Real Housewives of Miami: Art Is Dead

The terrible, no good hurricane that's been raging in Florida for the past couple weeks continues to rage on in terrible, no good fashion. A boy got a car, an old lady got drunk, and art was ruined forever.

Oh man, this show! These people! It's like watching some community theater version of another Housewives show — New York or Beverly Hills, most likely. (I mean, a community theater version of New Jersey or Atlanta would just be a hobo dying on stage for twelve hours.) They are just so stupid and not fabulous and have nothing to offer to the world whatsoever. And yet, we watch. What're we gonna do. We have little to offer the world too. We're all just dump monsters sitting here in the dump, poking at trash. In the grand scheme of history, I mean. There's nothing to be done!

Just as there's nothing to be done about the old lady who is so mad still about her charity gala that someone was late to. Yeah that elderly woman, Lea or whoever, had a charity party last week (the charity was the Let's Make Lea Seem Important On TV Foundation) and one of the other gnomes, the terrible Christy, showed up late and didn't pay to be there. It being a charity event, you were supposed to pay. So Lea had her old lady bloomers in a bunch about this and she told two of the other girls that she was going to invoice Christy for the charity ticket, on principle. I don't disagree with Lea on this! Sort of? I mean, it's probably not worth the trouble, but Christy is a demon from Demon Acres and does deserve to be told so on the regs. So I say go on with your bad self, Lea.

Christy for her part said that she was late to the charity party because she had a flat tire. I believe her. Only the flat tire is her entire life. Christy is just one big flat tire. Isn't she the living worst? She was talking to her awful friends about the charity thing and was basically making it seem like she was doing the charity a favor by showing up and not paying, as if her presence there would lend it some cachet or something? Which, ha. Who even is Christy? She's the ex-wife of an athlete no one's ever heard of (unless you're into that sort of thing) and her face is slowly turning into a pecan. And, I just gotta say it. Between the weird way she was acting and her obviously makeupped-over eye bags, I got the sliiiiight impression that maybe Christy has never met a cocaine she didn't like? Just a guess? Or at least an illegal Bahamanian diet pill? Alls I'm saying is that Christy looks about three episodes away from doing some feverish clap-jig in the style of the world's most successful (alleged) drug addict, Kelly Killoren Bensimon. Plus she's a nasty person who nobody likes. Even her friends! Christy's friends don't even seem to like her. I mean, the person closest to her (on the show at least) is Larsa and they're just in a years-long competition with each other. Sad stuff. Sadder than snorting generic Cayman Islands ephedrine while trying to hide under a sun hat? No. But still sad. Anyway, after talking about the charity event, Christy was like "Come on, let's go dance outside!" and her friends looked worriedly at each other and you could hear the distant eerie carnival music and ancient clanking gear works that are the sounds of the Bensimon machine lurching into terrible motion.

Speaking of sad, oh my god the toad woman. Good heavens. I'm talking about Marysol's mother, duh. Marysol and her lover (that is the only word for it, yes?) went to go have a chat with Marysol's mother and it was like visiting Jabba the Hutt's slimmer sister on her very own tiny party barge. She was perched/plopped lazily on a couch, once again sluicing wine into the toad slit of her mouth, and she was like "Ohhhh I yam so hunggg-over! But, I like wine, nyum nyum nyum." It was great! She's great. I want to be her when I get older, only hopefully I will have some Benadryl handy. Hopefully that. Marysol is already well on her way to becoming her mother, having herself eaten a bucket of strawberries despite her allergy, so the two just sat there, faces getting puffier and puffier, while the lover blinked and thought of the islands. Then Marysol's mother said she was a witch and let out a ribbit and it was scary.

Another lady with an accent is Alexis. This episode was more of Alexis doting over her teenage son, the one she wants to be a model. She woke up him at 10am and had breakfast ready for him and he padded out to the terrace and she pretended to be upset with him about spending money on his credit card. Turns out he bought his little girlfriend some ring on some island and Alexis was proud of him and she was like "Does she know how good of a boyfriend you are?" and the kid smiled awkwardly and said "I don't know. You're so stupid," but not stupid in a mean way, stupid in a "parents make too big a deal of everything way." I'd say of all the Housewives, I mind Alexis the least, for scenes like these, that at least feel somewhat real. Is her waiting hand and foot on her son and worshiping him like some sort of sun god (son god) kinda creepy? Oh yes! Heartily yes! But, if a Housewife's biggest crime is that she's too attentive and kind to her children, that's a pretty good Housewife, right? Later there was a scene where Alexis and her son worked out at the gym and I don't know, whatever. I'm just mentioning it. Brian Moylan knows what I'm talking about. Just mentioning it for no reason.

Moving on! Adriana. Oh how do you solve a problem like Adriana? I don't know that you do! She is a crazy Brazilian coffee bean and maybe that's OK. She is late to everything all the time! She was having outdoor wind lunch (is that all these women do? sit outdoors in the afternoon wind and wait for lunch to arrive?) with some of the girls and was an hour and a half late. But that was OK, because it gave the girls time to recap the charity thing or some other evening, when Adriana stayed out late (2am!!) drinking and dancing with strange men. The old lady was so shocked! Back in her day (the 1860s) a woman was never even seen past 3pm, let alone cavorting in a dance-like manner with males. Lea tried to act like she wasn't "judging" but she totally was in that laughy old lady way of not being judgy. "Ohh! Ha ha! Well, isn't that something! Of course, to each their own! Of course. But maybe she had too much to drink, ha ha!," that kind of laughing after you say something bitchy to make it seem like "Oh, I'm just kidding of course!" when no, you are not kidding at all, old lady. You are not kidding one old lady bit.

Ah well. The subject was dropped by the time Adriana got here and they waited some more for lunch, the wind blowing their hair in various directions. And then the rest of the episode was Adriana freaking out over some art show she was having at some gallery she owns. It was a pretty cool gallery with some pretty great art, but the latest show was not coming together well. See, Adriana had commissioned an artist to do a very exclusive show and yet he was not producing. So she stormed in there last night, catching the Artist fiddling around on some piano, and she started complaining. "Where are the arts? I specifically asked for thirty-seven arts and all I see here is about twelve arts. You need to be making more arts! How will I sell these arts if they are not there??" She has a point. If you ask for a certain amount of arts, you should be given them. Oh and what art it was! This motherfucking genius managed to paint circles on photos of people. Yeah, I'll wait a minute while your maid cleans up your mind that just got blown out the back of your head bone. Pictures. Of people. With circles painted on them. I mean... ART. Fuck off, Serge, Marc, and Yvan. This here is Art. I've settled it. Go back to Paris. Another great feature of the art? The photos were of people that Adriana had invited to the opening. So that way they would feel special ("Look, I'm on an art!") and hopefully buy the painting. Fucking brilliant. You're gonna have to pay that maid overtime.

Anyway, the artist was totally screwing everything up, being lazy and hard to work with and it was just not good. So Adriana devised a plan to get back at him, basically. The night of the opening everyone arrived in their trashy finest. Larsa, who had just finished buying her much younger brother a car (just like that, "You want this one? OK, here."), arrived with Christy, and oh my goodness it was like hearing Medici patrons talk during the Renaissance. I mean, these bitches knew good art. And this was some good art. Though, of course, both were upset that their faces weren't featured in any of the paintings. (Actually Christy's was. There was actually a photo of a burnt toenail with circles painted over it hanging in a corner, if you looked closely. Way to go Christy!) Then Lea showed up looking like Nanny from Muppet Babies if Nanny went to a fancy art party. (I mean, granted, all you ever saw of Nanny was a pair of legs, but these are totally the wacky clothes she'd wear if she went out on the town. So Lea was either that, or she was Ms. Frizzle's grandmother. Choose your poison.) She had these wild be-rhinestoned fashion glasses that were actually costume props from the "Time Warp" scene in South Miami Senior High's production of Rocky Horror that she showed proudly to Larsa, who was all "Ohhh, cuuuuuute." Later on Larsa was talking about them in a bitchy way to Christy, and then Christy was talking about how she should have been on the wall because she's way more famous than anyone at the party. Wait what? I've just been writing whole paragraphs about you Christy and I have no idea who you are? A cashew nut that's addicted to speed? Is that you? I don't even know.

ANYWAY, Adriana's revenge plot! So yeah, everyone was there for the party and the big fat hoagie of an artist was standing in a corner, slovenly and pleased with himself, and then Adriana was like "I have an announcement! Here is a preview of what's coming to the gallery next!" And then this French guy walked out and did this drip art thing and you were like 1) Oh, so this is Adriana's Gimmick Gallery, a gallery for gimmicks. Maybe next time she can have one of those sidewalk paintings that look 3D. Those are cool! and 2) Uh oh, it's sort of rude to feature another artist at an artist's big gallery opening? Oops! Of course Adriana knew this, wanted to give the guy an old Brazilian fuck you, but she feigned ignorance mostly. I mean, who really cares. What, were the photo circles going to be upset? If anything I'd think the artist would be worried that Andy Warhol's zombie would burst through the wall and demand royalties. But no. Instead he was upset about the art stuff. But not as upset as some other old queen! Oh man, there was this sad old queen who doesn't know she's old yet who was like "Never in my whole life in art have I seen such disrespect." Never! Never in his whole life of going to gimmick art shows in Miami. "I mean, I was there when Jean-Georges MagicEye™ debuted his collection and someone said they couldn't see the schooner sailboat! But this, this is beyond!" It was hilarious and sad and I kind of wanted someone to go throw him in the water. But they didn't! No, they let him get all uppity and self-righteous in Adriana's face and Adriana was just like "Ees my gallery. I do what I want." And then the old queen stalked off and, it would seem, deliberately stepped on the beautiful single-drip painting that that guy had worked a whole 15 minutes on. What a disgraceful event!

What an evening! I'm beginning to feel like someone stepped on the muddled drip painting of my soul. This show hurts. It hurts almost as much as Marysol's mother's face must hurt allll the time. Or when children crack open Christy's face with wooden nutcrackers at Christmastime. It's just painful. So painful. I think we need more scenes of good, healthy things. You know. Stuff to make us feel better. Healthy things like... oh, I don't know, working out. Yeah. I think we need a few more workout scenes, please. You know what I'm talking about. Hm? What's that? I'm going to jail? Fair enough.

See ya!