A Post that Will Take up the Whole Interrnet

Yes, yes, yes - I know that the Internet is not going to be affected by my post. This is my way of announcing that I have a very long post coming up, so be prepared. Get a cup of tea or refreshing beverage of your choice, use the facilities, and settle in for War and Peace.

Actually, since this is about The Real Housewives of New York City and The Real Housewives of New Jersey, it's actually more accurate to say War and War.

I find these shows almost too horrible to watch, and yet I do. Watch. Them. And the reason I do? Because there is something sickly recognizable in so many of these women. Not that many people I know are quite as concentrated as the Housewives. But they are indeed real. Real scary, real sad, real strange...pick an adjective, and you probably have it.

It was harder to pin down the personalities of the Housewives in earlier seasons of these shows. The plain truth is that just about anyone can behave well for a short period of time without a camera, the Internet, and the eyes and ears of the world on them. For those that might have personality disorders and/or other major stressors in their lives, the camera simply increases the speed with which we see true colors. Add in millions of bloggers dissecting their thoughts (or just calling them ho-bags) and lives and you get the Perfect Season.

It is almost exhausting to have RHONY and RHONJ on at the same time, because the drama is so overwhelming. On the one hand, you have Jill Zarin, princess on the potty demanding we all watch her poop - or if you prefer, ice skate (for me, it's just too hard to watch either one). Then, on the other hand, you have Kelly Bensimon, perhaps the dimmest bulb of all but so filled with repressed anger that she has obviously tried to bottle up lo these many years only to have it ooze back from her mouth in a constant chorus of "zip its," "everybody hates yous" and similar rude but incoherent outbursts.

Darn it! In order to do the on one hand, then the other properly, I have to be Vishnu at least: there are a lot of hands in this discussion!

So - with my extra hands.

On the third hand, you have super-duper scary woman Danielle, nee Beverly. Danielle's scariness is not in her unsavory past - and it is REALLY an unsavory past, not just an uncomfortable one. No, Danielle's scariness is in her present. Between her Michael Jackson-esque looks and her paranoia and her viciousness and her - well, ALL of it, really - Danielle is the definitely the Housewife Nobody Can Trust for Even 10 Minutes.

Then on the fourth hand, you have Luann, who is really taking the countess darling thing way too far. Does she not understand that she is not behaving like royalty so much as she is behaving like Mrs. Thurston Howell III from Gilligan's Island? "Darling" this and "darling" that - really??? The fact that she can't countenance the word "ho-bag" redeemed her somewhat in my mind, but I still can't get over the fact that 1) the countess of class had her book cover photo photographed while she was posed across a bed and 2) that she behaves like a 13-year-old girl with Jill in their mindless and sadly desperate attempts to put Bethenny down (Bethenny being the plucky one who pulled herself up by her bootstraps and built herself a tidy little empire, plus found a man and had a baby to boot).

Tonight is the New York episode in which Jill and Bethenny finally talk it all over. I can't imagine that too many people are particularly pulling for Jill's sudden-realized wish for renewed friendship with Bethenny, who, after all, moved on from sitting around Jill's beach house when she was sad to feeling better and working and dating and all the goodies that lead from there. While Jill partied through her husband's illness in style (and blogged about "good times," no less), she nonetheless expected Bethenny to drop all for a good mani-pedi session in which Jill would get to cry and moan about how unfair life is. Because Jill's issue wasn't about Bethenny not knowing how sick Bobby was, but rather Jill's issue was about Bethenny not giving Jill the opportunity to play the victim Being Brave and Scared and Still Fabulous in front of Bethenny so Bethenny could witness Jill playing the victim Being Brave and Scared and Still Fabulous in front of Bethenny.

The important thing about all of that being: in front of Bethenny. Jill's angst is actually not even a blip if there is no audience for her to play her "emotions" off of. Jill Zarin, my friends, does not exist in a vaccuum.

Which is why Jill was so shocked to find out that somehow, while off her radar, Bethenny managed to get herself a series of hit books, a booming business, and a boyfriend. And Jill is mad, mad, mad at Bethenny - how dare that woman go and seek her own life when I was so good to her! when I was dealing with my poor sick husband! when I was bored!

And then the Other Shoes Falls: if Bethenny is getting married, then someone is going to have to advise (oh so tastefully, and maybe with the opportunity to shill her husband's fabric business) about the perfect event, and someone is going to get to be a bridesmaid (ooh, maybe even a matron of honor!), and someone is going to get the chance to see the bride's dress in advance, giving her the perfect chance to buy a dress that will upstage the bride on Her Big Day (who's big day? Jill's Big Day, of course!).

Let's not even go into all the media moment chances if Jill gets to throw the Engagement Party, the Bridal Shower, and the (oh, how exciting!) Baby Shower.

So, Jill realizes that she really, really, really played this entire thing pretty foolishly. Had she just said to Bethenny in the first place, "By the way, Bobby's sick and I need to talk, but I know how busy you are - let's have a little chat when you have a chance." And, should that not work out, just to say either, "That's it, she isn't really into my problems and maybe can't handle them, so I am going to just figure that she's not that kind of friend," or, "Well, she must have a lot on her plate, and we seem to be handling things beautifully, so good for her - love and this success is what we always wanted for her."

Because that way, your bridge is not incinerated and someday you can be friends or at least in the same room together.

Now, I am very happy for Bobby that all seems to have worked out for him. How nice he is to his sallow, moody and unattractive wife, and how sad that she behaves as if she is his homely but lovable daughter for whom he has to run interference, making himself look foolish and no doubt adding to his health problems.

The thing that made Jill Zarin the punchline of any joke during her fifteen minutes and long after: her initial belief that anyone would believe that her outrage at Bethenny had any basis in anything but Jill's own narcissism. Clue: she talked about it to anyone who would listen before she'd spoken to Bethenny herself. Clue: she threw Bethenny under the bus in dozens of documented incidents, including the infamous speakerphone RudeFest with the Countess of Crass, Luann von Luannberg de Luannness du Luannesito. Clue: she thought her own life was more important than Bethenny's. Bethenny and a boyfriend? Nyet! (only Jill may have a going relationship!). Bethenny and a successful business? Nyet! (only Jill may have a business - though technically, it was built by her husband's family, but since Jill works so hard as a salesgirl, I guess she'll get it lock, stock and barrel despite her bad taste and not-really-working-here vibe). Bethenny and best-selling books? Nyet! (Jill would like to do that first, though of course, thanks to people not being able to take Jill seriously as a role model for parenting, marriage or life, Jill's book was a serious flop - a Mr. T autobiography without the gravitas - and plus, it happened way after Bethenny was telling people how to get skinny and being entertaining about it made her a New York Times bestseller).

So - Jill is obviously trying to hitch her saggy-ass, liposucted, throw-her-water-on-her-food-so-she- won't-be-tempted-to-eat-it - the waiters be damed! - star to that of someone smarter, cooler and prettier - and Bethenny doesn't appear to be selling any tickets to social-climby, mean, childish witches.
By the way - have you noticed that any of the women on my Vishnu-esque hands have done nothing personally? A woman propped up by a guy who pays for handbags is a woman propped up by a guy who pays for handbags.

Get a freakin' accomplishment!

Figure out a way to buy your own handbags! And please - don't forget to get a handbag with a compartment for all your prescribed drugs.

Jill, I think you are a wiener.

Which leads me to - eenie, meenie, minie - who?

Kelly. I think she's a pretty sick ticket, but I also think that any murders or maimings that happen to the Housewives at Kelly's hands are totally on the souls, checkbooks and criminal records of the Good Folks at Bravo. She is scary because she has an already proven propensity for violence. Her poor children, which I throw in obviously for the sentimental vote, but which I also throw in because she took her kids out for a de facto happy meal to announce she was spreading all for a few dineros from Playboy magazine.

Thanks, mom! You're the best! Hardly anyone at my school will be commenting on your perky, but undeniably 4-decade-old, knockers! Thanks for making it so much easier to get through my adolescence!

Luann. Babe, I understand the whole song thing. Quite frankly, I can't sing, either. Iwould love to have someone airbrush me to within an inch of my younger, hotter, prettier self. So - I can't fault you for the song, which is just ridiculous, if in fact class is what you're after. This is not going to make you the chair of any of these charity events after which you're hankering. It's just going to make you the subject of giggles.

That guy - what is his name? Court? Really? Court? No. No. First of all, there's no way I believe he is entirely heterosexual if he has style. And if he is not trying to be gay and ironic, then he has no style.

Anyway, it is a bad bet, from his large, ungainly teeth to his haircut of which can only be said that it reminds me of the Simple Jack character from the Tropic Thunder movie.

Luann - do charity. Enjoy your children. Stop egging Jill on, because Jill is a tar-baby in every sense of the word - she brings upon you sticky, nasty feelings, and that's not just from Regular Folks who Might Enjoy You on Some Level but also from Important People who Might Give You a Real Life. Admit to everyone - loudly - that you made a huge mistake with the Sneaky Speakerphone Incident - you were vulnerable and fragile and not thinking like a girl who could advise other girls about how to behave. We all have our sad moments, and say this was one of yours.

Danielle. Last but yeast. Not a typo.

Honey, you have had every chance. But you bring Scraps (credit to Gawker, because THAT is the best possible name for that sad, John Cougar/bad guy you incorporated into your posse) and Keg (Kim G, the saddest of all possible climbers, who pretended to be a decent woman yet let you and Scraps talk foully about *ing up places up in a benefit for a baby with cancer)?

You know what - Damnielle gets a whole post when I have more time to list her list. And, as a Catholic school mother, I must say - if the Church doesn't denounce its airing of Damnielle's meeting with a priest, I may have to organize a mad-campaign to the Vatican, because that just completely cemented the whole priest-with-bad-judgment thing.

Real Housewives - SIngularly Unreal

Nobody does this, really.

Survivor: The Strange Tale of Russell

Survivor is a terrible show. I want to say that. As so many of the shows I end up watching, I really find it annoying and kind of well, stupid. I actually fast-forward through much of it, because I really don't want to hear them talking at ALL.

The one guy that I really liked is Russell. He is smart, he can survive, and he knows how to manage a tribe. If I were REALLY on an island, without the benefit of Kraft services and EMTs, I would much rather have Russell on my island than Sandra or Parvati, who would just eat my food and call me names behind my back.

The thing that Russell needs: my company. He needs someone who can take what he's thinking, package and re-package it, and ensure that he ends up not only making it to the end, but having people who will vote for him.

Russell is a great player - I cheered for him for both seasons he was on the show. However, Russell needs to understand that his fellow players fell into a handful of categories - whining coattail rider, mean girl, aged hippie, moon unit, Christian-on-sleeve (meaning that their Christianity seems to be a garment of convenience rather than an actual choice of lifestyle), and whack-a-doodle.

Russell, you big dope! You can't expect those people to simply say you are the best and be fair about it! These are the people who, if you fired them for not doing their work and for stealing out of the till at work, would complain that they were just mad because you never understood them.

There are a lot of stupid people out there - folks who think they are better, kinder, smarter, etc., -- than they are. You have to sell those people for what they actually are, not what you would expect them to be.

Two in One Day: She's Angry and She's Orange!

I can't believe I am posting twice in one day. I watched The Real Housewives of New York today, and while it was such a relief not to have to lay eyes on Jill Zarin, I had to blog about the amazingly nutso Kelly Bensimon.

(pictured below -- which photo is LuAnn de Lesseps, Jill Zarin and Kelly Bensimon?) 

 

I have to think that Kelly was trying to be nice by supporting Ramona Singer is her midlife marriage vow renewal bachelorette party. But she's too jealous of Bethenny Frankel's success (author, entrepreneur, fiancee, mom-to-be, chef, non-horse) to be able to be in her presence. Word vomit just POURS out. It doesn't help that Kelly doesn't seem to be very bright, and her puppet strings are being pulled by the self-centered Super Jealous Geriatric JAP, Jill Zarin.

There was a scene in which Kelly just freaked out about the fact that the women were discussing anxious epsiodes they had had with Jill, and rather than just saying something wise, such as, "It's uncomfortable for me to hear this -- I am going to step out for a minute," Kelly starts talking about the women at the table as being mean, desperate, etc. Kelly likes to tell people how above it all she is.

She's actually like Luanne de Lesseps in that way.

Anyway, after throwing her tantrum and turning her voice up notch after notch in an attempt not to have anyone argue with her (because she's too stupid to rebut a valid point), Kelly flounces out with a Big Entrance. But then she couldn't find the door -- she just went from glass pane to glass pane looking for the way out. Finally, a waitress opened the door for her.

Bethenny's father had just died, and though Bethenny did not have a good relationship with him (because he was selfish and not a very good parent), she was obviously conflicted. I don't know why it is that Kelly can't understand that sometimes grief is not about losing something precious, but rather about losing the possibility of something precious. Because Kelly just tells Bethenny to basically get over herself.  Because only Kelly has valid feelings, and she doesn't dwell on them -- but this, of course, is because Kelly is about as introspective as linoleum.

She also thinks feelings are, like, so 1979. Wow - way to use history to present a point of contention.

Later, Bethenny is sitting there just being sober (the only one, btw) and, out of the blue, Kelly goes apeshit on her! I hate to use this word, but this is the Actual Psychiatric Term for it. She tells Bethenny that Bethenny is NOT A REAL CHEF, and nobody cares about her, nobody cares about her, nobody cares about her.

Umm, well, yeah. Nobody, except Bethenny's now-husband (then-fiance), the millions who bought her books, the millions who drink her Skinnygirl Margarita, the hundreds of thousands who eat who Bethenny Bakes products, her friends - oh, and yeah -- Kelly and Jill (and hanger-on LuAnn), who can do nothing but talk about Bethenny.

And then, Kelly tells Sonya (the new housewife, the one who talks a lot about sex), that she doesn't believe in one-night stands and that if Sonya had it like Kelly, she wouldn't give it away. I think by this, Kelly means the penis. None of the other Housewives has one.

And THEN - out of the blue, Kelly accuses Bethenny of sleeping around America and calls her a ho-bag. And she's proud of this! It's the actual Best She Can Do!

Bethenny basically roars with laughter at this: she's sober, and she's way smarter than Kelly and her Spray Tan and her Columbia degree which shows exactly how worthless a Columbia education must be. And she tells Kelly that she's the most unintelligent person that she's ever been around.

Points on Bethenny's side:

1. Kelly doesn't know what eating crow means
2. When the other Housewives are talking about a wine shortage, Kelly exhorts them not to stomp the grapes as she planned to eat them.
3. She tells the other Housewives that they better not make lemons out of lemonade (and no, she's not being ironic)
4. She's proud of the ho-bag insult
5. Kelly was texting and mobile-phoning her every move to Jill and LuAnn, who opted not to go because they would both look like cottage cheese in bikinis

Apparently, Kelly is very proud of her Columbia degree (which she may have earned, but which is no credit to Columbia, as Kelly is as dumb as Formica) and believes that SHE HERSELF is not a ho-bag, despite the fact that her only claim to fame is marrying a fashion photog and staying married long enough to have Child Support Worthy Children. She's not a reporter, she's not an editor, she's just a girl whose sexual abiltiies captured the attention of an old guy with clout for a while. And actually -- I am not sure that she's a GIRL.

In fact, when Kelly was arrested for assaulting her boyfriend last year, the New York PD entered her as a Male. Also 145 pounds. That's a lot of Male!

Kelly is also being sued by a woman from Elle magazine who designed the Owl jewelry that Kelly claims to have designed. The fact that these are really ugly pieces of jewelry and that Kelly stole the idea is beside the point - some people have God-awful taste - the fact is Kelly has never had an original idea in her stupid life.

I mean, two daughters? My mother had two daughters and then an extra one to boot. THAT'S original.

Now, more about my mother - she likes LuAnn. I do not understand that, because my mother usually has fairly good judgment.

Mom -- how can you like a woman who claims to have class but who tongue-kisses a Flock of Seagulls look-alike in a crappy feel-good "we have drinks to change you mood" (who doesn't) bar in Chinatown? And then -- this seflsame woman CLAIMS TO HAVE CLASS.

Mother - if one of your daughters did that, you'd be very disappointed. Also, and I hate to tell you this, but I suspect that LuAnn has chipped nail polish.

Scum of the Earth Forces 9-Year-Old Son into Oven

A real winner named James Moss from Staten Island got a little annoyed with his little 9-year-old son Wednesday and devised a wee bit of punishment: he held the boy's hands over his stove's burner for two minutes, then forced the kid to get naked, smacked him in the face, hit him with a spatula, dragged him across the store and shoved him into his oven. All the while threatening to burn him alive.

First of all, if this guy is employed, the employer better get rid of him. People tend not to patronize businesses that employ MONSTERS.

Secondly, Monster Moss is now sitting in Riker's Island, of Law & Order fame. Hopefully, he is not so much sitting as bending over and being well, hospitable, to the lonely lads on the cellblock.

Now, the kid was rummaging through his dad's wallet, and if he stole money from him, he was wrong. However, there are many other ways of dealing with kids in this situation. I don't think that forcing him into an oven is a rational or even sane option.

Mr. Moss is right up there with another evil parent, Lynne Middlebrooks Geter of Meriwether County, Georgia, who forced her 11-year-old son to kill his pet hamster with a hammer because she was mad about a bad grade the kid had received.

You know - this kind of person really ups the argument for post-natal abortion (theirs, not their kids').

Bathroom Reading (if you are trying to vomit): Jill Zarin's Book of Stereotypes

I truly believe that when Secrets of a Jewish Mother was pitched, it was with the idea that the content would be clever and funny. It really wasn't. This book was banal and trite, and fairly chock full of ridiculous "witticisms" about how you can cheat your husband, outsmart your social colleagues, and generally feel smug and self-satisfied by repeating a pseudo-funny mantra or two to yourself.

The book is the by-product of the dubious fame garnered by Jill Zarin, a social climber one step away from her roots in the wholesale houses of less glamorous boroughs of the Big Apple who is one of the hausfraus on The Real Housewives of New York City, a very horrific show on Bravo which is tantamount to spray cheese: really lacking in value but interesting to watch.

Jill Zarin's name appears front and center at the bottom of the book cover, where Jill stands in all her middle-aged, air-brushed glory with her mother and her sister (the mother's name and the sister's name are teeny-tiny compared to Jill's, because this is all part of Jill's desperate attempt to make herself relevant). The book allegedly shares with readers all of the touching and heart-warming advice that has made Jill's family so successful and happy in their lives.

Among these include the advice to only marry a rich man even if you don't love him, marry a man who loves you more than you love him so that you'll always have the upper hand, and steal money out of your husband's pants when he is asleep.

I want to add that perhaps this snarky tone might have been less grating had Jill Zarin not negatively reinforced every piece of advice in the book with her odd rants and self-indulgent histrionics on the TV show that made it possible for someone like her to have a book in the first place.

Jill believes that reviewers are reviewing the TV show and not the book: I disagree with that assessment. This is an advice book, ostensibly written by someone whose life is so well-managed that the rest of us should take heed of her wisdom, experience and insight. Because of this, Jill's behavior is directly linked to the value of the book.

I have to point out that a lot of people don't buy Tiger Woods' products anymore, either.

THE REVIEW? Even without her bad actions, Jill's book is flat and smug, poorly written and carelessly edited -- this was clearly a project aimed at a speedy release to ensure that the Penguin Group cashed in on what surely will only be 15 minutes of reader interest.

E*Trade Baby Slams Lindsay Lohan - And Who Cares?

Apparently Lindsay Lohan is suing E-Trade because of its Superbowl ad in which the Main E*Trade Baby is cheating on his baby girlfriend, and the girlfriend asks about "Lindsay, that milkaholic."

Lindsay Lohan automatically assumed they were talking about her, and now she's suing.

Which is so stupid. Lohan has been seen drinking a lot, but Lindsay is a very common name.

Chill, bi-otch.