I hate it when Bravo gets ambitious and makes episodes of Real Housewives of New Jersey 15 minutes longer. Or any of the Real Housewives franchises, really. There’s always 15 minutes of footage in them that no one cares about anyway, so why not cut that stuff and make our weekly exposure to these feral women a little bit shorter?
Last night’s episode was mostly about a gross, drunken trip to the Catskills, but we checked in for a while with Kathy and Melissa anyway, even though they weren’t invited. And really, it would have been ok to leave them out entirely! You can leave a cast member out occasionally, Bravo. It won’t make us mad. Sometimes we’d even appreciate it.
We started exactly where last week ended, with Teresa and Melissa locked in a windowless padded room in Jacqueline’s house, trying to get to a place where they could pretend to like each other. Teresa tried to me a tad diplomatic and posited that perhaps both couples had done things to hurt the other and that they could both apologize for those things and move on. Melissa denied any wrongdoing of any sort and refused to admit fault, somehow managing to make Teresa look calm, rational and mature by comparison. When you’re sitting next to Teresa “Prostitution Whore” Giudice in a room full of cameras and you’re the one that comes out look petty and irrational, you need to reevaluate every life decision you’ve made up to that point in order to try and figure out where things went so horribly and irreversibly wrong.
At some point they both forgot what they were arguing about and said that they would put everything in the past, hug it out and be a family again. But then one of them didn’t like the other’s tone of voice or something and they dissolved into arguments again, this time about Melissa storming out of Teresa’s mom’s house years prior and whether or not that was appropriate. Jacqueline decided to unchain the door and offer them both cookies, which distracted both of them long enough to get them looking at some old photos and talking about better times. As it turned out, that was a stroke of brilliance. I would assume that introducing something shiny to the room would have had the same effect on those two. Somehow, everyone left Jacqueline’s house uninjured.
Elsewhere, everyone was preparing for Teresa’s trip to the Catskills. Generally our Housewives go to the beach or a foreign country, so the prospect of sending them out into the country to “rough it” for a few days intrigued me. They made sure to pack plenty of guns and booze, because those are the makings of any successful family trip, so surely nothing could go wrong, right? …Right? Thankfully Teresa didn’t invite Melissa and Nonjuicy, so we were spared witnessing at least two murders. Based on how ‘roided out Nonjuicy seems, that estimate may be low.
While most of the group was packing and traveling, Kathy and her husband were having a very “casual” conversation about how maybe they should open a restaurant or bakery. Because, if you remember, Kathy “casually” brought a full tasting menu of customized pastries and desserts to Thansksgiving, and the show’s cameras just “happened” to be there and capture the whole spread in loving HD detail. So maybe they’ll go look at some space. “Maybe.” Such poorly masked setups like this one are starting to irritate me quite a bit. We know what’s going on, Bravo. We can see the man behind the curtain!
We then checked in with the other group. The one that was going on vacation. Remember them? They had all arrived at the Catskills, thrown their bags in their rooms and immediately started drinking. And when they had downed a few glasses of Joe’s stinky wine, everyone started talking about blowjobs, and whether or not Teresa has ever given a decent one. And I’m not going to recount the conversation in any further detail, because I think that I’ve blocked it out for my own sanity. You should work on doing that as well, if you haven’t already. LA LA LA LA, I CAN’T HEAR YOU DISCUSSING SEX, REAL HOUSEWIVES.
Thankfully since they were all drunk, the topic quickly changed to food, because the only appropriate topics for drunk conversation are sex and food. Teresa and Jacqueline made dueling pizzas, one of which had Nutella on it, and I couldn’t pay attention long enough to find out whose pizza was better because I was too busy trying to figure out if anyone in New York City would deliver me Nutella on a Sunday night. (I was unsuccessful.)
As a result, I’m not sure how the show transitioned from dessert pizza to what we saw next, but it did, and now we have to deal with it. The next thing I knew, Teresa and Joe were rolling around in bed and Teresa was waving a vibrating cock ring and the whole thing made my brain leak out of my ears. And I’m assuming that it was a used cock ring, which…I mean. I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t get paid enough to think thoughts about Teresa’s used cock ring. I’m not sure if I could be paid enough for to think about it. Bravo, I’ll ask you again: Please spare us from Real Housewives sexytime. They’re ruining the subject for the rest of us. I can’t believe I just wrote “vibrating cock ring” in a professional capacity.
After that horror show, they shot some guns. They were shooting them while Caroline and her family were pulling up to join the trip, and because Caroline is sane and rational, she nearly turned the car around to skid back down the hill and all the way home. She forbade her kids from playing with the guns or getting on the four-wheelers after drinking, and the fact that Teresa thought those safety measures were silly is as good an argument as you’ll ever get for natural selection. They’re just trying to take themselves out of the gene pool, even if they don’t know it. Just let ’em do it. It’s better for humanity that way, Caroline.
Eventually, the ladies got bored and wandered in to town to buy some food and inquire about the area’s nightlife, which the shop owner said would make you swear you’re in New York City. In turn, I wondered if the dude had ever been to a bar in Manhattan, but I’m willing to suspend disbelief. Meanwhile, the boys were back home and still shooting guns and driving four-wheelers and perhaps doing both at the same time, which just proves to everyone that rednecks don’t just exist in the South. They’re everywhere, y’all. Some of them have TV shows. Most of them are armed.
When everyone returned back to the country house, a roast pig was carted out so that one of the Housewives (Caroline this time) could have a negative reaction and we could all mark “animal carcass” off on our Official Real Housewives Bingo Cards. And really, I’d like to kick that one off the card because watching people get grossed out by food that they’d normally eat when confronted with the source of it is predictable and juvenile. We eat animals. If you’re not comfortable with that, or with confronting the fact that something died so that you could have dinner, consider vegetarianism. Pork roasts aren’t manufactured from thin air out behind the local grocery store.
When they got done eating and Caroline got done dry heaving, Jacqueline and her husband had some more to drink and then hopped on a four-wheeler to tool around in the dark. Can I just be a little serious for a second? It is monumentally, almost incomparably stupid to drink and get on one of those. Are there people out there who don’t know someone who’s died on one of those things? Because I certainly do. Caroline did. It’s not uncommon. Particularly if you’re a drunk asshole. A motorized vehicle + uneven ground + dark + alcohol = dead people. But like I said about Teresa shooting giant guns in her zebra pajamas and heinous Wookie boots: Maybe it’s just natural selection at work. Maybe the universe is trying to kill off the Housewives.
Ok, seriousness finished. Back home, Melissa and Kathy and their respective husbands attended what appeared to be some sort of community amateur dance recital at the local Elks Lodge, which featured far more adult (not adult adult, just…grown people) acts than seemed normal. Melissa’s kid finally came out and danced around with a grown man a little bit and Melissa was thrilled, because somewhere in those few minutes, she saw enough to be sure that her kid is a star. Maybe she can be the bait in the next episode of To Catch a Predator? From the dance routine, it looked as though that would be the next logical step.
Back in the mountains, the group was headed out on the town for the night, and in the words of Teresa, “It was like Fifth Avenue inraided the Catskills.” There are a few things wrong with that statement, other than the fake word. First, Teresa wouldn’t know Fifth Avenue if she got hit by a cab in the middle of it. Second, I’m betting the clubs that she thinks are really chic and fancy are in Meatpacking, not on Fifth. Teresa is B&T, after all. The entire group did indeed “inraid” the local dive bar, and during their stay, they made proper fools of themselves in basically every way that they knew how. Mostly, I’m just glad that none of them got on the stripper poles that I saw on either side of the bar’s small stage, because if there’s one thing that I never, ever need to see again, it’s a Real Housewife on a pole.
You shouldn’t forget that our Jersey cast members are all good, upstanding Catholics, though, so they had to go to the chapel before they departed to absolve themselves of all the wine-drinking and gun-shooting (not to mention sex-talking) they had done all weekend. And somehow, they didn’t all spontaneously catch on fire immediately after entering the building. God works in mysterious ways.