As expected, Juicy Joe (more like Extra Juicy Joe because he looks like he chewed a piece of Willy Wonka’s three-course meal gum for breakfast) and his gorilla grifting partner Teresa Giudice of The Real Housewives of New Jersey did the walk of shamelessness into the Federal Courthouse in Newark, NJ this morning and pleaded guilty to fraud as part of a plea deal. Juicy and Teresa actually had to repeat the word “guilty” a few times, because the judge had a hard time hearing them over the sound of Melissa Gorga loudly fapping and cackling at the same time in the back row of the court room.
NorthJersey.com says that Juicy Joe pled guilty to 5 counts of fraud and Teresa pled guilty to 4 counts. Last July, they were charged with 41 counts of fraud for faking pay stubs and W-2s to get $5 million in different types of loans. Juicy Joe was also charged with not filing taxes from 2004 through 2008 even though he made around $1 million. They were facing up to 50 years in the chokey, but under the plea deal, Juicy Joe could sit in prison for at least 3 years and Teresa could be making fake tanner out of roach shit and orange peels in prison for 21 to 27 months. In my earlier post about this messiness, I said that there was talk that Teresa could only get probation, but apparently she’s looking at spending time in prison, so she should start practicing stuffing her coochie with the contraband rhinestone and gold accessories she’ll need to properly accessorize her orange jumpsuit.
Sentencing isn’t until July 8th and the judge doesn’t have to stick with the perimeters of the plea deal.
If Juicy and Teresa didn’t take the plea deal, they would’ve gone to trial on April 14th. Since most humans hate these two dumb bitches and the feds had mountains of shit on them, they probably would’ve been found guilty of many of the charges and Bravo would’ve had to fast-track The Real Cellmates of The Edna Mahan Correctional Facility For Women. So these two brain-dead con chimps really had no other choice but to take the deal.
I wonder where Juicy and Teresa’s daughters will go since they are bitch fighting with most of their family members. You know, if Juicy and Teresa left their girls in their big ass mansion to fend for themselves and the power, gas and water was eventually shut off and all they had to eat were wet leaves and a bunch of mice took pity upon them and started to care for them, they’d probably be better off than being raised by these two fuck sores.
Here’s Extra Juicy Joe and Greta Gremlin walking into court today. In Teresa’s defense, she did show the court that she’s not overspending like normal by wearing a coat she made herself with Juicy Joe’s shaved-off butt hairs.
This picture sums it up. Ramona Singer is all the way lit up and is giving all her love to the camera while Mario Singer eye fucks some sweet ass over yonder with his peen-shaped gaze.
Just a week after Ramona of The Real Housewives of New York City and her husband of 27 years Mario got into a fight at their Hamptons home when she caught him with his side slut turned main slut, she has filed legal papers to officially stab the heart of their marriage with a broken Pinto Grigio bottle. Mario and Ramona have been separated for a while and he’s been humping on some 20-something piece while she does the same thing, but she’s decided to cut the cord completely. Kathie Lee Gifford’s spirit (as in gin) animal filed for divorce in Manhattan’s Supreme Court (which sadly, isn’t led by Fiona “Knotty Piiiiiiiiiiiine” Goode) on Tuesday and she wants their NYC apartment and their fancy house in the Hamptons. Ramona tweeted this yesterday:
“Thank you all for the love & support! For my daughter’s sake, I would appreciate everyone respecting our privacy during this difficult time.”
I love it when a mess who is on a reality show and squirts about her personal shit to tabloids and The New York Post puts a “privacy please” sign over her life. So when Ramona goes on Watch What Happens Live and fills Andy Cohen’s ears with manufactured tears as she cry moans about how Mario did her wrong, I will respect her privacy by changing the channel to House Hunters International. When Ramona shows up on the season premiere of RHoNY and starts squawking about her private shit, I will respect her privacy by changing the channel to reruns of the Puppy Bowl (aka another show where un-potty trained animals slobber and jump on each other). You can count on me, RaMoanAh!
And of course, Jill Kamen Zarin™ piped in about this:
— Jill Kamen Zarin™ (@Jillzarin) January 27, 2014
I should say that Jill Zarin’s assistant piped in about this, because Jill Zarin was unable to tweet since she was too busy furiously rubbing herself while overdosing on gleeeeeeeeeeeeee.
A few months ago, crazy-eyed Ramona Singer of The Real Housewives of New York swore on the secret recipe for Ramona Pinot Grigio (read: turtle piss, white grape juice and meth) that her husband of 27 years Mario Singer stuck his raw 60-year-old peen into his 20-something socialite side piece and knocked her up. The socialite type Kacey Dexter later got an abortion. Ramona denied it all, but I guess she recently wiped the Pinot out of her eyes and is sick of Mario coming home smelling like a snatch that isn’t hers, because she kicked his ass out and hopped on a 20-something-year-old piece herself.
Page Six says that Mario didn’t stop boning Kacey Dexter and Ramona finally kicked him out of their UES apartment recently and she let him stay at their house in Southampton. Ramona hasn’t been crying on her back like an out-of-water trout gasping for air. She went out on a date with some 20-something dude named Travis Millard last Thursday. Everything was Pinot and rainbows until Ramona went to their house in the Hamptons on Friday night and caught Mario with that tramp Kacey. Ramona, being the wine bottle full of 100 proof drama that she is, called the cops and when they showed up she told them that Mario choked her out. Page Six’s source says that Ramona made that part up and neither of them got violent on each other.
No one was arrested and zero charges were pressed. But before the cops left, Ramona threatened them with a good time by offering them a glass of Ramona Pinot. It wasn’t turtle time for the cops, so they declined her invitation and left.
This could be a STUNT QUEEN move to promote the new season of RHoNY, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. To me, Ramona and Mario have always looked like swingers who shouldn’t be swingers. You know, they are probably a total drag at swingers parties. Mario quickly gets himself a piece to fuck and after Ramona gets completely coked up, she suddenly gets jealous, pulls Mario off of his piece, slaps his peen, slaps his piece’s tits and then gets kicked out. Ramona cries and screams in the car ride home and Mario has to stop at a gas station to relieve his blue balls by jacking off into the bathroom sink. That pretty much sums up their entire marriage to me.
And I know Mario redefines slimey, but I still would.
When I first read about Apollo Nida of The Real Housewives of Atlanta getting busted for allegedly (uh huh) committing bank fraud and identity theft, I expected the National Weather Service to warn everybody to hold down their wigs, because Kenya Moore’s going to twirl out a stage 4 twirlnado after hearing the best news she’s ever heard!
After a long investigation, which started February 2012, Phaedra Parks’ donkey booty deflated when her pretty boy prison piece trophy husband surrendered to federal officials on Thursday night and was charged with doing all sorts of illegal shady shit before he was released on $25,000 bail. The Atlanta Journal Constitution reports that a U.S. Secret Service Agent in the Counterfeit and U.S. Treasury Check Squad discovered that Apollo created fake companies so he could get into the LexisNexis and Equifax databases and find victims to rip the hell off. The shifty bitch went all the way in by opening fake bank accounts under real identities and he “funneled stolen U.S. Treasury checks and auto loan proceeds into those accounts.”
Apollo was ratted out by his accomplice Gayla St. Julien (Note: If that’s not the perfect name for a scheming grifter, I don’t know what is) who was arrested in September. After Apollo stole an identity, Gayla St. Julien, who calls herself Apollo’s “right hand bitch,” pretended to be them to open up bank accounts. After the feds found 40 accounts tied to her, she opened her mouth and sang. Gayla St. Julien claims that Apollo was the mastermind and she made nothing from their schemes compared to what he made. AJC broke down Apollo and Gayla St. Julien’s schemes:
Nida would allegedly steal real people’s identities and have St. Julien pretend to be them to open bank accounts. She would then deposit fraudulent auto loan checks, stolen U.S. Treasury checks, stolen retirement checks issued to Delta Airlines employees, and checks in the names of real people that were owed unclaimed property from various state and federal government agencies, according to the criminal complaint.
He also opened a fake auto dealership (such as Ferrari Autohaus) and apply for auto loans in the names of stolen identities. After the arrest, the agents had St. Julien tape record conversations with Nida in which he explained many of his schemes. At one point, they obtained a federal search warrant of Nida’s vehicle and seized evidence, including a bank debit card in the name of Ferrari Autohaus Inc., cell phones and a laptop computer.
Before Apollo became Phaedra’s trophy husband, he served 5 years in prison for violating federal racketeering laws.
And yesterday, Kenya opened up her fan and let everyone know that she called out Apollo and Phaedra’s dirtiness a long time ago:
Losers never win. I have always seen through ppl and I was the first to tell you last season about these ppl and who they really are. #dirty
— KENYA MOORE (@KenyaMoore) January 25, 2014
First Teresa Giudice and Juicy Joe and now Apollo and Fakedra?! Why would I not be surprised if Droopy Dog Vicki from The Real Housewives of Orange County is busted after the feds find out that she was stealing identities from her insurance company and using them to get loans to fund her exquisite necklace collection?
The RHOA reunion shoots soon, so an enormous dome of shade will cover the entire state of Georgia when Kenya comes for Phaedra. That’s if she doesn’t spontaneously combust from smugness beforehand.
On last night’s episode of The Real Plastic Trash of Beverly Hills, they all went to Palm Springs together and sadly the desert sun didn’t melt all the silicone in their bodies and turn them into a giant puddle of fillers, polyester weave tracks, fake eyelashes, lead-based paint and desperation. The desert sun did us all wrong by not melting all of them while it had the chance! While they were all lounging around the pool, the STAR of Siberia and two-time Miss Puerto Rico, Joyce Giraud, refused to get into the pool even after Brandi Glanville kept begging her to. Finally, Joyce admitted that she can’t swim, which made drunk ass Brandi say, “You’re a black person.” That would’ve been the perfect time for the sun to turn up the heat and melt all those hos, but it didn’t….
After Brandi called Joyce a black person for not being able to swim, Kyle’s face went HUH?, Lisa Vanderpump asked a bitch to clarify, Joyce got mad and Kim Richards was oblivious to all of it, because her mind was busy squeezing grapefruits in a grapefruit tree orchard. The skanky humanized Carlo Rossi jug went on to say that none of her black friends can swim and they don’t like to get their weaves wet. Brandi said this while a tragic fall of man-made hair clung to the back of her head. Bitch always has the most busted weave situation. Bitch’s weave looks like it was made from the wet piles of shed Barbie hair found in Brit Brit’s shower drain.
During the episode, Brandi got a whole lot of hate tweets thrown at her melting rubber face, so she called into WWHL to burp out a non-apology and say that it was just a joke! I don’t know how “you’re a black person” is a punchline, but in Brandi’s dilapidated coke sponge of a mind it is. Brandi shit this out to Andy Cohen:
“I know what I said was definitely inappropriate, but I say a lot of inappropriate things. I’m not racist, I’m just inappropriate 90 percent of the time! It definitely was not sensitive and I apologize to anyone I offended. But to be honest with you, my friends and I joke with each other this way and they’re from all different backgrounds. So I’m sorry and I guess TV’s not ready for the real Brandi, but should I censor myself? Is that gonna be exciting?
I think it was definitely inappropriate. I’m the least racist person of all time. I think the more you defend it, the more you look guilty, so I don’t really have to say that much more. I am very sorry with whomever I defended. Defended. Offended!”
I’m kind of surprised Brandi didn’t say, “I am not a racist. I once sucked off a black guy in a bathroom stall at Bootsy Bellows.”
And everyone CALL OFF THE SEARCH! The least racist person of all time has been found! Guinness Book of World Records, get that bitch a plaque. I’m sure that sometime in the future the GOP will tweet: Today we remember Brandi Glanville’s bold stand and her role in ending racism.
Brandi was a boozed up wreck during most of the episode and kept calling Joyce “Jacqueline,” because to her Joyce isn’t a Latina name and Joyce doesn’t look like a Joyce since most Joyces are fat pigs. If you burn your brain cells by watching both RHoBH and RHoA, then Brandi’s rant against the name Joyce probably made you think of the crazed ball of post-menopausal anger that is Mama Joyce from The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Bravo should skip the RHoBH and RHoA reunions this season and just put Brandi Glanville and Mama Joyce in a room together. Take off your wedges and take it away, Mama Joyce!
Bravo can even turn it into a pay-per-view special. I better start making room on my maxed out credit card for this.
(GIF via Tumblr)
During part 1 of The Real Housewives of Miami reunion on Monday night, Adriana de Moura, who looked like a Latin Endora, kept scratching at her rival Joanna Krupa and said that Brandi Glanville (of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills) told her at an event that Joanna is a home wrecking whore who ruined the marriage of Yolanda Foster (another Real Housewife of Beverly Hills) and Mohamed Hadid (a super creepy real estate mogul who is all over Bravo’s shows). According to Adriana, Joanna’s affair with Mohamed is the reason why Yolanda divorced him. Joanna (or Ho-Anna as Adriana calls her) denied having a bull dozer vagina and denied boning Mohamed. Then right after the reunion, Brandi just so happened to be on Watch What Happens Live (via Radar) and of course this mess was brought up.
Brandi stood by her story and told Andy Cohen that as far as she knows, Joanna did hump on Mohamed while he was married to Yolanda. During the show, Andy got a note from a producer that Joanna just tweeted (and later deleted) to Brandi: “No wonder her husband left her.” Well, when you come for Brandi, she’s going to call you out and say that your twat smells like a Florida Red Lobster dumpster in the middle of August. Brandi queefed this out:
“Well, Mohamed did tell me that her pussy smelled. Just saying. It’s true. I’m not lying. And Lisa Vanderpump was there when he said it. Sorry, bitch. I win!”
And here’s the video of Brandi declaring to the world that Joanna needs vagina deodorant:
That clip right there. It’s like the new definition of feminism.
And you know that shit-stirring shifty Siamese Cat Andy Cohen is going to milk every last drop out of this. He’s going to bring Joanna, Brandi and professional cooch-sniffer Khloe Kardashian on Watch What Happens Live. Then he’s going to make Khloe sniff on Joanna’s chocha and Brandi’s chocha. Whichever chocha makes Khloe howl at the moon, slobber and chomp at the bits will be declared the loser.
And here’s Joanna in a totally natural and not-at-all staged bikini photo-op in her waterfront backyard in Miami. Now I’m not saying that Brandi is telling the truth, but the paps did say that after these pictures were taken, that dog tore its nose off with its paws before throwing itself in the water.
Page Six reported this morning that Ramona Singer of The Real Housewives of New York City might be having turtle time all the time to deal with her husband of 27 years, Mario Singer, passing his bare dick to a young blonde socialite. And you probably didn’t read that sentence at all since you made the mistake of staring into Ramona’s crazy eyes and now you’re driving to the nearest discount liquor store to buy every bottle of Ramona Pinot Grigio.
P6′s sources say that 60-year-old Mario met the unnamed blonde socialite type at some fancy party in the Hamptons and the two spent the summer together. Mario and his 20-something trick screwed at his Hamptons house when Ramona wasn’t there and when she got pregnant in August, he paid for the abortion. They kept bumping wet parts and they’re still bumping wet parts.
A source says that she was at a party in the Hamptons and the roommate of Mario’s side piece showed her pictures of his dick.
“The girl said, ‘You’re not going to believe this, but I have to show you some pictures. Mario’s having an affair with my roommate. She showed me a photo on her phone of Mario’s ding-dong. A selfie text of his naked body, in the girl’s apartment!”
Ramona told Hollywood Life that it’s not true.
Ramona is a human bottle of Pinot filled with equal parts delusion and insanity, so even if she caught Mario giving it to a socialite (Side note: The hell kind of socialite has a roommate?) raw dog style, she’d close the blinds on her STAINS eyes and pretend she didn’t see anything. I mean, this is the 56-year-old crazy mess who thought a fetus, not menopause, was to blame for her period not coming.
But I refuse to believe any of this until I see solid (meaning it better be hard) proof! And yes that’s me saying that I really want to see Mario Singer’s 60-year-old dick. Judge me all you want, just judge me while showing me Mario’s naked selfie.
Melissa Gorga of The Real Housewives of New Jersey wrote an advice book called “Love Italian Style: The Secrets of My Hot and Happy Marriage” for women who want to know how to keep their man happy, and Tracie at Jezebel read it so you don’t have to barf out every inch of your insides while taking in these words of fucked-up fuckery.
Based on the pieces from Melissa’s book that Jezebel posted, a wife keeps her man devoted to her by always keeping her legs open for him, always keeping dinner on the table and never letting the smell of her shit waft up into his nostrils. Melissa takes instruction from the Chimpanzee King of her Castle, Joe Gorga, on how to behave like a good, little wife and she basically does whatever he says. The title of this mess should’ve been: “The Gold Diggers Guide To Becoming Your Rich Husband’s Slave So He Won’t Drop You For Another Trick.”
You should read all the excerpts at Jezebel, but here’s a few healthy and wise bits of advice from Melissa and Joe:
Melissa on how her husband won’t want to stick his peen in some side whore if her coochie is always ready to go: “The way I see it, if a wife is a puttana, her husband will never feel the urge to go outside the marriage to actual whores, or strip clubs. He won’t hit on women in bars, or drool over his friend’s girlfriends or the secretary. He’ll rush home to his wife, who makes sure he’ll have a good time (the best time) in the comfort of his own home.”
Joe on how “no” means “yes.”: “Men, I know you think your woman isn’t the type who wants to be taken. But trust me, she is. Every girl wants to get her hair pulled once in a while. If your wife says ‘no,’ turn her around, and rip her clothes off. She wants to be dominated. Women don’t realize how easy men are. Just give us what we want.”
Melissa on how any good wife must be ready to bone at all times: “[A] woman needs to keep herself in shape. She has to be seductive. She must be willing to try new things for her husband’s pleasure and her own. And, most important, she has to be available for sex.”
Melissa on how Joe taught her to be home when he gets home: “His style was to make corrections and to teach me from the beginning days of our marriage exactly how he envisioned our life together. Joe always says, ‘You got to teach someone to walk straight on the knife. If you slip, you’re going to get cut.’ Even if something didn’t bother him that badly, he’d bring it up. He wanted to make sure that I knew, for example, if I ran out to CVS and he came home from work to an empty house, he didn’t like it. He’d call me and say, ‘I don’t care if you’re out all day long. But I don’t want to come home to an empty house.’”
Joe on how his sons can be sluts but his daughter must be a virgin bride: “My sons can have a separate entrance to the house. They can come and go as they wish. They can have anyone up to their room. I don’t care. But I want to keep my Antonia my little girl.
My wish is for her to have on boyfriend for a very long time. They have a mutual breakup with no bad feelings. Then she marries the next guy. That would be ideal. I don’t want her to ever have her heart broken. The only way I can see to helping her romantic life work out that way is be really strict and overprotective about who she sees, when she goes out, and what she does.
I know it’s a double standard but I just don’t care! I don’t see it so much as restricting Antonia, but as protecting her.”
Melissa on how if Joe did housework, he’d grow a vagina: “When gender roles are confused, sexual roles are, too. If he’s at the sink and then changing diapers, then who throws down in the bed? In our marriage, Joe is always the man, doing masculine things. I’m the woman, and I do the female things, including housework.”
Melissa on how she never lets Joe know that she’s taking a caca: “Girls don’t poop. Me, never have. Never will. It just doesn’t happen. Or, that’s what Joe things! We’ve been married for nine years, and he has never once seen or smelled my business. How have I pulled this off? I don’t do it when he’s around or awake. In an emergency, I have my ways of pooping so he won’t hear, smell, or see. It’s a challenge.”
It’s kind of funny how Melissa is scared to shit in front of a big piece of shit.
If Melissa labeled her book as “fiction” and titled it “Fifty Shades of Grey: The Marriage Years,” it would be a worldwide best-seller. But none of this is really surprising, sadly. Taking marriage advice from Melissa and Joe Gorga is like taking financial advice from Teresa Giudice and Juicy Joe. And I bet the audio version of Melissa’s book is nothing but her whispering “heeeeeeelp me” over and over again.
After three long years of sharing the same styling balm, smoothing brush and foreskin cleansing soap, Cuntess LuMann de Lesseps of The Real Housewives of New York and her French boyfriend Davide Schwimmaire (real name: Jacques Azoulay) have broken up. The definition of “love” should be changed to, “DOESN’T EXIST!!!!”, now that the love between a delusional, fame whoring ex-countess and a fun house mirror Ross Geller has died.
LuAnn’s rep (yes, she has one of those and I’m guessing her rep is the person you’d most likely see in the corner booth at a HoJo’s softly weeping into their cup of lukewarm white wine) told Life & Style that 48-year-old LuAnn and 38-year-old Jacques broke up, because their lives are in different places:
“They are at different points in their life now and have mutually agreed its best. LuAnn is upset, but it’s amicable and they remain friends. Jacques has been a wonderful part of her life.”
He’s at the point in life where he doesn’t want to lick dried pirate chowder off of his girlfriend’s chichis and she’s at the point in life where she realizes that the relationship she’s in isn’t going to get her a spin-off series on Bravo so she must move on.
If history repeats itself, then Sonja Morgan will once again have LuAnn’s sloppy seconds up her butt in 3..2.. Grab the ass lube, Jacques!
And is food always on my mind or is LuAnn really wearing a Pillsbury pie crust empanada necklace?
While the has-beens and lessers were at something called the MTV VMAsomethings in Brooklyn, the real stars were at InTouch Weekly’s Icons & Idols (read: the opposite of that) party held in the back room of Dallas BBQ on 2nd Avenue in the East Village. No, it was held in some club.
The pores on your face are probably hyperventilating and I’m sure your eyelids suddenly feel really heavy, like they’re holding up 40 pounds of tar-covered tarantulas. Jersey Shore whore Deena Cortese and her natural beauty have that effect on most. A shortage of Bonne Bell foundation was issued in the Tri-state area and that’s because Deena wore every last bottle on her face. Bitch looks like an overused foundation sponge that somehow mutated into a living thing. I kind of want to stick my finger in her 7 layers of foundation and see how far it goes.
She looks like a Danny DeVito wax figure at a really terrible wax museum that wasn’t really popular with visitors so it was re-purposed into a JLo wax figure.
With all that said, she’s really not wearing enough make-up and a dark lip liner really would’ve completed the look.