Is it a message from the spirits or just a dead letter?

What a struggle it was to communicate this week in Franklin Lakes, as The Real Housewives of New Jersey tried desperately to get their points across. Everything fails these ladies, from psychic vibrations to the elements of style.

Teresa strolls in the New York rain with a pink umbrella, arriving at Divine Studios where Running Press is in the test kitchen shooting images for Fabulicious, her new cookbook in the works.

“Oh, my father’s drumsticks,” she enthuses at one point. “When I make them they’re a little bit more brownerer [sic].”

The slaughter of language continues as she recalls her early days as a housewife. “I remember when I first got married I would buy cookbooks and they [sic] would be like a million ingredientses [sic]. And there would be some ingredientses [sic] we never used as Italians, like, um, cummin’ [sic]. I don’t like the way that tastes.” The test chef tells her it’s pronounced “q-min,” but we don’t care as long as he’s the one preparing the meals.

Meanwhile Joe Gorga arrives at home where Melissa has her hands full with their three young children. Husband Joe’s pretty gruff, which indicates a problem with their sexual communication. Apparently, the schedule’s not to his liking.

“You should be waking up for me,” Joe insists. “Take a shot of expresso [sic], splash some water on your face.” Joe predicts his own early stress-induced death at 38 from lack of sex. He says, “it’s like that big white zit on your face and you pop it and it shoots across the room. It’s poison!”

Joe's got quite the silver tongue this week. He says to Melissa, in front of his children, “you’re the hottest Mom going. You’re a MILF!”

Because their daughter Antonia has nightmares, she crawls into bed with them and Joe calls her a “blocker.” Melissa admits, “it works for me, because I’m tired.” Later Joe tries to mount Melissa in the closet, but she manages to hold out for another minute or two.

“I’m ready to rock and roll, tonight’s the night,” Joe insists, and orders his wife to put the kids to bed. We suggest she abstain from marital duties until he stops looking like a roadie on tour with a third-rate metal band, with his cheap bandanas and what always looks like a generous application of eyeliner.

Later, thunder breaks over Franklin Lakes, and a mysterious soundtrack plays (like Philip Glass after a lobotomy) as Jacquelyn arrives at a basement office outside of which a sadly-painted sandwich-board reads The Craft. That’s right, dear readers, we're meeting Tia Belle, spiritual advisor and possibly Tinker’s psychic sister. We’re always excited when a housewife heads for a little psychic counseling, and clearly Tia Belle is the cream of the crop.

The interior of The Craft is a hideous mix of purple and black, including black candles in a candelabra that looks like something she found on sale shortly after Halloween. Tia Belle is dressed in black, and she seems the type to always dress in black. We suspect that in the spirit world, black is the new black. A cheap carnival mask hangs sadly in the corner as if waiting to be punished for Tia Belle’s crimes against fashion.

Jacquelyn was initially a skeptic, merely following the whims of other Franklin Lakes housewives, but now she’s a believer: She, too, wears black.

Caroline Manzo continues to underwhelm on the show. Maybe she hasn't gotten the memo that empty nest syndrome isn’t a draw. Nor is Caroline’s personal styling. Has anyone told her she looks a bit like David Bowie on the cover of Aladdin Sane?

It’s moving day for her sons, Albie and Chris, who finally fly the coop. Jacquelyn gives the boys a stripper pole and a couch.

“I’m a cool aunt,” she brags in her video diary. Talk about mixed messages. We did learn a new word, however. Albie and Chris describe friend and soon-to-be roommate Greg as their “mister,” which means “man sister.” We think Chris and Albie should post “mister” on Urban Dictionary immediately.

Presumably they mean to say that he’s their gay buddy, but we’re only assuming so because Greg is holding a Chihuahua sporting a pink sweatshirt, like a mini-Justin Bieber.

Jacqueline and Chris are trying to get at the root of their problem communicating with Ashley. So they seek advice (and domestic assistance) from Jacqueline’s parents as Ashley chats on the telephone upstairs with her half-brother Anden in Texas.

Ashley’s a mystery this season. Last week she cried because her parents wouldn’t pay for an apartment in Manhattan. This week it’s touching when she cries because her splintered family is far away, and she can’t see her Texas siblings very often. We suspect Ashley will be whining again about her commute into Manhattan, but in the meantime, we want to send a clear message. Come to Houston, Ashley. It’s a great city, and maybe Bravo will spin off a show for you.

They could call it The Real Slackers of Houston.

Serious miscommunication lingers also between Teresa and her brother Joe, which the girls discuss when Posche owner Kim D brings them to the store of designer Cathy O’Connor. Her sign reads “COC + CO,” and we wonder if anyone gets confused about what kind of establishment it is. Oblivious to this, Teresa chats up O’Connor.

“I used to be in the fashion industry,” she insists, “I worked at Macy’s.”

Caroline finally shuts Teresa up long enough to preach about communication. She suggests Teresa send a letter to her estranged brother Joe. Jacquelyn offers to help. Later the two crack open a bottle of chardonnay to get the creative juices flowing. But when Jacquelyn encourages Teresa to say something nice about her sister-in-law Melissa, Teresa snaps.

“They’re both stupid, they really are,” she says. “But you know how God forgives everyone? I do the same thing. If there were more people like me, the world would be a better place.”

Hours (and who knows how many bottles of wine) later, the letter has been scratched out on blue stationery. Jacquelyn drinks her wine and nearly falls asleep with her son on a sofa as Teresa copies text from her phone to the page. The girls drive to Joe Gorga’s house, Teresa’s dream catcher ornament swaying wildly from the rear-view mirror with every curve of the road.

Jacquelyn consoles Teresa about the authenticity of her gesture, saying, “Your brother doesn’t care about your grammar.”

We hope so too, readers. If anything on this show depends on grammar, usage, or style, all is lost.