Super whore (copyright: Adriana) Joanna Krupa from The Real Housewives of Miami married her on-and-off-again dude of 6 years Romain Zago in a $1 million wedding in Carlsbad, CA yesterday. I hope Joanna and Romain kept all the receipts, because they’re going to want a refund when their marriage throws itself in a shallow grave in about 6 months (I’m being generous).
Life & Style says that Joanna and Romain got married at the Park Hyatt Aviara Resort in front of Bravo’s cameras and 150 guests including her RHoM co-stars Adriana, Karent, Lisa and Alexia. Joanna wore a $30,000 gown by Chagoury Couture (keep the receipt, bitch!) and carried a bouquet of white roses and hydrangeas (again, keep the receipt, bitch!). The Daily Mail has pictures of Joanna’s dress and it looks like an episode of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding swallowed a bunch of whipped cream and then barfed it all up. It looks like Joanna’s queefing and farting out a bunch of sea foam. It’s sophistication personified, basically.
Joanna and Romain first got engaged last year and then they pressed pause on their relationship last November before getting re-engaged later. I guess Bravo needed some kind of finale for the next season of RhoM, which is the only reason why these two messes got married, but who cares about them. The only thing I want to know is if the blossom of Miami, La Bruja, was the flower girl.
Yeah, right. Like that jealous bitch Joanna Krupa would ever let a shining jewel who is a million times more gorgeous than her upstage her at her own wedding. All the flowers at Joanna’s wedding would’ve died as soon as La Bruja sashayed down the aisle, because they would’ve known that they could never compete with a beauty as natural as hers.
And here’s some pictures of Joanna and some of her RHoM co-hos at her bachelorette party a few days ago and pictures of Romain’s bulge last month. I really hope Romain’s bulge was the ring bearer at his wedding.
See how they prune. See how they prune.
You know, they say that the The Metropolitan Opera House is haunted by the booming voices that have scraped along its walls over the years (I have no damn idea if they say that). Well, those haunting voices scattered like crabs after a Hilton queef when the Olsens came floating through the front door last night.
Both of their looks confuse me. From some angles, they both look like E.T. coming home from a Botox party at an after-hours drag club. And from other angles, they look like tiny mice fetus lining up for a Joan Crawford costume contest. Whatever look it is they’re going for, it’s scaring the shit out of me.
Now I know what visions La Bruja saw on the car ride to NYC.
It’s a fact that Death Eaters and Hutts don’t get along.
I meant to cover this yesterday, but needed more time to fully shake off the paralyzing state that La Bruja’s dark magic beauty left me in. Better late than never! The Real Housewives of Miami has turned out to be the equivalent of sucking on a margarita lime left at the bottom of a cup. I get a quick buzz or two out of it, but mostly it’s just watered down acid.
I mean, in this past episode, they devoted an entire chapter to Larissa Pippen taking her 16-year-old brother to buy a Toyota. They literally test drove a Toyota and that’s it. I kept expecting Larissa’s brother to bring the theatrics by ramming the SUV into a drag queen pushing a purple stroller filled with chihuahua puppies. Or I thought maybe the sales dude would make an extremely uncomfortable and pedoriffic joke about the stick shift. But nothing. They just test drove a stupid Toyota!
The producer was like, “Oh, yes. This is going to be RIVETING SHIT! We’ll show Pippen Boringstocking test drive a Toyota with her brother, because this is something that most of America has never experienced!” This really is REAL LIFE and I don’t want to see that shit. It’s too real.
But the margarita lime buzz came when the stunning Cuban witch who puts the EEEK in chic graced the screen. Marysol Patton and her piece ventured into a den off of Tatooine to visit with the ravishing Elsa the Hutt. Marysol must’ve warned her boyfriend to not make eye contact with Elsa, because he got out of there alive. Once you stare into the double eyes of Elsa, she’ll wrap her tongue around your neck and peel off your skin with her eyes. You’ll love ever painful minute of it, because who doesn’t want their flesh wrapped around a human cauldron of beauty?
Thanks to a few glasses of Lucifer blood (tiger blood is for pussies), La Bruja was on fire! No, I really think the hot lights sparked a flame on her face and they had to snuff it out with a fire extinguisher. Don’t worry, La Bruja didn’t notice at all.
I swear, when La Bruja raises her brows, the clouds jump. And when her face goes silent, I just want to hold her close and serenade her with a stirring rendition of “Little Egypt.”
The producers of RHOM need to stuff that stale tamale with heaping servings of LA BRUJA. Just change the name to The Real Bruja of Miami already, because she IS the show.