Forget Arizona's immigration mess. We really need to increase security on our TV borders. Because this Eurotrash-hole Markus Plinko or Klinko or whatever needs to go the hell home.
High-pitched, high-maintenance and bitchier than a Real Housewives reunion, the screechy mess of bad bleached hair and mangled phrases ("eeet vas love on virst siyeet") fancies himself "the James Bond of fashion photography," while coming off as a French-Hungarian-Swiss amalgam of ick with nothing more than a license to shoot celebrities. Towering over his dim, diminutive ex-turned-sidekick Indrani and bringing a whole bucket of tension and trite ideas (crouching? Really?) to their shoot with rapper Eve, this collage of annoyance made the premiere a Double disappointment: He was both a total camera hog and the least colorful subject to be focused on.
Did you give Double Exposure a shot? And...?
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