On Sunday night’s Real Housewives of New Jersey, Rich Wakile, husband of Kathy Wakile, explained in a voiceover that his favorite dessert is Kathy. Why? Because “it tastes like fish, and always gets the job done.” Ugh. Barf. It almost broke Twitter, especially when Rich himself tweeted that he was talking about something else and Bravo edited it. Riiight. Side eye, Rich, side eye.
It got me thinking about how many of the husbands on these shows are either comical, revolting, or both. (Like always, I’m ignoring those tricks in Miami.They offer nothing except Mama Elsa. Snooze.) For the sake of brevity, I’ll only discuss the shows currently airing.
Rich Wakile :: The Embarrassment
The comment about tasting like fish was only the most recent of Rich’s antics. From using the phrase “cake blocker” in one of his wife’s business meetings, to asking for a tampon (“My wife just cut my balls awf!”) in another, to the blurred-out boner on the Napa trip, Rich is one gross-out after another. And I won’t even comment on the popped collars.
Teresa’s wee musclebound brother was first introduced to us in the infamous Christening episode. He came off like a scary, drunk roid-rager. Calling his sister “garbage”, throwing punches, and howling in Italian to their father “I’m ya SON!”, he seemed pretty awful. Telling the viewers he needs sex every day to “release the poison” did nothing to increase his likability. But I have to admit that like a rare Jersey fungus, Joey G. has grown on me. I find his unflagging support for Melissa’s “singing career” and his seemingly genuine desire to make things right with his sister and her family to be endearing. Charming, even. I think under the excessive waxing and tanning, there beats a good heart.
If Joe Gorga is the fungus that grew on me, Joe Giudice is the oafish, salami-nippled mutant strain that just won’t die. I can’t say enough about how much I dislike this guy. Here’s a partial list: gay slurs (including listing Joe Gorga in his phone as “f*ggot”), DUI busts, forging of documents, shady business dealings, persistent cheating rumors, open disdain for his wife’s friends and family, and infamously calling Teresa not only his “bitch wife”, but also a “c*nt.” I don’t think I need to go on about this nasty specimen. I’ll let Milania say it for me:
I wish they would give Chris some Honey Boo Boo style subtitles when he speaks. And maybe a Red Bull or something. He has one of those expressionless faces and a low, under-modulated (that can be a word, right?) voice that just makes him sound like a big ole drag. I know he’s had some bankruptcy issues and he seems to have put his life savings into that atrociously horrible idea BLK water, but he seems like a decent guy. He managed to deal with Jacqueline’s devil child AsHliey – or however she spells it – without suffocating her with her own floppy hat and he at least made the (probably producer-arranged) effort to sit the husbands down before the Napa trip and try to make nice nice. So there’s that.
Mario Singer :: The Disproportionately Handsome One
This isn’t even the best picture of Mario but he still looks pretty good, and that’s saying a lot considering he’s sharing the frame with my gay boyfriend Andy Cohen. I get that there’s no correlation between good looks and being a good person, okay? It’s just that I usually don’t even know how I feel about Mario because I’m too mesmerized by his handsome face. And by my ceaseless pondering of why he’s with Ramona! I mean, I guess he’s a basically an asshole. That’s probably what I would think about him if I stopped looking into his dreamy eyes. He’s the ultimate hate-f*ck, isn’t he? You know, for someone. Not me, of course.
Reid Drescher :: The Enabler
Reid. Hmm. I don’t have a good handle on Reid yet. Though I did just learn that he’s Fran Drescher’s cousin! From what we’ve seen, Reid’s been ridiculously good-natured and laid-back, despite Aviva’s everyday freak-outs and unrelenting neediness. I’m of two minds about the whole flying with Aviva to St. Barth’s moment. On the one hand, it seems sweetly supportive. But on the other, I feel like he should tell Aviva she needs to address the phobias that keep a well-educated woman over 40 from being able to join a girls’ trip without her husband. Ooh, there was that random crack he made during the now-infamous double date about the women being overweight. Huh?
Heather is pregnant in the pic above, so don’t freak out and call her a fatty. I know you wouldn’t do that anyway. But before I tell you just how much I don’t know about Jon Schindler, I must disclose that Heather is MY GIRL! I adore Heather and feel like we would definitely be friends if we ran in the same circles. I mean, we tweet and Facebook with each other all the time! Well, technically she’s responded to a couple of my tweets and a message on FB where I told her she was cool and her hair is awesome. Anyhoo. We know next to nothing about her husband or their home life, which makes me think Jon’s really smart. That is all.
Albert, go take a nap. At the Brownstone.
Mario called him Pepe le Pew. The always-hilarious Michael K. at Dlisted called him the French David Schwimmer. To me, he’s simply Le Jacques in Luann’s Box. And ever since Ramona made the absurd speculation that he isn’t really French, my friend Sarah and I have our fingers crossed that she turns out to be right: that the over-the-top accent and extensive knowledge of wines is somehow revealed to be fake, and “Jack” is really a housepainter from Ohio!
Le sigh. We can dream, can’t we?
What did I miss? Who is your favorite? Least favorite?