Party Panties and Jesus Juice #RHOD

Let’s get white girl wasted and discuss these unreal housewives of Dallas.

Spoiler alert – not a lot really happened. If you aren’t watching and want to get caught up click here for Episode 1 and here for Episode 2.

Three of the girls went to a male strip club where apparently white girl wasted means getting so hammered that  one of them saved a horse and rode a cowboy. It looked like they had a good time but unfortunately, one of the husbands wasn’t thrilled about his wife’s western style. Maybe he should get a cowboy hat. And some abs.

Tiffany’s husband, on the other hand, practiced the guitar in the garage, like a true teenager. He voiced his concern about not booking anything big yet in Dallas and then asked his mom where babies come from. I have a friend whose ten year old son has a standing gig in Deep Ellum. Maybe he should contact this kid’s manager and see if they can work something out.

Two housewives filmed a fashion vlog where one husband showed his vogue side. Side note:  I find metro guys incredibly sexy. A man who can tell his girl what shoes look hot with what dress…something about that is hot to me. A guy who appreciates a well-dressed woman is a keeper. It’s even better when he is dressed as well if not better than she is. Men, (because tons of men love to read about the housewives of Dallas) it’s okay to care about clothes and shoes and style.

Brandi (now infamous for her shithat) showed a more vulnerable side, one that for me and probably too many people is far too familiar. Relationships are hard. Marriage is hard, and it’s even worse when one person does not feel satisfied. To me, Brandi is going through what so many women experience and which I will call Invisibility Syndrome ™ .  There was a time when I’m sure Brandi’s husband showered her with love and attention. Then came life, then came marriage, then came two babies in a baby carriage, then came careers and sick parents and everything else, and if there isn’t an effort put toward each other, then what was once a blazing  fire becomes a flickering flame until nothing is left but a plume of smoke. And at that point, is it even worth it to find a match to reignite it?  My friend and I were talking today, and she said, “Relationships are like flowers. If you don’t water them, they’ll die.” And this is why divorce happens.

Let’s talk about LeeAnne Locken, former Carnie, current Socialite(ish). My favorite part of the entire episode was when she was discussing how classless it was for Brandi to wear her shit hat to the Mad Hatter charity event. She gave some long diatribe about how awful Brandi is and how she felt so sorry for her daughters, and then she said in what is nail- on-a-chalkboard  twang, “I just don’t know how they’re gonna grow up. It won’t be with class,” as she sipped red wine on the rocks. Yep, all the classy girls put ice in their wine when they are gettin’ white (pronounces waaat) wasted.

Later in the show (because it seems the entire season will center around the Shituation of last week), LeeAnn discussed the incident over lunch with Cary and Stephanie. While speaking about class and having several of her very classy words bleeped out, she said, “Bow at me. See what happens. I don’t give a f*ck.” What the heck does that even mean? Bow at me? I googled it. Nothing. All I could find was bow to me, like in reverence. This, my friends, is one of the major problems with the casting of this show. Where I do not think Bravo was necessarily going for classy, it seems they went for trashy.

After speaking with several other Dallas women, I learned I am not alone in my distaste for how my wonderful city is being portrayed. I promise we don’t all act like these women. We don’t all talk like that, and as a whole, we are all a little disturbed by the overall behavior that we are seeing.

Jesus Juice

Jesus Juice

So tell me, are you wearing your party panties? When is the last time you got “white girl wasted?”

The Shituation on #RHOD

I’m calling this episode of Real Housewives of Dallas The Shituation. If you watched the show, you’ll understand why.

The episode centered around a  charity event benefiting the Dallas Arboretum called the Mad Hatter. It’s not as much of an Alice in Wonderland Tribute as it should be. In fact, I’m pretty sure these women didn’t even know that’s where the term originated, but I could be wrong. The plan was they were to wear a fabulous hat to a party at a flower garden and pay anywhere from $375 for a ticket (according to LeeAnne Locken) to thousands of dollars for a table, which if you’re smart like I am but she isn’t, you’ll do the math and figure out how much a table for six costs. $2,250 (or thousands. Whatever.) My point is that these social events are not the premiere events in Dallas. We have better. I promise, but at least it beats the Stella and Dot show they tried to pass off as a charity event last week. *rolls eyes*

Brandi, the former Dallas Cowboy cheerleader who is a stay at home mom in what is clearly a suburb of Dallas (if I had to guess, I’d say Plano and not just because my good friend is Maggie P.I.) chose to make her own hat. Your eyes did not deceive you. I promise this woman got a friggin hot glue gun and went to Hobby friggin Lobby and purchased the materials to use her own hands and make a hat.

Here’s my problem with this and so much that is happening on this show so far. I get that it’s called “The Real Housewives of Dallas,” but I don’t want to watch someone make a hat with a hot glue gun or I would watch a DIY show or get on Pinterest for Christ’s sake. *shudders* And furthermore, I’m used to the Real Housewives of Orange County and The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills who actually go to expensive galas and pay copious amounts of money to charities and who would never even know how to use a hot glue gun or that said glue gun needs to be plugged into an electrical outlet. I don’t even know how to use one and I’m actually a housewife, kind of. I don’t want to see them being mommies or dealing with a toddler who has pissed his pants. I can deal with that shit (pun fully intended) at my home. I want unreal. I want spectacular. I want lifestyles of the rich and famous, not playdate at my neighbor’s house.

Anyway, Brandi chose to make her own hat for said charity gala and decided it would be a great idea to make a poop hat. I’m convinced the girl is obsessed with poop. Maybe she needs some probiotics. Or maybe it was Bravo’s idea since these girls are about as interesting as my philosophy professor in college who to this day, if I have trouble sleeping, I summon his voice in my head. But apparently if you want to get a rise out of the wives, you wear a poop hat to a pseudo charity event. She arrived with Stephanie (the housewife who lives on the third hole of the Four Season’s golf course) who wore a hat she purchased from the couture section of Wal-Mart, I’m pretty sure. My dead grandma wouldn’t be caught dead in it, and she loved tacky hats. (See what I did there?)

LeeAnne Locken, who had her hat professionally designed for at least the second year was not happy with the poop hat or the girl beneath it. She rolled her eyes and smacked her lips a couple hundred times and then tattled on Brandi to someone who I’ve seen on Fox 4 Good Day. I can’t remember his name, but apparently he’s important in Dallas.

Nothing was resolved. Nothing happened. They talked about poop. According to Andy Cohen of Watch What Happens Live, “It was a crap ton,” and the word “poop” was used in one hour (this is with commercials) twenty-six times.

“That’s the way we do it in Dallas.” NO IT’S NOT!

I have four older brothers. I can handle poop humor. I’ve been a victim of poop pranks and dutch ovens more times than I can count, but I grew out of that. Like most grown women. I’d much rather talk about sex. What is wrong with these girls?

Other happenings not centered around the Mad Hatter event: Cary’s kid she never knew she didn’t want spoke in a language nobody could understand but apparently knows Swiss-German, English, Spanish, and Swahili (I’m pretty sure this is what she spoke). Tiffany’s Australian Keith Urban husband doesn’t want to buy a house in Texas, especially from a real estate agent who answers the door in an over-sized cowboy hat, and Stephanie’s husband has fur coats and also probably labia instead of a penis, or maybe he’s a pimp.

In other news, this happened on Twitter today, so even if she is a bit of a shit show, she might be my favorite.

It was bound to happen.

It was bound to happen.

I’m sorry to bore you with another recap. If nothing happens next week, I promise not to write another. What I am thinking about writing is a post called “Actual Text Messages I Sent to My BFF” which I promise are much more interesting than this show. What do you think? Is anyone else watching this show? Do you want to see my text thread history instead? Here’s one: “Yep, they’re her husband’s. Because he has a vagina. A very old one.”

Real in Dallas #RHOD

**Disclaimer: This is not my usual post. I’ve been watching Real Housewives on Bravo since the beginning. I watched the original Real Housewives of Orange County as it aired, and I’ve been addicted ever since. One time, I even stood with Vicki Dunvalson, ( and Don), and Jeanna Keough on the red carpet of the Emmy awards as they used disposable cameras while we all celebrity watched. I can’t help it. I am addicted, so when I found out the producers of Bravo were finally going to film a Real Housewives of Dallas, I vowed to watch and perhaps write about it, so here it goes.**

Real, according to Merriam Webster means “actually existing or happening. Not imaginary, not fake, false, or artificial.” So let’s see how real we can get in Dallas.

That’s right, friends, forgive me, but when it gets “real” on my turf, a girl’s gotta talk about it and see if these housewives can represent.

“That’s how we do it in Dallas.”


So let’s meet the wives.

Brandi  is a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader (they make like $13 a game) but stays far from the sidelines. She’s a full time mom who can’t do math, so let’s hope she doesn’t home-school. Her last name is Redman, and she has red hair. I’m going to stop there.

Tiffany states she is a hometown girl, a former model and has a British musician for a husband (who hates Texas, I’m pretty sure.) She’s done lots of coke and wears bandanas like Brett Michaels, which I must have missed the memo on because I didn’t realize it was cool again or ever.

Cary claims to be a trophy lifetime achievement award (she’s playing on trophy wife here but clearly she’s not too clever), which clearly shows her very low opinion of herself. She assists her husband in giving boobs to Dallas socialites and former cancer patients. So far, she’s my favorite.

Stephanie is the Stepford Wife next door who lives on the third hole of the Four Season’s Golf Course (which isn’t in Dallas), but if we looked closely at the thoughts in her head, we would see the cymbals playing monkey from Homer’s mind in the Simpsons. She can also fart on cue, so at least she has that going for her.

Leanne proudly announces she is a  carnie kid  or Stephen Tyler’s long lost daughter who isn’t a millionaire or a billionaire or married to a police officer.


Before we go any further, I feel like there are some things you should probably know about Dallas if you’re from out yonder before you get too involved in the Real:

1.The Dallas Cowboys are actually in Arlington and practice in Valley Ranch but are building a huge practice field in Frisco, which is north of Plano (which apparently is no Bueno according to Leanne.) Dallas is a general term, and I would be willing to bet at least one or four of these wives live outside of Dallas proper.

2. Dallas girls think we get better when we drink. (Some of us do.) Most of us call wine wine, not Jesus juice.

3. Go has two syllables. “Gowah” or “Gu-oh”

4. “Bless your heart” really means, “I’m sorry you’re an effing moron.” I want to say “Bless your heart” to Brandi, pretty much every time she speaks.

5. Dallas women have a look that we give each other. We know when we give it, and we know when we get it. It says “I hate you more than kale flavored brownies.” (I saw it more than a lot tonight. Mostly between Leanne and Brandi.)

6. We don’t all wear cowboy boots and listen to country music, but when we do, we look fabulous.

7. We do all say ya’ll, and it’s sexy when we do.

So now that we’ve gotten you hip to what is real in Dallas, let’s review whatever it was we just watched:

I have to say, this episode kind of fell flat for me. I expected something somewhat interesting. I mean, everything is bigger in Texas, right? But these girls were bland, and that is NOT the Dallas that I know and love. Dallas is full of vibrant women with big diamonds and even bigger personalities. Maybe it was because they were new and clearly not used to the cameras, but these ladies didn’t offer much, and not just because there isn’t one of them that has a brain. I mean…Where’s the Vicki Gunvalson, or the Lisa Vanderpump?

Clearly, Leanne will take the reigns as the feisty trouble making mouth of the group only to be challenged by the little ginger pistol,  but even their drama seems forced. And boring.

They’re not even funny when they’re drunk, and everybody is funny when they’re drunk, right? P.S.  Nobody thinks farting on demand is funny here. (Truth #8).

And the husbands…snore.

Honestly, where have all the cowboys gone? We have beautiful men in Dallas. Tall, dark and handsome men who are nice and chivalrous and say “yes, ma’am.” Where are all of the hot husbands? Hello, David Beador is handsome, but not Texas handsome, and these dudes aren’t even funny.  Where, for the love of Dealey Plaza, is our Terry Dubrow?

AND…what about the handbags? I didn’t see a Birkin. I didn’t see Chanel. You know what I saw? I saw the same Louis Vuitton shoulder bag that every single stay-at-home mom in all of Frisco carries. Come on, girls. Do better.

I only hope the housewives strive for perfection in more than their Botox this season. I will watch every week because I must. They had me at Dallas, after all. It will get better, even if the previews didn’t prove that. It has to. It certainly can’t get any worse.

Until then, ya’ll come back now, and tell me if you watched, what did you think about the first episode? Who’s you’r favorite? Who do you hate? What do your cowboy boots look like?