The Wrassle At The Castle: Part Three

Most of this episode was listening to Dr. Eyetalian Vajayjay speak quietly to Thereser, JSTA and Melissa using all the active listening skills available to her from her University of Phoenix course in behavioral psychology. Which is to say we heard alot of "I hear what you're saying but..." and..."can you look at Theresa when you say those words?...and..."you guys need more alone time for just the two of you and nobody else." That last one was frankly kinda wierd, but you gotta know what you're going to get when you engage someone who specifically states that her vagina is "all Italian". I gotta say, though, that listening to Thereser describe how she and her mother practically wiped JSTA's ass until he got married told me alot about this somewhat suffocating brother/sister relationship picture that has emerged over the last few seasons. Thereser talked about JSTA more like a son than a brother and the look on his face made me think even more than ever that JSTA is really, really kinda slow mentally. Like without using that bad word that starts with an "r" and has become a denizen of the verbal plutonium list in polite conversation. Not that this blog would EVER pretend to be even remotely polite. But even The ABIB has limits, so...

Anyway, in the space of only one commercial break, Dr. V cured what by all intents and purposes, has been presented to us as long years of built up resentment and outright murderous hostility amongst the Gorgas and Guidices. They families hadn't spoken nor seen each other in 18 months, yet Dr. V and her magical Eyetalian Vajayjay had them all singing Kumbaya (including a grudging Juicy Joe) within 15 minutes. Bravo is SO setting her up for her own show. You heard it here first. Once the crocodile tears were shed and everyone hugged and made nice, Dr. V departed, like Mary Poppins sans umbrella, to her next miraculous cure and/or the film set for her Bravo pilot.

Back in the dining room, those left behind, namely everyone save the Joes, Thereser and Melissa, were steadily drinking their Mimosas and Bloody Marys and morosely conjecturing what was going on upstairs. The best part though, is that Dirty C, who ostensibly raced up to the drama as soon as she got T's call, was left twiddling her thumbs with the rest of the second stringers in the dining room. Why did I love that part, you ask? Because FOR ONCE Dirty C, who supposedly HATES DRAMA yet always inserts herself into the middle of it, was left in the "professional problem solver" wake of Dr. V and her University of Phoenix uber-cred. Yeah, Dirty C, even if Dr. V DID get her "degree" in an online fake "university" at least she got something to show for her pratlling nonsense. HAH!

Now that everyone was all lovey-dovey again, the boys and Drunk Ass Rosie decided to go ice fishing and the girls commenced to cooking and drinking in earnest. Also, hang-dog Kathy was griping under her breath about being left out yet again, of the Thereser "I want to be a fambly" drama because - "hey - ain't I fambly to her?" Sorry, Kath, you may be my favorite but you're just not crazy and/or obnoxious enough to be included in the nut-o-thon swirling around the Gorgas and Guidices. And I know it might hurt but trust me, sister, it's for the best. So the boys head out, with their own hootch, natch; Christ can't any of these fucking goons go for half an hour without drinking? They employ the service of a local ice fisherman to charter them their own private tiptoe through (around?) the frighteningly thin ice - shit some of it was melted down to the water - to their fishing hole. The camera kept capturing his expression, a cross between frightened and doubtful that anyone this stupid could even walk upright, as the boys engaged in what they do best - trash talking and bitching about each other to their faces. JJ taunted JSTA with the question: "You gonna cry again?" For his part JSTA stared dumbly at his bro-in-law but said nothing. Good on you, JSTA - it's 2013; men, even hopped-up-on-steriods goombas like you, are allowed to cry. Hells Bells, even Tony Soprano cried for fucks sake!

Back at the Castle the girls were cooking up a storm, except for Melissa, who announced shortly after the party began that she didn't want to cook, she just wanted to drink. And that she did; Melissa got shit-faced hammered and it was during this sequence, when her guard was drastically lowered by the alcohol, that it became clear to me what a nasty bitch Melissa really is. She always plays the victim card on RHONJ, but honestly she came across as just plain mean and nasty and I've officially benched her down with Dirty C and her pain-in-the-ass kids as the lowest common denominator on this show. Feh.

The boys quickly tired of sitting on the ice and hanging fishing rods into the water below and decided it was time to trudge on back, which they did to the great relief of their "guide". Once back at the Castle they, too, began to binge drink with their women folk and soon everyone was eight sheets to the wind and they decided to play some trust games. Um, why? Because BRAVO WROTE IT THAT WAY, THAT'S WHY! The game they finally landed on (pun intended) was "trust falls". You know the drill, someone has to fall backwards into the arms of another person to prove that they, the falling person, trusts the catching person. Drunk-to the-point-of-word-slurring Melissa insisted that she had to trust fall with Juicy Joe - and be the catcher! Everyone tried mightily to talk her out of it. For one thing, he appears to outweigh her by about 80 pounds and for another thing she was DRUNK and wearing a pair of her ubiquitous stilletto heels. But she would have none of it and soon we were treated to the sight of a drunk JJ falling into an even drunker Melissa and them both crashing to the floor which caused everyone - also trashed - to be delighted at the sight of those two collapsed in a heap on the carpet. Drunk people are cute for about three minutes and then they get really old really fast. Finally Thereser insisted that Dirty C do her trust fall with T as the catcher. Dirty C put up a decently timed fight but T got her way, with one stipulation from Dirty C, namely that Thereser call Jacqueline and make peace. Probably not even realizing in her boozy haze exactly what she was agreeing to, Thereser said "OK". Back Dirty C fell into Thereser's waiting arms and nobody fell down, thereby ending the drunk evening as everyone retreated to their respective rooms. JSTA, continuously needing to prove his manhood, outloud, to everyone, hoisted a loaded Melissa across his shoulders and loudly announced as he headed upstairs that he wasn't going to waste any more time getting some good drunk sex with his wife. Hell she probably wouldn't even remember it. Hmmmm...isn't that called date rape in another sitch? Just sayin'.

So next week we're back to New Jersey and the daily issues plaguing these fretful nimcompoops. Little Town is behind schedule and Dirty C is all back in her kids' shit, especially Little Al, who in the preview, appears to be too serious for her taste. I will conclude with one of my old saws: Dirty C: STFU. See you next week!