Manzos, (senior this time) who are cooking in their Hoboken apartment and, even though Al SR has been (supposedly) a restaurant owner his entire adult life, he can't make scrambled eggs without setting off the smoke alarm. Oy.

King Douchebag has gone ahead and leased Kathy an industrial kitchen so she can test all her new recipes. Kathy is again pissed that King Douchebag just went ahead and did something without so much as a chat about his plans. He tells us he found a place that rents by the day, by the hour - its a test kitchen. What alternate universe do these goombas live in where industrial kitchens are rented by the fucking hour? And what exactly are they cooking there? Paging Walter White...Also, the guy who leased him the place? Way sketchy.

Theresers writing her blog. So? She gets a call from "Ro" inviting her out for a drink to...have the same...boring...repetitive conversation. Even Thereser says: "here we go again." We're right there with you T.

Drunk Ass Rosie and Thereser meet for drinks to tawk, and scream at each other, but really its just to set up the Bravo producers' plan for the families to head to some holistic healing retreat to get...healed? We know this because Thereser has a scripted line reading wherein she reaches the conclusion that a holistic retreat is the way to go. How do we know its scripted?

1. Thereser would never come up with such a plan and,
2. She can't even read the lines without almost bursting out laughing.

Also? During their staged frenzied screaming: YOU'RE THE PROBLEM! YOUR SISTAS THE PROBLEM! Drunk Ass Rosie, while pounding the table in righteous indignation, manages to break her highball glass, spill her 80th scotch, and slice the fuck out of her hand. Please Bravo? An intervention for Ro? She could even get her own spinoff: Rosie In Rehab: The Dry Drunk Years!