Of course, there’s more. It’s Bravocon. First, a tip. If you are ever forced to park at The Linq, be advised there are three parking garages labeled self-parking. There are no labels one through three, which one might presume with multiple garages. Tuck that nugget away in your Vegas notes.
You don’t want to be the girl in sky-high pumps wandering garages two and three when your car sits in garage one. They’re a little dark and scary and even though you can run in heels, you question how fast when you’re going around in circles not finding your car.
Besides FI tearing up The Strip leaving the Forum’s parking lot inaccessible, you should never find yourself at The Linq. Given that you don’t stay at hotels with strange odors and sticky floors. Enough. We’re over it. Right?
Back to the real reasons for Bravocon. What’s the dish? Who’s really that beautiful? Clueless? Not bright? Cutie pie? For some reason, this girl is surprised to find most of them exactly who they are on the telly. I’ve been sure that for some it has to be an act. You can’t actually be that way and make it through life day to day.
For instance, yes, Heather Dubrow, does lecture as she speaks and is quite condescending as a matter of course. Jerry O’Connell and Michael Rappaport really are Housewives crazy.
BTW–Jerry is hella handsome. Waiting for a session to start, the woman next to me shrieks. Literally lose-your-shit scream. I think she’s hurt. Turn to help and she’s flailing to get out of her chair. I look behind us and there he is right in the aisle, big as life, super friendly. She near tackles him for a photo. He obliges. Tall, dark, and All-American cute.
Kyle really can turn on the waterworks at a moment’s notice. Must have been all those childhood acting classes. Suddenly life is private when it’s her and Mo. Sorry sister, you don’t get a pass after years of horrendous behavior and outing everyone’s secrets. Not a fan. The female Chickens say it’s because I’m not a girl’s girl that I don’t care for Kyle. No, Kyle’s just insufferable, spoiled, and self-absorbed. That’s all.
Another insufferagete? Melissa Gorga. They had to separate Jersey into two groups due to the family feud. Melissa is ruling the roost, her belief in her own Queen Bee Victimhood loud and proud. She’s flipping her hair Cher style, talking over Joe, and believing her own press. Take it down a notch girl. We may not be Teresa fangirls but the table flip heard round the world put Jersey on the map. Not you whining about your mean sister-in-law. Pfft.
Erika. Oh, Erika. How is Pat the Puss not embarrassed? That’s all I got. Had to listen to her and Mikey while waiting for another session and stifled multiple yawns. I remain a lady even in the presence of those who are not.
And then there’s our Queen, Sonja with a sexy J. Waited all weekend to worship at the alter of Ms. Morgan and she did not disappoint. Joined by LuAnn, Dorinda, and Kelly Bensimon–yes, cray-cray is back. And the crazy is alive and well.
Sonja and friends need their own day. Of course, they do.
The Duchess Diaries 