SO IT'S ALL over, and the all-American jock dude guy beat the black guy and the English guy to first place.
Of course I wanted Sandhurst to win the second season of Make Me A Supermodel (the season finale aired last night here in the UK), but I can live with Branden taking the crown. As long as whiney English git Jonathan didn't get it. At least now the show is over, I won't ever have to hear his tiresome sob story ("I'm a father, I'm a provider, I'm doing it for my baby boy") again. Please. Gimme a break. How does pouting in front of a camera all day equate with being a provider? The judges forced him to show his true colours when they asked how he'd cope with being away from home all the time. His answer was something along the lines of, "They [his wife and child] will have to deal with it."
Branden, however, is a nice boy, very American, and quite vacant. There's not a thing going on in his little head, bless. And he probably couldn't so much as pull the wings off a fly.
Sadly, the end of the series means we won't get to hear Sandhurst Tacama's sweet, hypnotic Trinidad accent anymore. Or hear him lament his big dancer's legs. Sandhurst sweetheart, it's not a problem. Trust me on that.