Showing posts with label RHONJ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RHONJ. Show all posts

7.16.2012

Life at Chez V - Talk About Pop Culture


Let’s Talk Pop Culture

Has anyone watched thisPanic inducing.  I had nightmares for two days.  The level of disfunction is mindblowing.


And speaking of habits, I am finally catching up my dvr - because there is NOTHING on television - and refueling my Bravo addiction.  More Rosie. Less Teresa.  Less Ramoner.  Am I the only one who thinks Heather is dude looks like a lady-ish?  

via


Next up, SYTYCDI admit to loving this show almost as much as margaritas.


On my bedside table you will not find 50 shades of anything.  Not because I object to the subject matter.  I’m all for reading whatever floats your man in the boat. I simply prefer to read well-written books.   I just finished this and now have a gaping, throbbing hole in the middle of my chest.  As a child of the 80s and parents who owned a hair salon, I grew up in this reality.


Next, I plan to read these…

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

And if I could get to the movies I would be running to see this




because that is one of my favorite movies of all time.  The end.

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kisses, mrs. V

6.27.2012

Tales From the Projects - Sneak Peak


A Sneaky Piet and a Few Thoughts on RHONJ

If I didn’t have Pieti the Piet Monster sneaking about all the time getting into everything, I would be doing more with this…


For now, I am sneaking moments to do a little here and a little there with it.  Here’s hoping the reality is greater than the sum of my vision.

In other news, is anyone watching RHONJ?  Is there anyone more bonkers than Teresa?  Talk about Hekyll and JydeShe is an even more prolific storyteller than Stephen King who has purportedly written more than 55 novels.  And I won’t even get into her abuse of the English language.  Her de facto response when being called on the carpet for her misbehaviors is to accuse the accuser of being crazy insane.  Pot and kettle.

 
Andy, more Rosie, please, if you want me to keep watching this trash.  Because watching Caroline call her daughter a butter beast and then watching her other ‘good looking’ (eeeewwww) offspring order pizza in front of said butter beast is just plain mean and boring.


kisses, mrs. V