There are very few reasons I still watch The Real Housewives Of Miami, and they all have to do with either boredom or a hiatus of better shows.
None of the women who signed up for this franchise have made an impact, other than turning us all off to Miami. While my anxiety levels are at zero for this go-round, my attention has not been caught.
This proves to everyone that as vibrant as that pocket of Florida might seem, it's nothing more than a pack of floozies in gaudy get-ups.
Lea (above) and Larsa have decided that last night was the perfect opportunity to introduce their cleavage. It was everywhere-staring you in the face at a gallery, leaning in to listen over a three-hour lunch. Actually, I take that back. Lea's made their debut at her gala last week, and we can't look her in the eye as a result.
Alexia should think about forcing her son to get a job, or to do something that requires him to interact with semi-normal humans who don't live in Miami.
Disney World would change his life. Not modeling, because that will only make the problem worse. And the young buck is planning to graduate high school?
And he wants a DJ that will spin tunes for $5,000/hour?
Grab yourself an Ipod, son, and start making a grad mix. These are hard times we've fallen on and we're not spending money on such frivolous things.
Shoot, we're on Bravo. I forgot.