So where are the vampires and werewolves? Last night was the premiere of Mob Wives: New Blood. I liked the stylized new opener…after three seasons, it was long overdue. I do take issue with all that wasted wine though!
Renee Graziano hopes that her ex-husband rots in jail. She can't be bothered with his suffering because she's starting a clothing line to compliment her Boss Bitch shoe line. A.J. is still living at home, but thank goodness, he's got a job. Renee shares that her father is about to be released from prison. Life is going well for her…thank goodness. I think we were all terrified of Renee when it wasn't! After opening her new bar in Miami, Big Ang is thrilled to be back in Staten Island. She calls up Renee to get an earful about Renee's latest fashion endeavor. Renee's friend and newbie co-star Alicia DiMichele Garofalo is throwing a party, and the ladies can't wait to attend.
I guess all the crystals in the world can't heal stupidity. Reality television's original villain and his surgically enhanced wife are finally admitting what we've all known for years…they were foolish. Heidi Montag was the fresh-faced, doe-eyed biffle of Laguna Beach alum Lauren Conrad when the girls conquered The Hills. Enter Spencer Pratt as Heidi's love interest and friendships crumble, siblings take sides, and the ridiculousness that is Speidi was born.
They started out tame enough, but quickly morphed into the most hated couple that seemed to thrive off of their horrific reputations. Then Heidi went and became a human Barbie getting oodles of plastic surgery including basketball sized tatas, and Spencer became obsessed with quartz. It didn't end well. Thankfully, they faded off into obscurity…kind of.
Apparently, its only on Bravo when stars get turned down for televised weddings (sorry Gretchen Rossi!), but on any other network the acquaintances of barely featured reality stars can have their walk down the aisle shoved down the viewers' throats. Well, technically I guess we don't have to watch…but we all know I can't pass up train wreck television!
When will reality stars learn? Alright, I realize the answer is "never," but throw me a bone, people! We have seen enough fame whores dying to have Bravo cameras following them around, but they don't give a second thought to the fact that the fleeting fifteen minutes will undoubtedly unleash all of the skeletons in their closets.
"That will never happen to me," they all say. Clearly these folks have heard of the Giudices, right? The public is always going to find out your business if you put it on television! Not shockingly, the newest reality stars to fall victim to this truth will be a new couple on the upcoming season of Real Housewives of Orange County.
Just when I thought pimp momager Kris Jenner couldn't get any worse, she posts the above picture of herself on Instagram (captioned "Date Night"–gag) sporting tween duck face and dining with Francine from the PBS cartoon Arthur. On the heels of the tabloids covers touting a not-so-secret romance between the icky reality star and former BachelorBen Flannel, er, I mean Flajnik.
And what does poor estranged husband Bruce Jenner think of all this messiness? For his sake, I hope he realizes that life is far better out of Kris' klutches. I wonder if he ever gets the itch to spill what he knows about loyal and doting wife. We all know if the tables were turned, she'd do it in a heartbeat!
Well I know that hell hasn't frozen over because it's pushing eighty degrees here on the coast of South Cackalacki, but I don't have any other rational explanation for this reality news. Much like the Grinch, it appears that some ladies in the Garden State have hearts that are growing and growing. 'Tis the season, right?
Past, present, and future Real Housewives of New Jersey stars–and sisters–and technically still sisters-in-law (ya follow me?)–Caroline and Dina Manzo have reconciled after a long and anti-climactic feud. I know, I know. I can't believe it either!
You know what? Every week I snark on the women of Love & Hip Hop for being huge dolts and letting the idiot men in their lives make them look like fools on national television. I'm not going to stop now. Wake up, Tara Wallace! See the light, Amina Buddafly! All this drama over Peter Gunz? I'll never understand it, and this is coming from a girl who has had her fair share of winners in the dating lottery and made several of the mistakes these ladies continue to make. No, I've never secretly married another woman's boyfriend and tattooed his name on my rib cage (yet), but I have certainly believed a liar or three.
Speaking of another L&HH damsel who keeps finding herself in the same predicament is Tahiry Jose. The poor girl tries to stand up to Joe Budden, but the nutty professor is always able to lure her back and somehow make her feel guilty for his bad behavior. It's diabolical…he should be a politician!
I can only say "bless his heart" so many times before I stop meaning it. I think I probably stopped meaning it about twenty "blesses" ago when it comes to Kanye West. The man's ego is out of control. I'd really like to sit down with him for just fifteen minutes to see if he really is as painfully egotistical as he seems. He could style me. I'd wear a crystal mask and report back the truth. It's an open invitation, 'Ye. You can even bring Marilyn MonroeKim Kardashian. No, no, don't bring her. Regardless, call me!
The tiny rapper has been especially douchetastic this week, throwing a temper tantrum on stage at a Florida concert and commissioning what I'm sure he considers to be the next, no make that the first and best, Mona Lisa. I'm sorry DaVinci, but Andy Warhol's niece? She's got the best painting of all time. Of all time! Bless his heart.